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#also damn this universe really does extend

ghostlythunderbird · 1 year

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Omegaverse ~ Task Force 141+ Alejandro, Rodolfo, König

Warnings: Mostly SFW with a dash of NSFW (MINORS BEGONE)

Author Notes: These are gonna be short and I apologize for it but YALL THE WRITING JUICE IS DRYING UP, so once again I'm sorry. These are also my own interpretations of these characters but feel free to add on top of them. I also wanna thank @l-lend and @kelpiesummer for helping me with these, your honor I love them both.

Before we begin I would like to go over some baseline stuff to this:

In Military pack dynamics there is a Lead Alpha and a Lead Beta, and if the Alpha isn't present it is the Beta’s duty to oversee the safety of the pack.

Apex Alphas do exist here but they only make up 10% of the population, and are often ridiculed due to them being able to control a vast majority of Alphas. They are also much stronger and much bigger than regular Alphas with much stronger instincts. In modern society it's often damning should one be born an Apex because they often have to wear muzzles in public because of their unpredictability.

An Apex’s muzzle is only taken off when they are alone, mated, or receive immunity by extended military service to prove they are not a danger to anyone.

To add on about an Apex, their Ruts become stronger the longer they don't relieve built up tension over time. It has even been recorded that Apexes with no outlet have often become feral and cannot be helped out of a feral state. All Apexes MUST have a physical outlet to reduce built up tension.

All dynamics are able to become Feral, and in this universe there is not enough data to help an individual out of said feral state and will have to be sent to a designated center for proper care.

Apexes, Alphas, and Omegas are able to control themselves decently should a Rut or Heat arrive. Should one help out with these times, consent must be given beforehand and with a trusted individual. Not everyone here is driven to wackiness because of hormones

In the Military, there are often teams that are used for Ruts and Heats of all calibers, they are made up of trained Betas and are the only ones allowed to handle single Apex, Alpha, and Omega dynamics who are in a Heat or Rut.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon I feel like would be an Alpha, simply because of his size and his ability to lead soldiers like a well oiled machine. He didn't start feeding into his alpha nature until he joined the Royal Army after the attacks on 9/11, mostly because his father would punish him and his family should anyone try to stand up to him. Once Simon completed his training he shows his father what a true Alpha is and acts like, and ends up kicking him out of the house before assuming the role as the protector of his family.

After losing his family and “Simon Riley” being now pronounced dead he started to hide his true nature and his scent. While his scent is practically nonexistent it didn't stop him from the commanding and somewhat protective nature of his inner Alpha. In the Ghost’s mind, no scent and repressing that inner Alpha, is the best way to begin a nonexistent life; to become nothing more but a living shadow.

In a Rut:

To describe Simon in a rut would be a very self protective Alpha, not wanting anyone with a 5 mile radius near him to ensure no one discovers his identity. And in order to safeguard that fact he ends up going to a secluded safehouse far from base to ensure not a single person can find him in such a vulnerable state. During this time he does believe it's better for him to be alone as the worry of losing himself after being pent up for so long could only cause him more trouble on top of someone finding out Simon Riley isn't as dead as they claim.

But to say he's a virgin would be a complete lie, he’s been with omegas before and many were in heat so he understands a little about omegas but nothing really outside a heat. With that being said he often craves an omega during his ruts, but after becoming the Ghost he doesn't actively seek them anymore. But if he did have an omega (maybe even you) helping him out he would definitely be very dominant, constantly on lookout after having sated both his needs and whoever is helping him. If you're close with him, he begins to show a more doting characteristic that he claims isn't there such as getting you what snack you're craving or bringing in more blankets for your heat nest.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Now this Scott probably doesn't strike you as an Alpha, but I assure you he is 100% Alpha blood though and through. Johnny is definitely a more playful alpha compared to the rest of his team but that doesn't stop him from trying to get them to loosen up and have fun. He's even been told many didn't think he was an Alpha at their first introduction, with his fun and very caring personality he's been more mistaken as an Omega rather than an Alpha.

But that never once hurt his feelings, and has even offered to show he’s the real deal if you catch my drift. It also means he loves to show off to whoever might be watching whether they are Male, Female, Omega, Alpha, or even a Beta. His only hard NO would be an Apex of any gender, he may not have met any but there is definitely a stereotype amongst Apexes.

In a Rut:

Before anyone starts to make assumptions that he's pretty dominant in bed and during a rut that's only a half truth. While yes his body is telling him to dominate during that time he isn't fully into it, he is actually more of a switch and can be pretty needy during this time. He wants to cuddle about 90% of the time because the skin on skin helps bring his brain back to a safe place where hormones don't dictate his every move.

Johnny definitely isn't a virgin and has actually had many partners of all second genders besides apexes in his bed at least once. He can definitely say he knows his way around anybody that decides to help him in a rut but once he's sated it's straight pampering for his partner. Once you get to know him better he actually wants to play fight with you more after you're both satiated for a bit, Johnny claims it's to help build a bond between the two for you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Before anyone yells at me for making Gaz a Beta hear me out. In a pack like Task Force 141 there needs to be a Lead Alpha and a Lead Beta that takes up for the Lead Alpha should they not be present in a situation. But our sweet Kyle definitely is the voice of reason between the original four, should the Alpha’s hormones and instincts cloud one's judgment Kyle would help set the record straight and see both sides to the coin. He’s definitely the more laid back one of the group but he can get a little wild should he need to, I mean the guy was hanging upside down under a helicopter while going down an active highway.

While he might be the more laid back one, that doesn't exactly mean he isn't a little trickster. He likes to rile Soap up before he gets told to stop which often leads to someone getting sent to the medbay, while he does mess with Ghost and Price he doesn't take it too far because not only are they Alphas they also happen to be higher in the chain of command. Kyle has stated before that it's just easier to pick on Johnny because they are both the same rank, and that Soap is the one who actually wants to up the intensity or stakes to whatever they are doing.

I'm just gonna add this in on this part to say since Betas don’t have Heats or Ruts I won't have a Rut part for Gaz. But that doesn't mean that this man doesn't get any. To anyone who has ever met him, they can say he’s super helpful during those times and has even offered to help should they need it. But that is only to a select few, he mostly just makes sure you don't die from starvation or dehydration and will even run messages and updates back and forth on whatever you want to know or need during that time.

John Price

Our captain in tight fitting camo is not just an Alpha he's The Alpha of Task Force 141, his presence is calm yet demanding attention from anyone who crosses his path. That being said, he isn't one to outright snap at anyone who gets on his nerves, but rather lets them make a fool of themselves. He will only ever step in if his team or his own safety starts being questioned around an individual or in a certain area. He is always aware of everyone under his charge and does the best he can to ensure they all make it back home safe, although they aren't scratch less sometimes but alive nonetheless.

While John is a leader and an officer he makes sure he has an end time to the mountains of paperwork on his desk. Should he have someone at home waiting for him, he makes sure to keep them updated on his whereabouts but once he's in the security of his own four walls his top priority is only them. John has been known to go off the radar sometimes while at home, but it's mostly because when he's home he doesn't want work knocking at his door when he's got other priorities. Overall this man is sweet as he can be, in his own rough way, and all he ever really wants to do is just love and pamper his mate like it might be the last time.

In a Rut:

Right off the bat he tells you he might be a bit much during this time of the year, but it's much more different than what you'd expect from an Alpha of his standing. While most of the time he's peachy with being the dominant one in bed, if the Rut is strong and he just came home all he wants is for you to take control. He will mostly complain that it's because he's “Getting old as crap” but you set that aside and simply say it's ok to let someone else take control. John just wants to be pampered in his Ruts mostly because every other time he has to be taking care of someone else.

Now if he goes into Rut while he's on extended leave and has the energy of a young buck, better buckle up then honey cause you're just gonna have to ride it out. The easiest way to say what he is in bed would be a switch but personally it isn't that simple. Personally I do believe that John can be dominant but with his line of work and his responsibilities it takes it out of him even with a rut, he wants to be dominant but simply put the man is tired most of the time. So in order to make up for it he is very caring of his partner, he wants to provide and protect his partner. John is by far one of the sweetest Alphas out there but don't tell anyone that, he has a reputation to uphold back on base.

Alejandro Vargas

This FINE Latino man is without a doubt an Alpha, with his ability to be both cunning and devious in his line of work he can make sure the job is done. While he might be unforgiving to his enemies, anyone that is a previous lover or his mate can say that he is a hopeless romantic. He showers and pampers his lovers with anything they could ever desire, Alex wants to show that he is a perfect caregiver and provider to their needs.

While he might not be a stereotypical Alpha, he can still effectively protect his mate and his pack should some catch the wrong side of him. He’s a protector and has even said that he “Will fight to his very last breath as long as it means you are all protected in the end.'' With that it's easy to say Alejandro is a very selfless person to those he trusts and will ensure all are properly protected and provided for should they come under his protection and care as the Lead Alpha.

In a Rut:

Imma say it now, Alejandro actually feeds into that inner Alpha during this time. He wants to release all that built up tension into the form of rough sex should anyone help him out. He only ever has someone with him if he knows it's bad and has no mate or anyone special, but if he does have a mate they are gonna be covered in bruises and love bites and probably bred after it. Also without a doubt he's bound to become more aggressive than normal, but again he is simply acting on instincts. However that aggression will never be used against you that could potentially hurt you.

Maybe after a few rounds Alejandro does feel like he's able enough to check on his partner, he goes to town should they need aftercare, snacks, or a shower. He kisses on deep bruises he's left along your skin, helps wash your hair and body, even makes sure you're properly fed even if he's the one who is in Rut.

Rodolfo Parra

Once again please no one yell at me for this decision, but I do feel like Rudy would also be a Beta as he works closely with Colonel Vargas as his second in command. After growing up with Alejandro, they both decided to stay together after their basic training and fight for justice in Las Almas. Wherever you see Alejandro, Rodolfo is never far behind updating the Lead Alpha should news come up over the radios from their team.

Rudy is also more alongside the more nurturing nature, he wants his team safe and will do anything to protect them. His team is his Pack and without them Rudy has nothing left, that being said he tries to improve whatever he can as the Lead Beta for Los Vaqueros. I can also say without a doubt Rudy is also the most loving person to whoever is his mate, but this isn't one sided as he also wants all the love and adoration from his mate just as much. He is a lover by nature but he also wants to be bathed and be told that he is doing a good job and a lover and a mate.

And while again Rudy may be a Beta and doesn't have a Rut it doesn't mean he is inexperienced, He chooses to wait and is actually very selective of potential partners that he shares such intimate moments with. But if you ask Alejandro he can tell you Rudy has had some drunken one night stands that makes the Beta beat red at just their mentioning.

König

Our lorge Austrian man here is one of the lesser known dynamics that makes up only 10% of the world's population; An Apex. Truly it's no surprise that this man right here would be anything less, but in König’s personal opinion it's nothing but a curse. Ever since he presented he was mocked and shamed for his second gender, it was much worse when the government sent his family a muzzle for him to wear in public. It was nothing short of humiliating, it even was something else for him to be bullied for. The bullying was also the reason why König has deep scars around his face from the muzzle digging in, some of them because his bullies often pulled on the straps to where it was too tight.

Over the years König became more and more anxious around others, there were very limited times the large man would go out into public because he knew people would turn him away simply for his second gender. And due to the large amount of prejudice it was hard to find both a pack and a mate that would accept him, that was until you barreled into his life (literally) that he felt like someone would love him. He's a very caring Apex that goes above and beyond for his mate, there were often times he would stay on his knees and would hardly make eye contact with you. His worst fear is you realizing you don't want an Apex as a mate and leaving, he honestly thinks his heart would stop beating if you did.

In a Rut:

Now this is where he really fears himself most of all. His ruts were strong and they only continued to grow the longer he kept denying himself release with someone else. But when he was assigned to KorTac they allowed him an alternative way to help him during ruts, by sending him on solo operations to let loose on the supposed targets. But again all this was before you showed up.

After you started to share Ruts and Heats together you realized that an Apex was really just a bigger Alpha, and one who wanted nothing more to provide for you. Now while I love König being an absolute sweetheart, that's not how he is during a Rut. König is demanding and can often be rough the first few times but it's only because he never had someone to spend it with, he does end up becoming much softer and sweeter after a while. You thought König was a big soft boi during this time for your first few couplings, nope his brain is empty besides the words Mate, Breed, and Protect for an entire week (good luck walking after that). And if anyone thinks otherwise y'all meet me in the Burger King parking lot at midnight.

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olderthannetfic · 18 days

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Obvious Disclaimer that this is not about any specific anon in particular, not about OTNF themself, but that my following rant might *slightly* punch down on people who ARE, well, older than net fics are.

But my honest opinion is that I really don’t like it when us old heads tend to sorta…talk down to? “Adultsplain”, if that’s even a thing? To The Gen Zs, by being like “damn kids! back in my day we never used our real name or posted selfies or posted about our personal life at all!” Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those people who never posted the real me — but not because I was anonymous and cared about online safety, because I was a liar 😂 That being said, there ARE older people who definitely over-shared or “doxxed” themselves and still do, and there’s younger people who don’t!

I also feel like being “ha, these stupid KIDS who post about their FANDOM LIFE on TIK TOCK under their REAL NAME AND FACE where IRLS CAN SEE THEM, how STUPID” is not doing anyone any favors. Is that, technically, a smart thing for kids to do? No. Has it become normalized? Yes. And does that suck for people who might be bullied or outed or whatever cuz they genuinely are dumb and don’t know better and then someone they don’t like sees their stuff? Yes.

We all talk about how there’s no more kids spaces on the internet and how that’s a shame, but then five seconds later we’ll reblog that one “At any time I’m at risk of seeing a 14 year olds opinion and that’s why I hate it here” post. There’s really so few kid spaces on the net now, that’s true. We should extend empathy and let the teens be obnoxious and pretentious in peace, rather than making it a point to “ratio” or “roast them.” Idk personally I’d be completely unbothered if some 14 year old insulted my fic or my ship or whatever. I’d just block and move on, no need to try to argue with them.

And also, not all kids are even pretentious or obnoxious! I’m not saying we all need to take the kids under our wings, but we should be careful about not hating them just for being in their teens years, you know?

Also… telling a teenager to not post PII or not get into discourse or not have social media or whatever will NOT work the way you want it to 😭 kids are by default a little bit oppositionally defiant so telling some rando teen to Get Off Your Lawn (blog) rather than just blocking them, will encourage said teen to Stay On Your Lawn.

I just hate how it’s become normal for adults to talk down to teens online. I was harassed by adults online as a kid, then years and years and years later i went through my own “Older Than You™️”phase where I myself was a shit to teenagers, and I truly regret that so much. To this day I still need to make an effort to be careful. I saw on Twitter where an adult posted a DM from a 13 year old, mocking them. The DM said “I’m 14 next year, can I follow you? Please don’t groom me.” And the adult OP was laughing at how stupid the dm was. A few years ago, I would’ve been one of the people retweeting that and rolling my eyes at the child. Now im disgusted by the people who WERE laughing at them.

And again I’m obviously not saying we should be “nice” to the teenagers who mock us for our ships or who virtue signal too hard. But we also don’t need to make fun of their CARRDS or call them Puri-teens or rag on them just for being 17 or younger, yk?

Teens aren't 'puriteens' just for being young, dude. They have to also be puritanical bullies.

I find the stuff about real names hilarious because, actually, if you're really Internet Old™, then you probably did use your real name... it was right there in your university e-mail address! Or your random early ISP address if your stepdad got it for you and thought the university format was the default. Thanks, stepdad.

I've done every single dumb thing from going to meet my internet pen pal at an Alice Cooper concert to flying to Ireland from Japan to stay with a fandom friend I'd never met without telling anyone where I was going and without a credit card or enough cash to flee if I had to. I remember sitting on the plane thinking "Man, this is such a CSI episode topic".

The really funny part was that despite what she'd said before I visited, we ran into each of her parents at different times and ended up going to a play courtesy of her uncle, and all of them were like "So how do you know each other?" and "But you'd met before, right? RIGHT?!"

The level of panopticon is horrifying now. Teens have my sympathy. That part really is worse, and I think it's driving an entire generation nuts and we're going to see even more shit about people wanting to run away and live in a cabin in the woods with no internet. But in general, I don't think we're so different.

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

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Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Epilogue - can be read as a standalone?!

A few months later-

For someone that prefers their skin to be flawless and smooth, Goo is awfully fascinated with yours. His hands constantly wander, tracing over your blemishes and imperfections.

"Hmm, I like your skin," his fingers run along your ribcage, taking his time, as if he's counting each one.

"What, to wear?" you ask him one evening, after he spent far too long pouring over your body.

He looks up from caressing a freckle on your hip and chuckles.

Well, that's comforting.

“Are you still mad, Princess?”

Damn this guy. He knows to pick his battles with you at your weakest. When you’ve spent the whole day in bed together, him drawing constant moans and whimpers from your lips until your mind is completely blank and your whole body is quivering.

Well. What does he think?

To be honest, after the shine of your reunion and your kiss had worn off, you had been filled with rage. Honestly, you never would have thought you would see a delinquent such as Goo Kim cower because of you.

It took weeks, months of work. Of peaks and troughs to get over the way he treated you. How he heartlessly ghosted you and tossed you aside and then reappeared in your life again as if that was fine.

Goo learnt the consequences to his actions, hated every moment, and had some eye opening lessons.

So no. You’re not mad anymore. Although-

“What if I still am?”

Your boyfriend grins at you with an insatiable hunger, ready to make you black out from pleasure.

Late nights are usual for Goo. He often comes home to find you fast asleep on his side of the bed, burying yourself in his scent like a safety blanket.

Tonight, while he undresses, the moonlight peeps through the gap in the curtains and illuminates your face.

Even seeing you lifts his spirits.

Especially tonight, as unfortunately, it also highlights your drool.

He laughs to himself, swiping it away with his hand, you stirring in your sleep when he does so.

A little gesture, that is really quite ordinary and meaningless but so desperately intimate is how the realisation comes crashing down on Goo that he is deeply in love with you.

That even as he felt his feelings blossoming, he never really managed to put the words to it until now.

How, before you, he never thought he would be someone that could fall in love but now there is no denying it.

Love is the only way to describe how he feels about you.

And another few months later-

Goo waits outside a small cafe, leaning against his eye-wateringly expensive car and fiddling with his phone.

A handsome blonde in a designer suit catches the eyes of many but he ignores them all, fixated on the mobile game.

And actually, a very happily taken man.

Knowing these pretenders would never be able to keep up with him. Not like you do.

He senses your presence before anything else, and looks up to catch you waving goodbye to your college study group.

As soon as you’re alone, you slump. The weariness of the day taking its toll on you; the demanding pace of your prestigious university course maybe being a bit too much.

Goo waits for you to spot him and it doesn’t take long. As soon your eyes meet, your face transforms, lighting up and your smile is brighter than the sun.

“Let’s go home hmm, Princess?”

“And this is the partner that I don’t hate,” Goo smirks, gesturing at you and happy with his backhanded words.

Gun doesn’t say anything, just studies you from the other side of the counter as you bag up their purchases.

“Hi,” you say, then look to your boyfriend for an introduction.

He flaps his hand in your direction, “He’s a nobody. Don’t worry about it.”

“Gun Park,” the other man says, letting the insult slide off him and extending his hand out.

This Gun is intense, matching that of your boyfriend, just in very different ways. But luckily, you may be the best person on earth to handle Goo Kim. You’re sure you can handle Gun Park too.

Not flinching from his black eyes, you hold his gaze as you reach out and shake his hand. Firm grip, brief, professional.

When they both leave, Goo blows you a kiss and Gun gives you a small nod.

You tilt your head at the dark haired man. Something about that nod feels like him approving of you.

And a lot more than a few months later-

Goo staggers in, reeking of alcohol, loud and headache-inducing.

“This is your problem now.” Gun dumps him in the doorway and leaves without a second glance.

“Huh?” Goo looks around, glasses askew, trying to place exactly where the fuck he is.

“Good night?” You ask, diverting his attention to you as a far off voice in his brain tells him this is his home.

“Y/N!” He slurs, suddenly hit with a burst of energy and throwing himself in your direction. Boy is he pleased to see you. Although, now he thinks about it, when is he not.

Goo grins, lopsided and with heart eyes, “I want to see you everyday.”

You must be cursed. Because even though Goo is an absolute nuisance when he's drunk, even more so than usual if that is possible; at the same time, his sappiness comes out in droves and you can never find it in yourself to be mad at him.

“You do,” you reply, handing over a glass of water.

“No. I want to spend all my time with you.” He frowns down at the drink that has appeared out of nowhere in his hand.

“You do.”

“No,” he pouts, on the verge of a tantrum because why on earth are you being so dense and not understanding him right now.

“I’m not dense, you’re just drunk!”

Oops. Goo giggles to himself when he sees you glaring at him. He was supposed to just think that.

“Princess,” he says, puppy dog eyes appearing after you force him to down the water in one go, “You don’t get it.”

“Tell me then.”

“I want to marry you.”

“Is that it?” You pluck the glass from his hand and replace it with another full one.

“Yes!” Goo is this close to stomping his feet. Can you please stop handing him water. That is not a reasonable response to him pouring his heart out over here.

“You tell me that all the time too.”

A frown. “I do?”

“Yes. But babe…”

“Hmm?”

“We’re already married.”

Goo looks impossibly confused until he glances down, and spots a shiny band around his ring finger. “Oh!”

He gives you another grin and your heart melts.

Goo used to think you would be an idiot marrying his high school sweetheart but turns out, he’s one and the same.

#lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo #kim joongoo x reader #wannaeatramyeon #school days with princess and the delinquent

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abitohoney · 11 months

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Bend and Break (Not Just the Rules)

Chapter 1 of 5 - More Than Just a Crush AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Modern AU, College/University AU, Professor Sevika, Student Reader, Humor, Porn With Plot, Eventual Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, a lot of this is probably super cliché and a bit silly, but I don’t give two shits cause it’s fucking hot and funny, Drinking, Masturbation, Smoking, Teasing, Size Difference, Enthusiastic Consent, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Sub Reader, Light BDSM, Impact Play, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, (yes I like the emotional whiplash of both kinks), Vaginal Fingering, Strap-Ons, Orgasm Delay, Choking, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Aftercare

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: When a hot professor in your field of study enters your radar, you’re quick to jump at the opportunity to get closer by taking her class. Temptations eventually lead the two of you to bend and break more than just the rules.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3. Trying to catch up here. Dedicated to the sweet and lovely @frooopsen (who makes much wiser choices in life than our silly reader does here 😆) Banner used with permission from @gabrielsellesty. You can find their original post here AAAnd one more thing. If you haven't seen it yet, please check out @sevikascrown's gorgeous artwork of Professor Sevika here.

The first day of a new class was always nerve-wracking, but there was one class that really set your nerves aflame, just in an entirely different way than one might expect.

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

You were the first one to arrive that day, and chose a seat closest to the professor’s desk. Nothing out of the ordinary, but you were rather excited for this class in particular. Not for the subject matter. Hell, you’d already taken the class the previous semester and passed with flying colors. But there was a new teacher that had taken over after the previous had retired. One you’d been dying to have a class with since you’d first spotted them when passing their office. Professor Sevika.

Though she was by far the most feared professor by a majority of your peers, known for her stoic appearance, short temper, and damn near impossible to pass exams, she was- at least in your mind- the most alluring woman you’d ever laid eyes on. She was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, only she also held all the softness and delightful curves of a woman.

So when she strode through the open door, her attention on the pile of textbooks and papers in her arms, you couldn’t help but beam at her. You just prayed she couldn’t see how your legs bounced excitedly beneath the table.

“Evening Professor!” you chimed.

Sevika, not expecting anyone attending one of her classes to ever arrive early, glanced towards you in restrained surprise before her signature scowl set back in place. She continued towards her desk without a word before dropping her books on it with a dramatically loud thump . Without looking your way, she murmured a curt, “You’re early,” and took a seat at the desk.

So I can have more time with you.

“Just excited for this class,” you replied, still beaming and hoping she’d give you at least a small glance.

She did, but only that. Her gray eyes peered over her reading glasses your way briefly before dropping to one of the textbooks she’d opened. A murmured, “Hm,” was all she offered you.

Short on words. That’s fine. Plenty to just look at.

You fidgeted with your pen, slowly clicking the button to extend and retract it while you let your gaze wander over the woman before you.

She wore a dark red button-up blouse that fit snugly over her chest. Though you couldn’t see it from her seated position, you knew she always wore it tucked neatly into her pants. The sleeves were rolled back to reveal a sneak preview of biceps that she could easily use to crush a man’s head, or a woman’s- specifically yours if you had your way. She also donned a simple golden chain that hung teasingly low, slipping beneath her blouse and most assuredly resting between her cleavage. Gods, you were damn near salivating at the sight of her. How on earth did the other students not see this? Granted, most of your fellow students were male, and you were quite certain your professor was only into women. Not to judge a book by its cover, but her cover screamed ‘LESBIAN’ in all caps and bright neon letters. Mind still wandering over all those reasons, your gaze rose from her chest to her face, only to be met with a narrowed pair of gray eyes.

Shit!

She caught you gaping at her fucking tits.

“Do you mind?” she grumbled.

Your cheeks could not possibly get any hotter as you fumbled stupidly for an apology- an excuse- anything to cover your shameful mistake. “I- I’m so sorry I-”

“If you need something to keep that hand busy, I suggest you review the first chapter of your textbook.”

Wait. What? Keep that hand busy?

Your attention dropped to your hand, which you only then realized was rather frantically clicking the pen in it.

Oh. Oops.

You immediately set the pen down and mumbled another feeble apology. As suggested, you quickly opened your textbook; Fluid Mechanics. Yet another thing about her that drove your infatuation to such a high level. The fact that she taught such a class- that she was that fucking smart- was just so… hot .

Try as you might, you couldn’t focus on any of the text before you. Your mind was reeling at the sound of her voice in your head. At the words she spoke.

If you need something to keep that hand busy…

Dozens of alternative endings to that statement rolled through your head in that low, rich voice of hers, none of which were by any means appropriate for a professor to speak to their student.

Curious if she had returned to her task, you slowly peered up from your textbook, only to quickly look back down when you found her narrowed eyes still on you from over the ridge of her glasses. Good god did she look good in those glasses too! But you could understand why most of her students were scared shitless of her. Given her large stature, noticeably toned muscles, and a stony glare mean enough to put even the mouthiest punk in their place, she was definitely a scary lady. However, to you, that was undeniably attractive. Hell, maybe you even preferred your women a little mean .

So began your silly little crush. Always the first to arrive to class, and always the last to leave. Greeted her each time with a big smile and received at least a glance from her, and at most a succinct reply. It did little to deter you though. If anything, it encouraged you to keep at it. Urged you to try breaking through that rock-hard exterior of hers. To find a weak point and grab her attention and approval. You started asking more and more questions during class- questions you already knew the answers to. You were the only student to excitedly raise their hand at any of her difficult questions. Surely she’d be fond of a student so engaged, eager to learn, and capable of proving they have learned.

It wasn’t until nearly halfway through the semester that you had the sudden realization that this had become something more than just a crush. That this had turned into a dangerous infatuation. One incident, in particular, became the real eye-opener. But, by that point, you were too far gone to go back.

In your typical seat front and center, you found yourself struggling to focus on the lecture. Not because it was boring or old news to you, but because Professor Sevika had apparently been rather warm that day, having undone one extra button on her blouse. Try as you might to keep your eyes locked on hers as she lectured, your attention repeatedly fell to the bit of cleavage revealed and the shiny gold chain that rested between it.

Her words quickly started to blur together as your mind drifted into a daydream. A fantasy .

Your eyelids eventually grew heavy as your surroundings began to blur and fade until it was only you and your professor in the room.

In your mind, she was no longer giving a lecture. She was speaking directly to you.

You couldn't quite make out what exactly she said, just the sound of her deep, sexy voice. You licked your lips as you watched hers move when she spoke. They looked so dark, soft, and… kissable .

She walked around the front of her desk to lean back against it, gray eyes on you as she spoke.

Your gaze drifted down to her legs, covered in the most deliciously tight gray slacks. They hugged literally the full length of her legs- from her toned calves to her thick thighs. Thighs you could imagine your head between. Thighs you did imagine your head between.

You could see it play out behind your closed eyes so vividly.

She sat at the desk chair, thighs spread wide as always. Her scowl quickly faded into a cocky smirk as she peered down at you from where you knelt between her legs. You eagerly, but obediently, waited for her approval to touch her. She ran the back of her hand- her so delightfully large hand- gently across your cheek. “Such a good girl. So patient,” she said softly. The praise left you rubbing your thighs together, trying desperately to relieve some of that ache- that desire. She gave you a simple nod and your hands immediately went to the tops of her thighs to run along the muscles beneath her pants. If only you could feel the skin beneath. Your gaze darted to the dark leather belt that rested along her curvy hips. You weren’t sure why she even needed a belt given how her pants fit like a damn second skin, but more importantly- it was an obstacle. Something preventing you from removing her slacks, from getting to that rich, brown skin of hers.

Your vision started to lose focus and the image behind your eyes blurred until you found her thighs positioned directly in your line of sight. That damn gold buckle on her belt taunted you. It made your fingers twitch with the urge to loosen it, remove it so you could slowly peel back her pants and reveal whatever treasures lie beneath. Your half-lidded eyes drifted further down, to the apex of her thighs where her pants fit so fucking tight .

Then, you heard your name- spoken in that low, sultry voice of hers- and as if with a mind of its own, your hand slipped between your thighs to ease the sudden throbbing that induced. Your lips parted, allowing a quiet, soft mewl to escape. Your eyes slowly drifted up to your professor’s, and you realized entirely too late that your little fantasy had gone way too far. That it had bled into your reality and you had made a terrible scene.

Without warning, Sevika’s hand came crashing down on your desk. The loud, resonating slap echoed through your muddled head and instantly ripped you from your little reverie. You were thrown back into reality, hit hard with the realization that you were rubbing your thighs together, touching yourself beneath the table, and fucking moaning while ogling your professor.

Oh god, shoot me now.

“I’d like to have a word with you after class,” she said sternly.

You peered up at her meekly, feeling terribly ashamed, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. "Y- Yes ma'am," you managed to quietly squeak out.

To your surprise, she didn’t really look angry. Just… confused? Concerned? Either way, it did nothing to ease the nauseating feeling that took over the earlier pleasant ache low in your belly.

As Sevika made her way back to her desk, you glanced around the room. It seemed none of your classmates were privy to what exactly you had done, but all eyes were wide and honed in on you.

You’d need to come up with a damn good excuse for your behavior, but as your eyes darted to the clock on the wall behind your professor, you found that was unfortunately not going to be possible.

“Test this Friday,” Professor Sevika called to the class as she took a seat.

While the entire class erupted into simultaneous groans and sighs, you sat quietly panicking over what the hell you were going to tell your Professor about your behavior. How the fuck do you cover up the fact that you were touching yourself to filthy fantasies of her?

As the rest of the class quickly filtered out of the room, you slowly gathered up your items and stuffed them into your bag, all while trying desperately to avoid eye contact with your professor or anyone around you.

Once only you and your professor remained, you reluctantly made your way to her desk, head hung low and eyes on the floor.

From her seat at the desk, Professor Sevika simply peered up at you, brows furrowed. In complete silence .

You’re not sure how long she let you simmer there like that, watching as you nervously shifted from one foot to the other, but it was long enough that you decided to finally lift your gaze to meet hers. You instantly regretted it, because she then removed her glasses, drawing your attention to those smoky gray eyes, which she had trained on you. Any words you’d had prepared to explain yourself vanished. Poof! Just like that. Gone. Replaced with useless thoughts. Thoughts that would only get you into deeper trouble.

Her eyes are so intense. So pretty.

Thankfully, your professor finally spoke up, breaking the awkward silence and disrupting your trailing thoughts.

“You’ve been paying less and less attention in class over the past couple of months, and I understand why now.”

Your heart sank back into the pit of your stomach again. You’d been caught acting horribly inappropriate and you were about to get chewed out for it. Maybe even kicked from the class. Your gaze dropped again and the heat returned to your cheeks.

“I’m so sor-”

“However-” she interrupted, grabbing your attention again, “-you’ve been outperforming your peers. Your test and quiz scores have been near perfect. I’m… impressed.”

Your eyes darted to hers.

Did- Did she just say she was impressed?

You remained silent, just waiting for her to get to the part where she scolds you for fantasizing and touching yourself during class.

“I looked at your transcript this morning. I see you’ve already taken this class. Passed with the highest grade even, so I can understand why you wouldn’t feel the need to pay attention.”

Wait- what?

You tried not to let her see how baffled you were, but it was damn near impossible to hide when you’d been so damn sure the conversation would go in an entirely different direction. How could she not have noticed what you were doing?

“What I don’t understand is why you’re taking this class again.”

Relief washed over you. Not only did she apparently miss your little show, she also seemed calm, not angry. She even seemed… intrigued ?

Thankfully, you were able to come up with something quick-witted, because you sure as hell couldn’t tell her the real reason.

“I needed extra hours for insurance purposes, and I really enjoyed this class.”

She simply stared at you for a moment– and good god that heated gaze of hers was somehow both terribly unnerving and incredibly arousing at the same time.

“Your talent would have been put to better use in a class you haven’t taken yet.”

You thought hiding your shock before had been difficult, but she’d just dropped the second compliment in the short span you two had been talking.

“I- I suppose so, but this is my last semester. I don’t need any more courses.”

“Hm. Interesting,” she replied, and you could have sworn you caught those dark lips of hers pull up at the corner just a bit, but it was gone so quickly you weren’t sure if it had just been in your head. “Well, I’d like to ask that you at least pretend to pay attention so as to set an example for the rest of the class.”

“Understood, ma’am. Again, I’m terribly sorry.”

With a simple nod, she dismissed you and turned her attention to the pile of papers on her desk.

You left as quickly as you could, desperately trying not to look as crazy as you felt.

CH2 >>

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes

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miami-lolz · 1 year

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In hindsight, this quote hits a lot harder considering “Mortyest Morty” isn’t even his Morty. And he’s not the “Rickest Rick”.

Does not include any spoilers for Season 7.

I feel like this quote is slept on a lot because it makes you wonder if he was even aware of the implications of what he said or if he said it knowing Morty wouldn’t understand. I don’t even think he would want to admit it, but he’s not “The Rickest Rick” mainly because he cares. Specifically, he gives a shit about a Morty that isn’t even his.

It’s shown subtlety throughout the show, like in the Season 1 Finale, Ricksy Business, when Rick got teary-eyed over a slide show showing Morty throughout his life. In A Rickle in Time, where Rick is willing to let himself die to save Morty, his last wish is for Morty to grow up better than him. As jaded and backward as he may show it, Rick definitely cares. Rick has had to switch to multiple universes and watch various versions of his family including his original Diana and Beth die throughout the show. Morty was his only constant, though, and he’s grabbed onto that. But for as much as he cares, Rick has a habit of pushing away, which comes into effect in the later seasons. Morty tries to help and relate to Rick to an extend. He constatly extends a branch to Rick, who almost always puts him down.

However, the more Rick pushes away, the more frustrated Morty gets. He starts calling out Rick on his BS and has even cussed him out several times. He’s threatened to stop going with Rick in the early season, but those were practically mute. Rick could easily force him or make him forget he started refusing. Rick only started taking Morty seriously when he began acting out. The more that Rick pushes back, the more the Prime part of Morty comes out, usually at the expense of anyone around him. I think that is the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back and pushed him to leave in Forgetting Sarick Mortshall with the two crows thing. Something that still upsets Morty if someone mentions it in season 7.

It also makes you think that the reason Morty has gotten progressively more aggressive and violent over these past couple of seasons is that the Prime part of him is getting more prominent. For example, in Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat, Morty got so obsessive over a future that he didn't brutally die; he quickly brushed off Ricks's death. It's somewhat out of character for him, though. He also attacked other soldiers and the general populace, just for him to find out it wasn't really worth much. Rick is getting more combative because he sees that part of Prime in Morty, which scares him. The episode Looks Who’s Purging Now was the starting point for his volatile behavior; Rick seems genuinely shocked and somewhat horrified as Morty's anger problems get the better of him, and he lashes out, killing many people even when they are hiding. Rick lied to Morty because he didn’t want him to know what he could do. Near the end of The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy, Morty threatens Ethan with the machine Summer used after he ghosted her and messed with her body issues. In the after credit scene, we see a deformed Ethan stumbling in pain, implying Morty used the machine on him.

In Promortyus, Morty also showed little remorse for killing off all the aliens and went out of his way to cause damage, though he regretted it once he had to come back. A Rickconvenient Mort, Jerry was genuinely disturbed to hear Morty admit he murdered the Tina-Teers. And during the scene, Morty was extremely brutal. Its not the first time Morty has committed some diabolical crimes for someone he's interested in or generally cares about. In the episode Mort Dinner Rick Andre, his violent streak hits its crescendo. Once he got fed up with the Narnia people, he committed mass genocide out of frustration, and by the end, he didn't show much remorse.

I think the most damning evidence is the episode Rickshank Redemption, where during a stand-off, Morty is so fed up with Rick yelling at him during a standoff that he shoots Rick in the head. Not an arm or leg but in the forehead. He absolutely shot to kill. And yeah, you could say it was a spur-of-the-moment action based on frustration and impulse, but I think that was put in the episode not just a funny bit but a glimpse of what Morty is capable of. It was Morty basically saying "If were all going to die, Ive earned the right to be the one to take you out." There’s something symbolical about Morty killing both his best friend and the person that’s hurt him for years.

Its an interesting dichotomy as Rick seems to be mellowing out; Morty is slowly getting more comfortable with violence and generally more confident with himself. Rick is someone who gives off the bravado of a uncaring, cold hearted galactic criminal. However, the truth is Rick is someone who cares deeply for the people he's close to, and gets no enjoyment out of violence. Morty, on the other hand, is someone who tries to be caring, mercy full and forgiving. That being said, deep down he wants to stop having to constantly take the high road and give back all the pain and abuse he gets from others. These personality traits between the two constantly clash and the longer the live together, the more you see their original persona's corrode.

The season six finale, Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation, adds to this as Rick compares Morty to a “suicide bomber” because he was reckless and says he gets that from Prime. But C-137 is the only constant in Morty's life. He’s been through multiple universes and timelines but has had the same Rick for most of his life. Most of Morty's issues stem from things he had done or witnessed with Rick C-137. For example, the Vat of Acid Episode is what I would consider Rick at his absolute lowest. It's almost the kinda behavoir you would expect Prime to pull. Messing with Morty's head and killing a bunch of other Mortys just to say, "I told you so." Even going as far as gaslighting him by saying he COULD have listened to Rick tell him how it worked, even though Rick probably wouldn't have told him either way. It caused communication between these two to break down. At that point, you can tell Morty doesn't have much trust or faith in him, and when Rick replaces himself with a robot that treats him just a little bit better, Morty immediately notices. He even thought Rick was messing with him and brought up the vat of acid episode. This is another example of how the Ricks action leaves permeate consequences and effects on Morty. Don't get me wrong, Morty is far from perfect and flawed, but so is Rick. They have real emotions and conflict, and it's these factors that separate them from Prime (at least from the glimpses of him that we have seen)

However, Morty does exhibit certain traits unlike what we've been lead to believe is normal "Morty" behavior. In Rickmurai Jack, Morty tries to lie to Rick and even goes as far as to age himself nearly 40 years to get him to come back. Another example is in The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy, Where Morty coaxes Rick into going on an adventure with Jerry to keep him from committing seppuku, though there's a good chance it was just to get a break from adventures. Rick can’t really blame most of Morty's behavior on Prime because any behavior he picks up past season one is from him and him alone. But even then I don’t doubt that there are behavioral similarities between him and Rick Prime. The Prime universe was everyone’s personality amplified.

Rick almost likes to pretend his the top dog, the Rickest Rick but as few others, including Bird Person and the toxic version of himself, has pointed out, he’s not. He’s highly capable but he’s also vulnerable. Season 6 ended with Rick getting Morty more involved in the search for Prime, forcing him to face the truth of Mortys origin. But regardless one thing is for certain, Morty is really the Mortyest Morty in the finite central curve, and that scares C-137.

#adult swim #rick and morty #rick c137 #morty c137 #morty prime #rick prime #character analysis

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002yb · 9 months

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I had an idea. What if a never adopted Dick Grayson stays in the circus and he meets Jason Todd Wayne, the son of the most known billionaire in the town. And while hes really interested in the handsome boy what actually draws him in its the way Jason's eyes light up while he looks at Dick while performing, how he waits for him after the show to thank him (being the blushiest of boys) for such an amazing show, how after, when they're talking in the night his eyes reflect the fireworks and Dick is sure that Jason's orbs are more beautiful that anything hes seen

(Also imagine Bruce being an embarrasing dad and bith trying to set his boy up with his acrobat crush and wanting to preserve the babygirl's virtue)

An intense but fleeting love affair during Haly's brief tenure in Gotham because the trope never stays in any one city for too long. They're a traveling circus, after all. It's passionate and wonderful and sweet though and Jason holds onto the memories of it forever. //u///

In every universe, let Dick Grayson be Jason's first love. <3

It's not traditional for a circus act, but Jason still brings a bouquet of flowers to give Dick after one of his performances. And he's at that age where he gets tongue-tied and shy in light of all his awe and wonder, but the sentiment is so clear and Dick is so taken by this sweet boy. Performing is such a high for Dick, but to see Jason's wonder is exhilarating.

Dick taking one of the flowers from the bouquet and giving it to Jason. And when Jason stands there like a deer in the headlights, flushed and flustered, Dick laughs a bit - charmed - and tucks the flower behind Jason's ear and through the curls of his hair before he parts with a devastating smile and the warmest of thank you's

Also, back it the fuck up. Dick not realizing the flowers are for him. And he comments on how pretty they are before he gets the memo and the above happens. And then when he tucks the flower behind Jason's ear he gives Jason a little look and smiles a cheeky little smirk and is all sweetly flirty with a, 'yeah, pretty.'

AHH

Meanwhile Bruce standing two feet behind Jason just barely holding himself back from smacking Dick's hands away because this is fine. It's harmless. Jason, his sweet baby girl, is happy as can be. Look at that blush burning on the back of his neck. Oh, fuck.

Omg Dick making eye contact with Bruce and giving him one of these little ornery menace smiles •ᴗ•

That's how Bruce sees it, at least. In truth, it's a completely normal smile. And Bruce smiles back, but ◉‿◉

What I said about this being a fleeting love affair? Wrong. It's a years long thing that comes about because Haly purposefully makes a stop in Gotham every damn time and Bruce takes it personal. So does Jason, romantic that he is.

A relationship developing throughout the years. Friendship and youthful crushes and everyone knows it and thinks it's darling

It's Dick giving Jason a tour of the circus and introducing him to all his extended family

It's Dick being most excited to show Jason to the elephant. And laughing when Jason startles when Zitka scoops Jason up to sit on her trunk. Dick balancing Jason until he steadies and then they're all close and cozy and Bruce sees them from a distance and is mildly panicked because Jason can't have a boyfriend yet it's too soon this is scary territory alfred--

But also Dick teaching Jason other little tricks. Like juggling. And knife throwing. Little acrobatic tricks.

Dick bringing out Jason's playful side. An active encouragement given to Jason's quick wit and sharp tongue because Dick meets Jason tit for tat each time.

And by the time they're older, they're an unspoken thing. Whenever Dick gets back into town, Jason isn't far. It's the sweetest reunion each time with beaming smiles and hugs where Dick spins Jason around a couple of times before settling and just breathing in this boy he doesn't see nearly enough.

It's them getting into more trouble as they race through the circus

It's Jason helping to set everything up because he's so familiar with the going-ons

Sometimes Dick isn't even around. Jason will hang out with whoever is free. Oftentimes the older trope members, the retired aunties and uncles who entertain before the main act.

Omg, Jason sitting with some sweet granny and when Dick comes to fetch him after taking care of Dick's own chores, the granny shoos Dick away because he's not stealing Jason away that quick - wait his turn

Just Jason having endeared himself to a tight knit group after years and years

Dick used to be the circus sweetheart, but lbr. When Jason became Dick's sweetheart, things changed. //u///

But yes, more sweet happenings!

With Dick racing away with Jason after shows to get to the best spot to watch fireworks. Being more lost in the reflection of them off Jason's eyes than anything. Jason teasing Dick about how the fireworks are up there and Dick, smooth as can be, laughs and blatantly flirts because the fireworks are right here (as he points between the two of them)

And Jason flusters so bad he's sure he dies a bit and he shoves Dick and complains because corny (but Jason loves that)

Just two not quiet kids, not yet adults walking that line of plausible deniability although like...this is it

But wait:

Jason always bringing Dick a bouquet of flowers and Dick returning the same ritual of threading flowers in Jason's hair

And when Dick whisks them off to be alone after shows, all the sprigs of smaller flowers and foliage end up a crown over Jason's head. Sometimes with small petals stuck to Jason's skin

Extras:

Because you know there has to be a little silks scene where Dick gets his arm around Jason and gets them soaring off the floor in a little circle

And also trapeze because there's no way it can't happen

Just Jason leaping (and whoops forgot about Bruce, but his heart stops because that's his kid falling he doesn't care there's a safety net) and Dick drops himself from where his knees were hooked over his own bar until he's holding on by just his ankles because he saw Jason didn't jump quiet far enough

And it's just more charming smiles and heart thumping cuteness and Jason being in awe while Dick is all enamored ahhhhhh

#dickjay #jason's first love is dick grayson #circus au

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laurenairay · 1 year

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we’re lost and found - A. Beauvillier

Summary: “It’s always going to be you, Bells.”

One visit to Vancouver changes everything for the friendship of Anthony Beauvillier and Isabella Thornton.

A/N: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s birthday bingo!! I really hope you enjoy this Demi – I cycled through various combinations and players before I was happy with the following for Beau: trade angst, friends to lovers, playlists as a love language, “it’s always going to be you”, the morning after the night before. I haven’t written a full fic for Beau before so this was a fun challenge! And yes, I fudged the last game in the Canucks schedule for creative licensing. Happy birthday my dear 💛

Title from Wings, by Birdy. Here is the final playlist mentioned in the story.

Words: 14k

Warnings: angst, miscommunication, sappy sweetness, idiots in love.

Thank you @cellythefloshie for being the most amazing beta and cheerleader while I was writing this!

“Cabin crew, prepare for landing. Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be arriving in Vancouver. Please ensure all hand luggage is stowed, tray tables are folded away, and your seatbelts are fastened.”

Even as her stomach swooped with the slow descent of the airplane, Isabella couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. She’d been up since the crack of dawn. Her first flight from JFK airport leaving at 7am, and with the layover stop in Seattle lasting one and a half hours, she was more than ready to be done with travelling for the day. It wasn’t that Isabella disliked flying though – she just wanted to be on solid ground. This trip was to be a mixture of business and pleasure; her work wanted her to go to an industry conference to support a couple of the Sales guys giving speeches, her marketing role allowing her that first-hand experience; the conference was scheduled from Tuesday 11th April to Thursday 13th April, but she had decided to fly in on the Saturday before, also taking a vacation day either side of the conference, to extend her time in Vancouver.

Why? Because one of her closest friends had moved from New York to Vancouver only a couple of months ago, and she missed him more than words could describe. It seemed like he felt the same way, because the moment Isabella had mentioned the conference and that she was able to take a couple of vacation days around it, he’d immediately offered for her to stay at his apartment, giving them the time to catch-up, to spend the time together like they hadn’t been able to in so long.

There was no universe in which she would ever say no to Anthony Beauvillier.

So here she was, Saturday 8th April, ready to spend some time with one of the most important people in her life. Soon enough the plane landed and made its way to the gate, allowing everyone to exit. Thankfully Isabella’s suitcase arrived quickly and her journey through security was smooth, so in no time at all she was walking out into the arrivals hall, eyes scanning the crowd of people.

And then she spotted him.

The moment Anthony noticed her too, smile spreading wide across his face, it felt like a breath of fresh air. Finally. Isabella wasted no time in rushing over to him, dropping her suitcase to throw her arms over his shoulders, Anthony hugging her just as tightly too. It was all she could do to bury her face in his neck, breathing in that familiar cologne as well as the scent that was just Anthony himself while he buried his face in her long dark hair.

She’d missed him. She’d missed him so much. Talking to him over the phone just wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t even close to replacing what it felt like to see and hold him in person. After what felt like eternity and yet somehow not long enough, she let him go, dropping her arms from around his neck, taking a single step backwards to look him up and down.

“Damn, you look good Beau! West-Coast Canadian air clearly does wonders for you,” she grinned, hamming up the compliments to make him squirm just as she liked.

A familiar light flush dusted his cheeks as he shook his head fondly. “Says the New York fashionista gracing us with her presence.”

Her tanned cheeks flushed too at his compliment, but she just laughed and batted at his chest before picking up her suitcase from where it had fallen on the floor. Flattery would always work with her and he knew it.

“I missed you,” Anthony said suddenly, smiling softly as he took the suitcase without saying a word.

Such a sweetheart.

“I missed you too. 10 weeks without you and my life is poorer for it,” Isabella said with a dramatic sigh.

Anthony blushed heavily this time, ducking his gaze, making her smile as she laughed. So cute.

“I know I’m mainly here for work, really, but I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my time with you,” she said, threading her arm through his.

“Me too. You’re going to have a great time, I promise.”

She knew she would, even just by being in his company, but she didn’t need to say that out loud.

With her arm still linked with his, Anthony guided her back to where he’d parked his car, lifting her suitcase into the trunk like the gentleman he was.

“Thank you for the new playlist for my flight, by the way,” Isabella said, wiggling her phone to show what she meant as she got into the front passenger seat.

“No problem, Bells, you know that. It’s our thing, right? It’s not like I could let you travel out here for the first time without a new list to listen to,” Anthony shrugged, starting the engine.

From the small smile on his lips, she knew he was far from nonchalant. He was right too – making playlists for each other really was their thing. When she’d started hanging out with him and Mat and some of the other Isles boys, Isabella and Anthony had bonded over their shared love of music, sharing recommendations on Spotify almost immediately. Making playlists started with creating background music for parties held at their various apartments, but, for whatever reason, over time it grew into the two of them making playlists just for each other. She’d lost count of the number of playlists she’d made him for his long travels on the road, and the amount of study playlists he’d made for her were in the dozes over all her college years. Then there were birthdays, holidays, vacations abroad as a group, and just general ‘you seem down, let me cheer you up’ playlists.

Making playlists for each other was something that Isabella and Anthony had made into something that was just theirs, and she treasured it.

“I loved the Twenty One Pilots songs you chose,” she said, smiling.

“Catchy, right?” Anthony mused, “I wasn’t sure about those Bastille songs though.”

The vibes of these playlists of important, they both knew that. But like always, he’d nailed it.

“They were perfect. The whole list was great, I promise,” Isabella insisted.

This time, his pleased smile shone through. She loved that he loved putting together all these songs just for her – the same way that she loved doing it for him. Was it wrong to cherish something with him that was hers and hers alone?

The drive to Anthony’s apartment felt like it flew by as they continued to talk about the music they’d both been listening to lately, and soon enough she was walking through the front door of his apartment.

“We’ve got a couple of hours before I need to leave for the arena and then you’ll still have a few hours before you should leave to head down too, so plenty of time for you to settle into the guest room and unpack your stuff. I’ve got a fabric steamer if you need them for your conference clothes?” Anthony explained, locking the front door behind them.

The thought he put into everything was astounding.

“I probably will need to steam out some creases at some point,” she mused, thinking of the three blazers she’d packed, “But that can wait until Monday night. How about you give me a tour?”

There was no way she wanted to think about anything to do with work until she absolutely had to. The next couple of days were all about relaxing. Sure, Anthony would be flying out for two games in California tomorrow, but that just meant she wanted to make the most of the time she had with him.

As he showed her around the two-bed apartment, Isabella could admit that it was pretty sparse. At least compared to the apartment he had in New York – but he’d only been here just over two months, so she knew she couldn’t expect him to have fully settled in yet. She could only hope that he was going to give himself the chance to settle in properly, especially since the Canucks season was technically over.

Sure, they still had four games left to play, including tonight’s, but mathematically they were already out of the playoffs. Isabella could only imagine how that felt for him. It was something that they hadn’t really discussed, if she was being honest. The trade was a sensitive subject in their friendship group, and she hadn’t known how to ask how Anthony felt about it when the trade had first been announced. But she worried about him, being out here all by himself. How could she not?

At least there were elements of his personality in the apartment, a framed poster here, photos of his family there, silly polaroids of their friendship group in New York on the fridge with magnets. It was enough to settle the worst of her concerns, and by the time she’d dumped her bags in the spare bedroom he’d declared was hers for the week, she noticed that the edge of tension had melted away from him too.

“I know it’s not much yet but…”

“But nothing, Beau,” Isabella interrupted, smiling as she leant against the doorframe, “You’ve only been here a short while – you’ll make this a home in no time.”

“You think?” he asked, his hesitance obvious.

Well that wouldn’t do.

“I know. Now come on, feed me before you need to leave for the game,” she said firmly.

“That’s the Bells I know,” he snickered.

Isabella just laughed at the accuracy – he really did know her - before sticking out her tongue at him and making him laugh. There was the smile she loved.

Isabella took a quick shower while Anthony cooked them lunch, an easy healthy chicken stir fry, and all too soon it was time for him to leave her alone. While she felt a tiny sense of trepidation about being in a new city all by herself, she knew that she only had a little time to kill before she was going to see him again anyway, so she pushed it down as much as she could.

“You’ve got the phone numbers of people at the arena to call if there’s an emergency, right?” Anthony asked, pulling on his suit jacket.

“I can 99% guarantee you that there will be no emergencies in the two hours before I leave here too. But yes I have them – so go, Beau!” Isabella giggled.

He held up his hands in surrender but smiled down at her anyway, kissing her on the cheek before he walked out the door. Isabella sighed softly, fingers rising to brush over the same skin his lips had brushed, smiling fondly. That was a particular tradition she’d missed as well, the casual affection he’d always shown her. She didn’t know if it was a Québécois thing, or just an Anthony thing, but she’d missed it all the same. It was sweet, just like everything he did.

As she settled in on the sofa, she sent out a few text messages to let various people know she’d arrived safely; some of her friends at work, Mat, her mom. She’d fully intended on ignoring the replies, knowing nothing urgent would be coming through, but when she saw 5 notifications from Mat, she opened up their text thread out of curiosity.

From: Mat Bells! You made it! Beau has been buzzing all morning. Give him a kiss from me. After he’s kicked some Flames ass obvi.

This guy. Isabella rolled her eyes fondly, smiling at the energy she could read even in his words, before biting her bottom lip. Anthony had been buzzing? He hadn’t seemed that way to her – sure, he was happy to see her, all smiles and long hugs, but buzzing? Hm.

From: Isabella I’ll pass along your kiss, weirdo. He seemed pretty chill to me?

From: Mat That’s because he got all of his crazy energy out by texting me. You know he wants your trip to be amazing. You are going to his game tonight, right?

From: Isabella If you say so Barzy. I wouldn’t miss his game for the world.

Mat didn’t text back again, so Isabella just chalked down the strange exchange to him missing his friend too. Still…no. Barzy was being Barzy, and that’s all there was to it. The two hours after Anthony left flew by, Isabella just getting herself lost in a good book, and it wasn’t long before she was walking towards her seat in the arena. Along with leaving a new Canucks jersey (with his name on the back, of course) for her in the hall closet, Anthony had left her ticket at will call, which she picked up easily after the uber she took dropped her right out front. Just as she’d requested when he had asked, she was in the bottom tier but at the back – she didn’t want anything ostentatious – and with an overpriced beer in hand, she took her seat.

Right from the start, the game was a nail biter. She cheered at the top of her lungs as Pettersson and McWard scored for the Canucks with all the supporters around her. Only for her to be left wincing when Lindholm and Kadri scored for the Flames in the third period, on the edge of her seat as the game finished out at 2-2. She could see the frustration in the team’s faces, let alone in their body language, and the moment that the shootout started her heart was pounding in her chest.

As soon as Kuzmenko scored the winning goal, Isabella leapt to her feet yelling in celebration with the crowd around her, the biggest smile on her face as the team celebrated on the ice. What a way to end of the game.

There was no rush she’d ever felt like watching a hockey game live in person - and now she was lucky enough to go congratulate her friend face to face rather than over text. Arriving early ahead of her conference really had been such a good idea. Anthony had texted her the instructions for how to get down to the tunnel to wait for him, so she followed those after the stands had emptied out a bit, not wanting to fight through the crowd. At the very least it meant she didn’t have to wait as long in the tunnel by herself, and soon enough Anthony was walking out to meet her, shy smile on his face.

Shy? No, that wouldn’t do.

“Beau! Congratulations!” she said cheerfully, loudly enough to draw a bit of attention to them and to get that familiar blush she loved to see rising on his cheeks.

“You enjoyed it then?” he mused.

There was enough hesitance in his voice to let her know he needed her reassurance, and she wasted no time in hugging him tightly, smiling as he immediately hugged her back.

“I had the best time. Talk about a nail biter!” she laughed, pulling back just far enough to look up at his face, “You know I love watching you play.”

The rosiness of his cheeks let her know that her honesty had been the right thing to say.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Anthony murmured, squeezing her slightly before letting his arms drop.

“Ooh, wait, there’s something I need to give you,” she said quickly, clutching at his hands.

Anthony froze slightly, but made the most interesting gasping noise as she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a big wet smacking kiss on his cheek.

“W-What?”

Isabella just grinned, letting go of him. “That is from Barzy.”

Anthony’s smile seemed to falter slightly before he huffed out a laugh. “Of course. That sounds like him. I’ll have to text him to say thanks.”

Isabella snickered. At least their mutual friend couldn’t say she didn’t pass along his message. That’s what friends were for!

“What’s the plan now then?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“It’s up to you, really. A few of the guys are going out for drinks if you wanted to go too? It’s not going to be a crazy one because we are flying out to LA tomorrow, but it might be fun for you to meet some of the team? But if you’re tired from travelling then we can absolutely just head back to my place,” he explained.

The hopeful look in his eyes made her smile. He really wanted her to meet his new team, didn’t he? He wanted her to like them – it was important to him, she could tell. So there was only one answer she could give.

“Let’s go out for a couple of drinks then! Maybe if jetlag finally hits we could leave early?” she suggested.

She had been awake since 3.30am after all, having left for the airport at 4am. Relaxing for a couple of hours ahead of the adrenaline of the game had helped keep her going, but she knew it would hit her at some point. But meeting his new team was important to Anthony, so she wanted to do what she could, even if it wasn’t her at 100%.

“Perfect. You just let me know whenever and we can head out,” he said firmly.

Such a sweetheart.

In the end, she lasted around two hours before she felt her social battery dipping into dangerously low levels, starting to space out of conversation even though she’d only had two vodka sodas, and in no time at all Anthony was guiding her through the front door of his apartment all over again. His teammates had been so sweet – at least the ones that she’d met tonight – and seeing the smile that all their interactions put on Anthony’s face filled her heart. Even after 10 weeks, it was clear that he’d found a good space for himself here, just as he deserved to and just as she’d hoped. Brock, Petey, Quinn, Thatcher, Travis and Ethan, along with their partners (those that had them) were all so friendly and welcoming, and she’d enjoyed telling stories about her time in New York with Anthony, as well as hearing how well he was settling into the team in Vancouver.

It had been everything she’d wanted for the first day of her visit – what more could she have asked for?

“Okay I’ve got cold bottles of water in the fridge or I picked up that brand of peppermint tea that you like,” Anthony said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Peppermint tea?

“You don’t drink peppermint tea, Beau,” she frowned, “you bought it especially for me?”

“Well, yeah, Bells. Of course I did,” he shrugged, although a light blush hit his cheeks.

This guy.

“Peppermint tea would be great,” she said softly, still a little stunned that he went through the trouble for her.

What a perfect way to wind down. The two of them sat on the sofa while she drank her tea and he drank a bottle of water, talking about all the things Anthony wanted to buy for the apartment when he came back next season (a couple of throw rugs, art for the hallway walls, a new smoothie maker, and so on). It felt like they were back in New York, like no time had passed and nothing had changed, which only made her heart pang a little more when it was eventually time to go to bed. She was flagging, hard, and he had an early start tomorrow, as much as she didn’t want this little bubble to end.

“Good night, Bells,” Anthony murmured, leaning against the doorway to the spare bedroom.

“Good night, Beau,” she murmured back, not wanting to break the moment as those blue eyes caught with her own dark brown ones.

He smiled softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of her head before he walked down the hallway to his own room, leaving her feeling like she was floating on air.

What a first day indeed.

“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!”

Isabella groaned at the loud sound of her best friend’s voice, eyes blearily looking over to where he was standing in the open doorway.

“What?” she groaned, “What are you doing?”

“First of all, I tried knocking, like, three separate times. Second, I made eggs and bacon and toast, duh. Breakfast, remember? Before I fly out with the team?” he teased.

Oh fuck, yeah of course. How could she forget? Anthony took one look at the expression on her face and burst out laughing.

“There’s also coffee. Clearly you need some,” he snickered.

Rude. Accurate, but rude. Isabella flipped him the bird, making him laugh harder, but at least he left her alone to deal with her bedhead. Her natural curls were a pain in the mornings, especially without taking a shower to deal with them properly, so she just threw them up on top of her head into a loose bun while she headed to the bathroom. She’d already decided she would be straightening her hair for her conference, for ease through those long days, but for now this would have to do. It wasn’t like Anthony hadn’t seen her looking worse.

After quickly washing and dressing into leggings and an oversized sweater, Isabella headed out into the kitchen, wordlessly accepting the coffee mug that Anthony pressed into her hands with a smile. Mmm perfect.

“Thanks for this, Beau. You’re amazing,” she murmured happily.

Interestingly, the back of Anthony’s neck flushed red, his back turned to her as he plated up their food.

“It’s just coffee, Bells,” he said, shrugging.

No it wasn’t and he knew that.

“Okay, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and wholemeal toast, bon appétit.”

“Merci beaucoup.”

Anthony grinned at her attempt at French, Isabella just grinning back.

“So what are you going to do today and tomorrow? Your conference doesn’t start until Tuesday, right?” he asked, scooping up some eggs with his toast.

“I’m not going to do much, I won’t lie,” she mused, earning a grin, “I might take a walk around your neighbourhood today, maybe find a coffee shop or something? And then just a chilled night in, probably with take-out. Tomorrow though…hm, I probably need to do my nails before the conference so I’ll either pop out to buy some nail polish or I’ll book an appointment in a salon? If the weather is nice I might get lunch out, have a walk in downtown, see the sights? And I do want to get a bit of preparation work done before everything starts on Tuesday, ahead of watching your game against the Kings.”

She’d had enough time on her flights to plan at least a few things at least anyway. What? Isabella liked to be prepared.

“You don’t have to watch my game if you’re busy with work,” Anthony frowned.

What?

“Beau, in what world would I not watch one of your games?” she asked, confused.

“I just…I mean, I…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, only confusing her further.

“It’s hard enough that I don’t get to see you anymore. Watching your games is the closest thing I have,” she said, frowning.

The look that passed across his face could only be described as devastation. “Fuck, Bells, you can’t just say things like that,” he said softly.

“Why not? I mean it, Beau. You’re one of my best friends. I love watching you play, you know that,” she said simply.

Anthony smiled slightly at her, but it looked strained. “I know you are. And I appreciate that more than you know.”

“But?” she prompted.

He hesitated for a moment, before letting out a shaky laugh and shaking his head. “But it’s too early and neither of us have had enough caffeine,” he deflected.

Isabella narrowed her eyes but took a big gulp of her coffee in response, making him laugh and roll his eyes fondly.

“Never change Isabella Thornton,” he mused.

“Oh ouch, full name. Definitely too early for that,” she said, grimacing dramatically.

Anthony just laughed louder.

In the end, the rest of her Sunday was spent exactly as she described to him. After he left, giving her a long lingering hug in the hallway after leaving her a spare key, she did in fact wander around his neighbourhood, taking in the cutesy local park and little shops, spending a couple of hours in a coffee shop with the book she’d started reading the previous afternoon. It was a good way to spend a time, nice and chilled exactly how she liked her downtime.

Before he’d left too, Anthony had given her the rundown of his favourite local restaurants, including an amazing Thai place that she knew she had to try – so that night, before taking a shower to sort out her wayward hair, she placed a takeaway order. Isabella hadn’t been able to decide between the panang beef curry with jasmine rice and the tofu pad see ew, so in the end she’d ordered both. Whatever she didn’t eat, she would eat tomorrow after her first day at the conference finished, ahead of watching Anthony play against the Kings. It was just logical, right?

By the time she had her curls plopped up in an old t-shirt, ahead of straightening them when they were fully dry in the morning, the food had arrived. The smell of both dishes was heavenly – she’d have to thank Anthony for his recommendation for sure.

Her phone buzzed twice. Beau 💛. Speak of the devil.

From: Anthony Heading out to team dinner soon. Hope you didn’t get lost wandering around today?

Isabella barked out a laugh at the very idea of her just wandering around lost and not telling him, but found herself smiling anyway. He was concerned about her – so sweet, as always.

From: Isabella No I didn’t get lost. Thanks for checking though. Just ordered myself some take-out actually!

She included a selfie of her holding up one of the take-out boxes, pulling a ridiculous duck face pout to hopefully make him laugh. It was far from the first time the two of them had exchanged silly photos, and she doubted it would be the last. While she waited for a response, she forked some noodles into her mouth, clicking on the TV to find some entertainment for the rest of her evening.

Three buzzes.

From: Anthony The Thai place! Great choice! Kinda wish I was eating that with you rather than the steakhouse we’re heading too lol. You look very cute and comfy.

She found her cheeks heating up with a light blush at his last words, quickly shaking her head to rid herself of any ridiculous thought. He didn’t mean it like that. He just didn’t.

From: Isabella Thank you for recommending the place, it’s SO good. Nah you enjoy the steakhouse Beau!

She didn’t expect to hear back from him, not with the game starting so soon, but the simple ‘xxx’ he sent her made her whole body warm. This guy, seriously.

Isabella knew how lucky she was to have a friend like him in her life. Unapologetically kind and sweet, always had her back, never failed to make sure that she was happy. Anthony was one of a kind, a true gentleman, and the fact that their chance friendship had turned into such an important part of her life was something she cherished.

She’d still been in college when they’d met, a mutual friend dragging her along to a party, and ever since that first night they’d just clicked. It didn’t make sense, not really, their worlds having very little crossover. But Isabella knew back then that all of that didn’t matter, proven by the fact that they stayed closed when she graduated college, stopping going to 99% of the parties, and Anthony stayed up in the show, proving himself night after night.

And now she was here – in his home in Vancouver while he was away, curled up on his sofa with his blanket draped around her. If anyone had told her five years ago that this is where she would be, she probably would’ve laughed – in what dreams was she going to build such a strong friendship with a handsome young NHL player? But this was her reality, it did happen, and there was no way she was letting him drift away, especially now that he’d moved so far away.

Isabella sent Anthony a text before she turned herself in for an early night, knowing she’d need to be up early to give herself the time to straighten her hair properly in the morning. It took less than 30 seconds to get a response back from him, making her laugh softly at his eagerness as she slipped into the guest bed.

From: Anthony Sweet dreams! 💛

She tried not to think too hard about how the little heart gave her butterflies.

Monday passed quicker than Isabella thought it would. Just as she’d told him – just as she’d planned – she treated herself to a manicure in a salon downtown as well as treated herself to a lunch out near the Quayside Marina, going for a walk along the waterfront before she did some prep work for her conference. It was only last minute checks of the presentations she would be part of, but she knew it would allow her to sleep easier without the what-if anxiety playing on her mind.

Along with eating the remaining Thai take-out and taking the time to straighten her thick curls ahead of the conference the next day, Isabella also watched Anthony play against the Kings on his stupidly big TV. The 3-0 loss made her ache inside, especially with how dejected the team looked even through the screen, and the moment that he texted her to ask if he could call, she didn’t hesitate to call him first.

His patented Sad Beau face made her ache even more, and it was all she could do to try to comfort him. She hated when he looked as sad as he did after this loss, the wear and tear of the season bearing down on him, but she wasn’t going to miss the chance to at least attempt to make him feel better. If she could help just a little bit, ease that sadness, then she would – seeing him look all soft with his fluffy hair and glasses in his hotel room was motivation enough.

The sweet smile she managed to drag out of him by the time they said goodnight was everything she could’ve hoped for.

All too soon, Tuesday 11th rolled around, and Isabella walked into the hotel the conference was being held in with her work laptop and an air of confidence she only partially-felt. Usually she had no problem talking to people – give her a bar or a party or a restaurant or even a casual barbecue and she could chat away for hours. But when it mattered? When the opinions of the people she talked to about their impression of her would be a deciding factor in whether her company would get their business in the coming year? It was terrifying.

But she was dressed the part, wearing her grey bodycon dress and black blazer like armour, her hair pin straight and her make-up perfect, and that gave her the boost to be able to fake her she was feeling.

At least her two Sales colleagues couldn’t tell how nervous she was when the three of them set up the company booth. By the time they were finished setting up, people were still walking in, so Isabella volunteered to grab them all a coffee. She hadn’t had time for her usual caffeine intake before she’d left for the conference – something she was definitely going to make sure she did ahead of Day Two – so this was more of an excuse to be able to wake herself up properly, to make sure she stayed at her best on this opening day.

Just as she returned to the booth and passed out the requested coffee, her phone buzzed. Beau 💛

From: Anthony Good luck today! Kick some ass!

Oh how sweet. Even though he undoubtedly had a late night after playing the Kings yesterday and travelled to Anaheim today at some point too, he was thinking about her?

From: Isabella I will do my best to kick ass, metaphorically. Good luck to you too! And kick some actual ass yourself! I’ll be watching the game tonight at yours again.

From: Anthony 💛 💛 💛

Again, his response came through incredibly quickly, making her think he was just waiting for her to text him. Why would he do that? Surely he had better things to do than wait around for her to text him?

And why did he only text three hearts?

Isabella found herself completely lost in thoughts, overthinking everything he could mean and everything he likely didn’t mean, and everything in between. It wasn’t like her to overanalyse every interaction with Anthony, but maybe it was the Vancouver air, or the fact that they’d been separated for the longest time in years. She honestly didn’t know where it was coming from, and she hated how uncertain it all made her feel. What was he playing at? Why was he acting like this, now? Was she just reading too much into it?

“Uh, Isabella?”

A deep voice to her left broke her out of her spiral, and she jumped slightly at the hand awkwardly waving in front of her face.

“Sorry Jerry, the caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet,” she said, forcing a laugh, “What’s up?”

He just laughed, taking her lie without question. “We need to go set up for the presentation. We’re up first today, remember?”

“Of course, let me grab my laptop,” she nodded.

It was simple enough to set-up and get the presentation going, if she was being honest, just clicking through the presentation slides while he was talking on stage (and their other colleague was manning the booth), and it allowed her to drift along on auto-pilot, only needing to focus on his talk and the screen in front of her. Thankfully she only needed to give input on one question he was asked in the Q&A portion, and she found herself smiling as everything finished to a hearty applause, accepting Jerry’s subtle high-five with a laugh.

The rest of the conference went smoothly, Isabella mainly able to listen to the other speeches given and take notes to feed back to the executive board while her Sales colleagues focused on schmoozing other attendees. It was one of the perks of being a marketing team member at a conference – outside of the presentations, the pressure really was off her. And at least her two colleagues this time were decent guys, rather than some of the assholes she’d been paired with before, so she didn’t hesitate to accept joining them at the after-drinks. With the conference finishing at 3pm, she allowed herself a few hours to relax and drink a couple of cocktails, but as soon as it hit 6pm she was in an uber on the way back to Anthony’s apartment. There was no way she was going to miss his game, not even if she’d had one of the best cranberry martinis she’d ever drank.

By the time the game started at 7pm, Isabella was dressed in her pyjamas was a bowl of pasta in her lap, willing the team to have a better result than the night before. For Anthony’s sake, if nothing else. And what a game it was. The moment that the buzzer sounded, ending the game with a 3-2 win over the Ducks, Isabella’s face hurt from smiling, and she wasted no time in reaching for her phone and thumbing open her message thread with Anthony.

From: Isabella YESSSSSS! Go Canucks! I’m so proud of you Beau. What a great game. 3-2 baby! I know you’re probably going out for drinks or dinner or whatever with the team. But call me when you get back to your hotel?

Isabella lost track of time while she waited for him to respond, distracting herself with washing up all the things she’d used to make dinner as well as doing her night-time facecream routine, so by the time her phone buzzed with a video call request, she was sitting on her bed up against the pillows. The moment that his smiling face appeared on her screen, something settled in her chest that she didn’t realise she was holding onto. He already looked so much happier than when they spoke the night before, and she found herself sinking against the headboard with a smile of her own.

“Hello Beau,” Isabella said fondly, “That’s the smile I like to see.”

“Hey Bells. You like my smile?”

She blushed at his teasing words, but powered through. “You know I do. Happy Beau is much better than Sad Beau.”

“I wasn’t Sad Beau.”

“You were sad enough,” she mused.

He just huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“No-one else calls me out like you do.”

Her breath hitched in his throat at his words, making her hesitate slightly before answering. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing. You help remind me to keep the bad balanced with good, that there’s still positive things in my life even when everything feels like shit. I appreciate that more than you know.”

She resolutely ignored the butterflies flaring in her stomach, the smile spreading across her face again conveying more than enough.

“Well that’s what friends do, right?”

“Yeah. Friends. Exactly.”

The way his smile flickered at that must’ve been a technical glitch in the call, surely.

They continued to talk for nearly another hour, losing themselves in easy conversation as they always did, until Isabella noticed Anthony started yawning, even as subtle as he was attempting to be in hiding it behind his hand.

“Hey, Beau, I’ll let you get some sleep yeah?” she murmured.

“What? No, I’m fine, really.”

Isabella laughed softly, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You played an intense game today and you have an early flight tomorrow. Get your beauty rest.”

He smiled through the screen, eyes half-lidded with tiredness.

“Okay, if you insist. I’ll see you after your conference finishes, yeah?”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait,” she grinned.

“Me too. Goodnight, Bells.”

“Goodnight Beau.”

When the call ended, Isabella took a moment to indulge in the sweetness of his smile before shaking herself out of her silly thoughts. Was it so wrong to enjoy the way he looked at her sometimes? Surely not. Besides, he wouldn’t smile at her if he didn’t mean it – he’d said as such, how much he appreciated her. She could always work with that. With a b out of inspiration, Isabella grabbed her personal laptop and opened up spotify, ready to make Anthony a playlist for his flight home in the morning. He deserved to have his good mood continue, to arrive back with nothing but positivity in his veins. This was something she’d done dozens of times before, and it didn’t take her long to put together a list of songs nearly two hours long that would hopefully put a smile on his face. She put a few final touches to the playlist with Shake it off by Taylor Swift, Shut Up and Dance by WALK THE MOON, and Come on Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, finding herself smiling at the good mood she had curated. Done. Perfect.

From: Isabella Sleep well Beau. Looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow! I made you a playlist for the flight – positive vibes only.

From: Anthony You’re the best. See you tomorrow. 💛

Day Two of the conference – Wednesday 12th – found her dressed in a pretty lilac shift dress with a grey blazer of the top, another immaculate set of armour allowing her to get stuck into the networking that was happening in between all of the speeches and presentations. Isabella mostly let the Sales guys do their thing, but she was able to contribute a bit more with people who approached their company booth, supporting the discussions by using examples of the campaigns she’d personally ran. At least, she felt confident enough with the approving nods and the handshakes exchanged with potential clients. Anthony’s flight had landed mid-morning, right on schedule, and he'd very sweetly messaged her the moment he arrived home. So instead of attending drinks again when the conference finished, she headed straight back to Anthony’s apartment. She didn’t feel bad skipping out of the social time, mainly because it mattered more for the Sales guys to be there, but also because she desperately wanted to spend her limited time with Anthony while she still could.

“Bells!”

Anthony’s happy shout combined with the way he rushed over to her and lifted her up in his arms, spinning her around seconds after she shut the front door behind her let her know she’d made the right decision.

“Anyone would think you were happy to see me, Beau,” she giggled, clutching at him tightly.

Anthony just grinned, shrugging apologetically as he lowered her back down to the floor, although his cheeks had a light flush to them.

“Of course I’m happy to see you. It felt weird knowing you were finally in Vancouver but I wasn’t actually there myself,” he said simply.

Yeah she could understand that.

“I missed you too,” she murmured, shrugging off her blazer and hanging it up on the coatrack.

Isabella raised an eyebrow as Anthony’s ran over her formal lilac dress, taking her in like he’d never seen her before.

“I suppose it’s not the clothes you’re used to, hm?” she mused.

Strangely, her words made him jump slightly, as if she broke him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“The dress?” she teased, “I know I don’t usually wear them this formal, but come on it’s not that bad.”

“No, uh, not bad at all. Definitely not used to you wearing them,” he said quickly, nodding as he blushed a little heavier, “You look great though.”

“Thanks Beau,” she grinned.

What a sweetheart. Even if he was still blushing.

“Thanks for the playlist by the way. It really helped me get through the flight this morning,” Anthony said, heading towards the kitchen.

Isabella followed him with a smile, that smile widening as he wordlessly handed her a cold bottle of water from the fridge, nudging him with her shoulder in thanks.

“It was the least I could do. Besides, the good vibes in the songs gave me good vibes too,” she shrugged.

“Great vibes – especially that last song,” he grinned.

“Come on Eileen is a classic for a reason,” she said seriously, making him laugh just like she knew it would.

They talked about day two of her conference as they chose what take-out to order for dinner – they settled on Vietnamese, including summer rolls, beef brisket phở, and tiger prawn curry noodles, settling on the sofa while they waited for it to arrive. It was only then that the conversation took a heavier turn, as Anthony suddenly looked exhausted down to his bones, and not just physically.

“What’s going through your head? What’s wrong?” Isabella asked softly, resting her hand on his forearm briefly to capture his attention.

“I feel like I failed this year,” Anthony said quietly.

What?

“I’m sorry, what?” Isabella asked, confused.

“The team didn’t make the playoffs. The season is over and I just…I failed, right? The Canucks haven’t made the playoffs for the 8th year in a row and the Islanders did make it, so clearly they were right to trade me, and I just…I don’t know what to do.”

His rant flew from his mouth faster than she had ever heard him speak before, and the sadness entrenching every word made her heart ache in the worst way. He really felt like this? Like he was a failure? How long had he been hiding his self-deprecating emotions like this?

“You did not fail. You are not a failure. You’re just one guy, Beau,” she said firmly. “You didn’t ask for this trade, not in the slightest, and you’ve made a good solid start for yourself here. The Canucks needed you and you gave them a boost of course, but it is so not on you. Do you think Petey and Brock and Quinn and literally everyone else feel like you let them down?”

“No,” he admitted softly.

“Then don’t let yourself feel like that. Yeah, it sucks. Not making the playoffs is everything you didn’t want to happen. But you guys are way too talented for it not to build up for next season. You are far too talented, Anthony Beauvillier, and it will work out,” she finished.

“Ouch, full name,” he said with a weak smile.

She just batted his shoulder lightly with a hand, pursing her lips. “I mean it, okay? You worked hard and this year it just didn’t work out. I have full faith that things will click for you next year.”

Anthony hesitated for a second, before letting out a shaky sigh.

“I might just have to let your faith be the only faith for a little while,” he said softly.

Her frown softened to a gentle smile, and she squeezed the shoulder that she batted only moments before.

“If that’s what you need, then that’s fine. My faith in you isn’t going anywhere. You have one final game to play, right? So you go out there and you show them what you’ve got. Show yourself. I’ll be watching with imaginary pompoms,” she mused.

“Can I get you real pompoms? Maybe a cheerleader skirt too?” he grinned.

That was the Anthony she knew.

“You are pushing your luck. Keep that in your dreams,” she snickered.

Interestingly, he blushed furiously at her words, making her laugh. What a reaction.

It didn’t take much longer for their Vietnamese take-out to arrive and they settled as easily as ever next to each other on the sofa, sharing all the dishes in a way that felt so effortless, a reminder of the life they led back in New York. Anthony switched on an old favourite action movie while they were eating, just something to play in the background while they ate and talked and enjoyed each other’s company, and Isabella didn’t hesitate to seamlessly transition that into cuddling on the sofa when the take-out boxes were empty.

She did ignore the butterflies in her stomach flaring up as his thumb brushed her bare shoulder though. No, tonight was about Anthony, giving him comfort, not about her ridiculous notions.

The last day of her conference, Day Three – Thursday 13th – started with Anthony joining her for coffee and breakfast. She knew he had no real reason to get up early with her, but she appreciated the sweet gesture nonetheless. As she caught an uber over to the hotel conference hall, her mind was reeling from the sleepy smiles he sent her way, even more so with the soft parting kiss he pressed to her cheek as she said goodbye to him.

Why now? Why were all the feelings she’d fought so hard to bury surfacing out now?

But Isabella didn’t have time to get lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t let herself – couldn’t let herself. No, all she allowed herself to do was to brush her shaky hands down her navy blue sheath dress and matching navy blazer as she walked into the hotel before she threw up her confident walls, greeting her colleagues with a practiced smile.

She already knew that the last day of the conference would be mostly final presentations and speeches, so she let them consume her, taking notes as diligently as she was able to be able to report back to her bosses. It was a blessing in disguise really, letting her work monopolise her mind, and she found herself swept up in the last rounds of networking with a genuine smile on her face. In all honesty, the conference had been a success – her Sales colleagues had garnered all of the business and attention they were meant to, and her contributions had been smooth and fruitful. That didn’t mean she stayed around for the final night of drinks though.

No, when the conference talks finished at 3pm, she caught an uber straight back to Anthony’s apartment, ready to go to the final Canucks game tonight. The game started at 7pm so she had more than enough time to shower, eat a little something while she dried her natural curls, and change into comfy jeans and Anthony’s jersey. He was already at the arena by the time she’d arrived back at his after packing up the company stand, so she caught an uber down to the game again.

Same as last time, he had left her a ticket at will call. She had asked for a ticket in the stands rather than in the box. It was just the atmosphere she wanted to surrounded by, the sight of him upclose being a welcome bonus. By the time she was heading down to her seat with an overpriced beer in her hand, it was time for warmups, and as she watched the Canucks skate out to excited cheers, she found her seat right by the glass.

Of course, of course he got her glass-side seats. Isabella rolled her eyes softly but found herself smiling anyway. Anthony always was so thoughtful, and this evening was no different. She caught his eyes as he skated past her and she waved enthusiastically at him, ignoring the looks from people around her as he happily waved back. Let them be jealous. They didn’t share the friendship the two of them had so she didn’t care what people thought of the interaction. She did snicker quietly as she noticed the obvious teasing his teammates gave him when he skated back over to them though. Bless his heart and his rosy cheeks too.

The game was a nail biter, even more so than the other three games she’d watched this week had been. For each Canucks goal she jumped up out of her seat cheering, high fiving everyone around her. For every Coyotes goal, she winced and listened to the boos around her. By the time the third period ended 4-4 ahead of going into OT, she felt like she was in an emotional wringer. This was the last Canucks game of the season; she knew how much it meant to Anthony let alone the rest of the team, so when the buzzer sounded it was all she could do to keep breathing, hoping for a miracle.

And praise Garland for his game winning goal only 1.19 into the OT, hats flying onto the ice to mark his hattrick as the arena erupted in cheers and shouts for the 5-4 win. Isabella’s hands were stinging from clapping by the time the stands started to empty, her cheeks aching from smiling, but she didn’t hesitate to go down to the tunnel like she had that first night, waiting for Anthony to be finished.

As soon as he walked out to meet her, she squealed, making him laugh as he swooped her up in a hug.

“Ahhh Beau! I’m so happy for you! Such an amazing assist!” she said, when he’d put her back down.

Anthony’s assist on Garland’s power play goal was the Canucks second goal of the game, the first of Garland’s three, and she was so proud of him for ending his season so well.

“Felt good to contribute in our last game, I will admit,” Anthony said a little sheepishly.

“See, I told you! Positive thinking!” Isabella grinned.

He just laughed, making her smile soften. He really was so cute, especially when his happiness was shining through like this.

“Most of the team are heading out for drinks again tonight, especially with the win in this last game of the season. Do you want to go?” Anthony asked her, smiling softly.

Like she’d want to be anywhere else.

“Absolutely,” she nodded, “I even brought a leather jacket with me to wear over this tank top instead of the jersey.”

“Oh perfect, I’ll put your jersey in my car before we catch ubers to the bar then, so you don’t have to carry it around,” he said, smiling.

So thoughtful.

The booths reserved in the bar were full of players, various family members, wives and girlfriends, so Isabella didn’t feel like the odd one out for the celebration of the end of their season. That didn’t mean she moved far away from Anthony though. All night they were side-by-side, and Anthony seemed oblivious to the looks he was getting from his teammates where he had his arm round her waist, where he was murmuring in her ear. With the way the drinks were flowing, Isabella didn’t care enough to say anything, to correct their assumptions, letting herself slip to a level that she usually wouldn’t with alcohol. She wasn’t drunkdrunkdrunk, not by any means, but she was far merrier than she usually allowed herself to get, clinging to Anthony in a way that she always had refused herself.

The music blared, shots were pounded back, laughter filled their group, and all throughout Anthony held her tight, his hands possessive in a way they had never been before. He held her closer than he ever had as they swayed on the dancefloor, bodies pressed close, the energy between them crackling. She let herself pretend that it was the heat of the bar not his intense eyes that had her flushed and giddy. The vodka mixers allowed her to pretend anyway, and by the time that Anthony mentioned making a move back home, much later than she thought they would, her mind was a happy haze of BeauBeauBeau. Nothing else mattered, not the knowing winks or the giggles, not the way her feet were aching, not the way she leant heavily on him as they made their way out of the bar to the waiting uber.

They were still leaning against each other as they stumbled out of the taxi at his apartment building, Isabella giggling as she waved goodbye to their driver. Anthony helped hold her up in the elevator, using the wall to prop himself up, Isabella just snuggling into his broad chest with a happy drunken sigh. This was perfect. Did he always smell this good? Was he always this warm?

They slowly made their way to his front door, Anthony holding her close in a way that wasn’t helping them walk in a straight line. Isabella just stayed clutching at him, letting him guide her, humming quietly to herself as she smiled up at him, especially as he smiled widely down at her, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. He struggled to open the front door, making her giggle like she had done getting out of the taxi, and he pressed his finger to her lips in an exaggerated shush, only making her laugh harder. This was bliss, this was heated happiness, this was…her stumbling into the doorframe and falling forward. She slammed into his chest, Anthony somehow holding her upright as he closed the door behind her, his body swaying as he tried to hold them both up.

Isabella clutched as his arms – so strong, so firm – looking up at him with wide eyes, only then noticing how close they were standing. How close he was holding her. Had they ever been this close before? Had his eyes always been that blue?

She jerked out of her thoughts as he pressed his lips to hers.

Isabella moaned softly before she could stop herself, Anthony quickly pulling away, lips red. Wow. Wow. So that was what it was like to kiss him? As she looked back up into his beautiful eyes, some of the fog in her head cleared, only to be replaced by how good that felt. She had to do it again. She had to know what it felt like to kiss him again.

It seemed like Anthony felt the same way, because one of his hands flew up to cup her head as he pushed her back against the door, a loud gasp tearing from her throat just before he took her lips in a kiss once more. There it was. This, right here. She melted into his embrace, clutching as his shirt with her hands as she hungrily kissed him back, Anthony moaning into her mouth before he slid his tongue past her lips. Her head spun as she lost herself in his kisses, her body lighting up with an electricity she hadn’t felt in a long time as their bodies surged together, moaning again as his free hand slid over her ass and squeezed. Never had she felt like this with a first kiss. Never had she wanted this much.

Then Anthony broke the kiss, barely pulling away, just enough so she could blearily see that he was panting as hard as she was.

“Do you want to…?”

“Yes.”

It was her pounding headache that woke her up, paired with the start of rolling nausea. All Isabella could do for longer than she could tell was breathe in and out slowly, measured breaths careful enough to not set off a run to the bathroom that she didn’t really want to do. She knew she drank more than she usually would last night; not enough to be obliterated, no, but these were the consequences that always reminded her why she had her alcohol limits. Her head feeling like it was going to crack in two, her stomach clenching over and over, her bare body clammy and chilled in the early morning air.

Wait, what?

Bare body. She was naked? What?

The moment that her mind processed the new information, the end of the evening caught up with her, reminding her exactly what had happened. Clutching hands, clashing lips, heated breath, stinging bites, pleasure like she’d never felt before. Anthony filling her, surrounding her, moaning out her name as she cried out his. Fuck.

Oh fuck what had she done? Tears stung at her eyes, clouding her gaze as she slowly glanced over her shoulder, carefully so as not to make her nausea worse…and there he was, just as naked as she was. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle any sounds that might escape her, glad she’d done so as the arm she hadn’t noticed draped over her waist tightened slightly with her minor movement.

She’d ruined everything. Everything. How could she have been so stupid to give in to her desires for him? How could anything ever be the same again between them?

Tears finally trickled down her cheeks as Anthony huffed a breath that ruffled her curls, his legs shifting enough to slot one of them between hers. As she cried, biting her bottom lip to muffle her quiet sobs, her headache came back with full force, throbbing like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was all Isabella could do to close her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, hoping that when she woke up again that all of this would disappear. A stupid aimless hope, she knew that, but it was all she could cling to.

She drifted in and out of sleep as the hours went on, head pounding and swimming enough that she couldn’t wake herself up fully let alone move, but by the time that the midday sun filtered through the curtains she knew she couldn’t avoid getting out of bed anymore.

Just as she was gathering the courage to remove his arm from her waist, that arm tightened again, pulling her roughly back against his bare body, making her gasp loud enough for Anthony to flinch -and quickly shoot back across the bed as he woke up in alarm.

“Shit. Shit, Bells…”

Isabella let out a shaky breath before sitting upright, clutching the bedsheets to her chest in a poor attempt at modesty.

“Hi Beau,” she said with a watery smile.

She knew her smile looked as fake as it felt by the way that Anthony’s face fell. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at a loss for words, so she stayed silent too. There was nothing she could say to make this situation better, she knew that. And it wasn’t like she even knew what to say either. Everything she had worked so hard to prevent, the loss of their friendship being the main part, was for nothing. This was the beginning of the end – and by the way he wouldn’t look at her, she felt it in her bones as a certainty.

“I…”

She cut herself off, swallowing heavily to stop the lump rising in her throat as Anthony closed his eyes briefly. Fuck. Fuck.

“I’m going to shower. And pack all my stuff,” she eventually managed to say.

That, at least, made Anthony finally look over at her.

“What?”

She cleared her throat, willing herself not to cry at the intensity in his beautiful blue eyes.

“I fly home tomorrow, and I haven’t packed yet. There’s only this afternoon left to do it, and seeing as I have to be at the airport by 6.30am, I really don’t want to be packing last minute tomorrow morning,” she said as calmly as she could.

“Bells, wait, please,” he murmured.

She forced a polite smile on her face, hating that he winced when he saw it, hating that it was necessary to make her feel even a little bit of normality.

“And I think I’ll book a taxi to take me to the airport too, as it’s early,” she finished.

Rather than Anthony taking her, as they’d agreed previously. Before this clusterfuck ending of their friendship.

“No,” he said sharply.

“What?” she said, bland masking failing a little.

“I’ll still drive you to the airport,” he said.

Why? Why would he want to do that?

“You don’t have to,” she said, voice cracking.

“I want to,” Anthony said, shaking his head, “Please, Bells.”

The desperation in his voice made her heart ache as much as it confused her. Why was he so insistent? Why did he want to do this?

“Sure.”

The relief in Anthony’s eyes only confused her more.

Friday was possibly the most awkward day she’d ever spent in Anthony’s company. Isabella had managed to make it through her shower with shaky legs, eventually sliding down the wall to huddle on the shower floor, the sound of the shower muffling her crying enough for Anthony to leave her in peace as he caught an uber back to the arena to collect his car. Even when he arrived back, he still left her alone to pack all her things scattered around the guest room, which she somehow managed to stretch out into taking two hours. The rest of the day had been spent avoiding him as much as possible, sitting at opposite ends of the sofa while they ate pizza that night, neither one of them wanting to cook for obvious reasons, and she had claimed an early night for her early start the next day.

But it had taken so long for her to fall asleep, her mind not shutting off, overthinking every little interaction the two of them had that day, so by the time her alarm went off at 5am she was even more exhausted than the day before. Still, she knew she couldn’t delay the inevitable, and got up to leave Anthony for what she feared would be the last time.

Because that was where this was heading, wasn’t it? Everything between them – their friendship, their closeness, all that they shared – had been ruined the moment she stepped into his bedroom in an alcohol-fuelled lust haze. Neither of them had made the step forward yesterday to do anything about their dwindling friendship, and now…now it was too late.

Her flight from Vancouver was due to leave at 8.35am, with her due to land in LaGuardia at 8pm, having one stop for connecting flight in Denver for 1.45hrs. Her company had booked flights for the cheapest options available; the timings and airports weren’t her choice at all, but in this moment, the early flight was some kind of blessing.

Unsurprisingly, their drive to airport was quiet. Isabella didn’t even have a coffee mug to distract herself with, not wanting the caffeine in this jittery body before she ate something a little later, so the time in the car with him felt like it dragged. That aching feeling only dragged out when Anthony paid $5.00 for the parkade and walked her to the main departures doors.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” Anthony murmured, handing her the suitcase he wheeled over from the car for her.

Why did that hurt so much more than she thought it would?

“I guess so,” she said softly, clutching at her handbag like it was a lifeline.

Without warning, Anthony stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. Isabella couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her throat, and she found herself hugging him back just as tightly, burying her face in the crook of his neck, trying not to tremble at the close contact. She could feel his face pressing into her curls, his breathing shaky like he was trying not to cry, and she desperately willed herself not to cry either when tears stung her eyes. This wasn’t fair. How had everything boiled down to this, after all their years of friendship? How was everything over?

She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t cling onto him when she knew that any moment she would have to let him go for real. So, Isabella found the strength to unclench her hands from his shirt, taking the step backwards that she didn’t want to take. Hundreds of words flew around her head, everything she wanted to say to him that she didn’t know how to voice. And it looked like he wanted to say something too, lips parting and hand raising towards her…until his hand dropped back to his side and he took a proper step backwards, clearing his throat.

A little bit of her died inside at the misery in his eyes.

Was this really goodbye forever?

“Have a safe flight. Let me know when you land?” Anthony said softly.

“It won’t be for nearly 9 hours,” she said, hesitating.

“I don’t care,” he said immediately, “Please?”

She just sighed, nodding. “Yeah, of course Beau.”

He smiled in response, but it just looked sad to her. As sad as the emptiness in his eyes. But before she could say anything to change his expression even the slightest bit, a big shuttle bus pulled up and a group of loud people stepped out, ruining the last chance. Their last chance?

It was all Isabella could to do smile sadly at him as she walked into the airport.

Her flight was restless – she was too awake to sleep but too caught up in her thoughts to read a book or watch a movie. If she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t even remember what she ate. If she ate. All she was able to do, as if punishing herself further, was to put her headphones over her ears to drown the world out and listen to the playlist he had made her for her original flight out, silently crying the whole time.

Her seatmate hadn’t noticed the way she was falling apart next to her.

Eventually she had to face reality as her plane landed in LaGuardia. It would do no good for her heart if she didn’t text Anthony as he’d asked her to, so she pulled out her phone as she waited for the plane to start disembarking.

From: Isabella Hey, just landed.

It was short and to the point, but it was all she could manage while she felt like a dried-out husk. Somehow, tears stung at her eyes when he immediately messaged back, like he was waiting for her in a way that made no sense.

From: Anthony Thank you for letting me know. I hope your flight was okay.

Was that concern? Was that politeness? She couldn’t figure it out in her exhausted state so she just exited out of their conversation and put her phone away. That was a problem for another day. All she could manage right now was standing up out of her seat and shuffling off the plane. Everything else could wait for tomorrow. It would have to.

Seven days. Seven days passed without a word from Anthony. This was the longest they’d ever gone without speaking, the time stretching out like an impossible chasm. She knew she could’ve responded to his message after her flight, but she hadn’t known what to say, and a couple of days later it felt too late to respond to that particular thread of conversation. But Anthony hadn’t contacted her again either. Maybe it really had been politeness, his comment on her journey, but if it wasn’t then she didn’t really know what to think.

All she knew was that the longer she didn’t text him and the longer that he didn’t text her, she felt like her fragile heart was crumbling, and she didn’t know how to salvage any of it – if anything could be salvaged at all.

Her body ached, the loss of contact with him feeling like a missing limb. She hadn’t felt heartbreak like this before, not with any ex-boyfriends, and this time it was all her fault anyway. Maybe she deserved to feel this empty, this aching. It was all she could do to trudge forward on auto-pilot, trying to get back into her routine as a desperate attempt to cling onto some form of normality. By the time Saturday 22nd rolled around though, she was done. Without work to distract her like it had all week, Isabella knew she needed to get out of her apartment or she would go insane from her overbearing thoughts. So she decided to treat herself to lunch out at a secluded café she hadn’t been to in a while, allowing the walk to clear her foggy thoughts, and by the time her sandwich was in front of her she felt a little more human.

“Bells?”

Isabella looked up sharply, breath hitching at the man standing in front of her.

Mat.

She hadn’t forgotten that this was the café that she, Anthony, and Mat used to all go to together. That did make sense why she hadn’t been there since he left New York though.

“Hey, Barzy, fancy bumping into you here,” she said warmly.

Mat just smiled as she stood up from her seat, wasting no time in giving her a big hug, making her laugh as she hugged him back. Clearly he had the same thoughts as her, getting out for a little while, especially considering he’d just had a run of playoff games against Carolina on Monday 17th, Wednesday 19th, and Friday 21st.

“I know we’ve texted back and forth a lot but I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since Beau got traded,” she said, smiling softly as he sat down opposite her.

But the moment that his smile turned sympathetic, she knew.

“He told you?” she murmured, smile falling.

He bit his bottom lip, hesitating, but that only made her feel worse.

“Barzy please, did he tell you what happened in Vancouver?” she whispered harshly.

Mat huffed out a sign before nodding “He did.”

She immediately felt sick, physically and mentally, her whole body seizing - but Mat quickly shook his head at whatever her face was doing.

“Bells, no, only because he’s freaking out that he’s ruined everything,” Mat insisted.

“Ruined everything?” she asked quietly, her voice catching in her throat as she tried to breathe.

“Look, I don’t know the details. And I sure as hell don’t really want to know them, that’s between you two,” Mat said firmly.

She couldn’t help but laugh softly at the dramatic grimace on his face, and Mat’s expression softened.

“He’s in a real mess, Bells. I’ve never seen him like this before,” Mat said, smiling sadly, “Did he ruin everything?”

He was in a mess? Just as much as she was?

“No, no he hasn’t,” she said with a sad smile, “I thought I did.”

“Man, you two are as bad as each other. I thought your trip to Vancouver would’ve sorted that out finally,” Mat sighed.

What? Sorted what out?

“What?” she managed to choke out.

Mat just shook his head fondly. “Everyone saw the way you two look at each other. We all thought you’d get together, although I’m pretty sure some of the rookies thought you were already dating.”

Well that was something she thought she’d never hear. What the hell?

“I just…he’s one of my best friends, you know? You’re my friend too - and you’re good for him. I want things to be back to normal between you two,” Mat said, smiling sadly.

If that didn’t break her heart even further, she didn’t know what would.

“I don’t know if they can ever go back to normal,” she admitted, hating the words as honest as they were, eyes stinging slightly, “But I don’t want to lose him. I just don’t know what to do.”

He pursed his lips, nodding as he fell silent for a moment. It was all she could do to sip at her coffee, especially as it looked like her friend was thinking hard.

“Do you like him?” Mat asked suddenly.

“W-What?”

“Do you like him? As more than a friend?”

She choked out a laugh, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to fight the tears that sprang to her eyes again. What kind of question was that? Of course she did. She’d never denied it, not that anyone had ever asked her. Anthony was her person, one of the only people in her life that she truly trusted. Of course she liked him. Hell, she was already falling in love with him at this point, she could admit that much to herself. And if Mat’s words held any truth…maybe he was falling for her too?

“Yeah. Yeah, I do like him. More than I probably should for someone who’s never heard from his lips how he feels about me,” she eventually admitted.

Mat’s face split into a smile. “Leave this with me.”

What?

“Barzy…” she warned.

“No, I’m serious, leave it with me. Do you trust me?” Mat said firmly.

“Yeah, you know I do,” Isabella said without hesitation.

Because she did. There wasn’t a malicious bone in Mat Barzal’s body, especially when it came to his friends, and Isabella was fortunate to count herself as one of them. But what did he mean?

“Then let me talk to him, okay? This will all work out, Bells,” Mat said seriously, “You’ll see.”

Hope was dangerous for her fragile heart. But here Mat was, dangling it down on a silver string.

“I really hope you’re right, Barzy,” she sighed.

He just grinned. A thousand girls would kill to have that beaming smile sent their way, but all she could think about was his blue-eyed friend on the other side of Canada.

“I’d better go – got the 4th game in our playoffs series tomorrow. But don’t be a stranger,” Mat said, standing up from his eat.

“I won’t. I’m rooting for you guys against the Canes,” she said, smiling despite the whirling of her emotions.

“Damn right you are,” he grinned.

There was the Mat she knew.

A few days more days passed without a word from Mat, or from…anyone else. She knew that Mat was busy, obviously having watched his 4th playoff game on Sunday. She’d even texted him after his 5-2 loss against the Canes, getting nothing but a crying face back which was more than she could’ve hoped for from him in this intense time. But nothing else, and she tried not to let that hope flicker away. She wouldn’t let herself get invested, not until she knew anything for sure. She couldn’t, otherwise she didn’t know if she would survive.

It took until Tuesday 25th for Isabella to wake up with a text from Anthony.

Her hands shook as she flicked open their neglected message thread, eyes stinging as she scanned his words.

From: Anthony I’m sorry that I haven’t texted you. I’m guessing you haven’t texted me either for the same reasons. I hate that everything’s gotten so awkward and distant between us but talking with Barzy yesterday gave me hope. Will you please listen to this playlist? we’re lost and found.

Isabella had already planned on working from home today but this would’ve pushed her to anyway. He’d actually messaged her. There was still hope? Anthony hadn’t given up on them after all. He’d made her a new playlist? And from the sounds of it, if he’d talked to Barzy like Barzy said he would, this was going to be something that was either going to break her heart for good or give her more hope than she knew what to do with.

Rather than opening the link on her phone, she opened up her personal laptop, clicking on the playlist we’re lost and found when Spotify was open, and quickly clicked play.

“Sunlight comes creepin' in, Illuminates our skin, We watched the day go by, Stories of all we did, It made me think of you, It made me think of you.”

As the lyrics to Birdy’s Wings filled the room, Isabella could do nothing to stop the tears from springing to her eyes. This song was one of her current favourites, he knew this. And if he’d remembered that…what else had he included in the playlist? She quickly scrolled through the rest of the list, eyes scanning every song, every choice he made, aching pangs starting in her chest at his selections.

Wings – Birdy Never Let Me Go – Florence + The Machine Hold You – Nina Nesbitt, Kodaline Wherever You Will Go – Charlene Soraia Teach Me How to Be Loved – Rebecca Ferguson Set Me on Fire – Bella Ferraro Kiss Me – Jason Walker Yours – Ella Henderson Still into You – Paramore Adore You – Harry Styles Tongue Tied – Take Me To Your Best Friends House Slow Hands – Niall Horan I Choose You – Sara Bareilles Lover – Taylor Swift Lover Of Mine – 5 Seconds of Summer this is how you fall in love – Jason Zucker, Chelsea Cutler Falling Like The Stars – James Arthur A Thousand Years – Christina Perri Take Me To Church – Hozier Next To Me – Emeli Sandé I Won’t Give Up – Jason Mraz When You Love Someone – James TW

She felt like she wasn’t breathing, couldn’t breathe, the long curated-collection sending her thoughts scrambling. Did he really feel…? Was he really saying…? Why was he only saying this now, when everything had become so fraught between them?

“If I could, then I would, I’d go wherever you will go.”

The Charlene Soraia cover, another favourite. Fuck, he really had put so much effort into this, hadn’t he? The thoughts, the emotions, everything that he was feeling he had put into this playlist. Playlists were their thing, and the fact that he’d made something like this for her, to show her how he felt…it was everything. She let the music wash over her, tears pouring down her cheeks as she let her heart truly feel what it wanted to feel for the first time, soaking in all of the emotion that he’d poured into this playlist. This was him, and this was her, and it was them. What more could she say?

“But with you I’ve learned how to let it out, Now my heart is ready to burst, Cause I feel like I’m ready for love, And I want to be your everything and more.”

Ella Henderson’s voice continued to spill out from her laptop speakers, but Isabella couldn’t take anymore. She had to speak to him. She had to know…she had to…fuck, she needed to hear his voice. And it only took three rings for him to answer.

“Hey, Bells.”

She sniffled as a couple of tears trickled down her cheeks, closing her eyes at the sound of his voice. “Hey, Beau.”

They fell silent for a moment, just listening to each other breathe, before Anthony eventually cleared his throat.

“You’re listening to the playlist then? I can hear Ella singing in the background.”

He knew it that well, that he could recognise a faint song? How many times had he listened to these songs before he sent them over?

“Yeah. Yeah I am. I have to know…Beau, why did you create this? Why these songs?” she murmured, eyes finally opening, staring at the list in front of her.

He huffed out a laugh, sighing softly.

“It’s always going to be you, Bells. There’s no-one else for me.”

The sound that tore out of her throat barely felt human, and her free hand quickly flew up to cover her mouth, a distraught sound coming through the phone as Anthony heard her.

“Hey, talk to me, please?”

She took a shaky breath, willing herself to stay calm, to keep herself together, and she nodded to herself, steeling her nerves.

“There’s no-one else for you?” she murmured.

“There hasn’t been for a long time.”

The smile that tugged at her lips felt traitorous somehow, her mind not believing his words. He’s liked her for a long time? How was this real? As if he could sense her warring thoughts, Anthony sighed.

“I don’t know what to say to make you believe me. Please, just listen to the songs. They show everything that I can’t over the phone. Music has always spoken for us before, right? So I’m trying to let it speak for me now.”

He was right. Music had always been the thing that connected them, that said everything they didn’t need to say. Except this time, she needed him to say something – and here he was, translating himself in a way that spoke to them both.

“You really feel this way about me?” she said softly, her voice filled with wonder.

“I really do. And I’m hoping, from everything Barzy said and the fact that you haven’t hung up on my yet, that you feel this way for me too?”

Right, because she hadn’t actually said anything that was on her mind. It was all him. Just like always.

“Yeah, Beau, I do. I like you so much,” she said, choking out a laugh, “I just…didn’t think you would ever feel the same for me. The last week has been torture.”

“I’m so sorry. I am so unbelievably sorry for ever making you feel like you aren’t the most important person in my life.”

She choked out a sob this time, her body thrumming, her heart aching, Anthony just making soft reassuring noises through the speaker until she was able to compose herself once more.

“I’ve got locker clear out tomorrow, and then…then I’m thinking about coming to New York for a few weeks. I think we should talk, really talk, face to face. We both deserve that much.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And I’d like that,” she said, a little shyly.

With further tentative plans for Isabella to join him in Quebec after he spent some time with her in New York, she ended the call, her heart full and her cheeks aching with smiling, tacky with happy tears.

Maybe she didn’t know what tomorrow would hold. Or next month. Or even when Anthony was back in Vancouver all over again. But she knew that what she felt for him was worth trying for. And wasn’t that all that mattered anyway? Anthony Beauvillier was falling in love with her just like she was falling in love with him, and she couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take her, especially with him by her side.

#my writing #anthony beauvillier fic #demi's birthday bingo #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier fanfic #anthony beauvillier x oc #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine

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thydungeongal · 8 months

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D&D is actually pretty good at what it does

So what can be done to make it better?

This is part five of my series of big silly posts about D&D, its mechanics, and how D&D best supports a style of play I like to call "Challenge Mode," and how it resists using it as a means to tell conventional narratives, i.e. "Story Mode."

Now, before I get to today's discussion: a lot of people already use D&D as simply a loose framework around which they tell stories and then ignore or bend the rules into the shape of the narrative they want. Those people are not the target audience for this post. The target audience of these posts are those people who already enjoy rules-mediated play and who wish to either hack D&D into a form where it better supports conventional narratives or to find games that already support conventional narratives.

Once again, I will be tagging this post as #the big damn post and you can find the previous four instalments below.

1. Terminologie

2. What is it that D&D actually do?

3. Misaligned Expectations

4. Challenge Mode isn't that scary really

Once again, let's go:

5. Hacking D&D into Shape

Another caveat before I start: I do think D&D is fine as is and that as written it does support challenge-based gameplay better than trying to use it to produce a conventional narrative. What I will be doing today is not presenting to you ready-made fixes to those structural issues of D&D that make it resist conventional narratives, but providing other games as examples for how these issues could be approached. If you like what you hear about these games consider these as either soft recommendations to maybe check out those games or as inspiration for your own hacks and house rules.

D&D's rules are concerned with soft simulation over narrative convention. I don't mean this in the Forge simulationist vs. narrativist sense because I don't find that model useful. Suffice to say that while D&D's systems are not realistic they at least try to gamify things as they are present in a real environment. A wet rock is harder to climb than a dry surface with plenty of handholds, because that's how it is. This emphasis combined with a famously swingy d20-based resolution system can often produce narratives that do not follow the pattern of rising action towards a climax.

What makes QuestWorlds principles easily adaptable to D&D is that it is also a d20-based system that uses target numbers that are expressed in increments of 5. What makes it somewhat alien to the way D&D's rules work is that QuestWorlds assumes that a single check may be used to overcome an entire obstacle, and that it is very much a let-it-ride system: there are no retries on failed checks, as a contest represents all of your attempts at overcoming a story obstacle. Hence, you probably wouldn't even roll to climb a sheer cliff: you might roll to see if you manage to climb the sheer cliff quickly enough to prevent the enemy guards from raising the alarm. A combat in QuestWorlds would be handled as an extended contest and would not necessarily result in death, but will potentially result in permanent consequences for the characters regardless of whether they win or lose (also: losing in a contest in QuestWorlds would not mean death necessarily). Resolving that with D&D's blow-by-blow combat system would obviously require hacking.

Enter QuestWorlds. Originally released under the name Hero Wars, later changed to HeroQuest to tie it better to the world of Glorantha and the RuneQuest RPG, and later changed once more to QuestWorlds as the copyright holders sold the HeroQuest trademark to Hasbro who were in the process of rereleasing the classic board game named HeroQuest (which kicks ass). QuestWorlds is a role-playing game designed by Robin D. Laws, and while it was originally tied very closely to Glorantha, the amazing fantasy world that kicks ass, QuestWorlds is these days billed as a universal system. However, whereas most universal systems like GURPS are very interested in some kind of simulation, QuestWorlds' system runs very much on story convention. In QuestWorlds, the GM first sets the difficulty of a given check or contest based on what would make the most narrative sense at the moment (if the heroes have been breezing through encounters and obstacles it might be time to introduce a truly difficult obstacle: if the heroes have been struggling it might be time to introduce an easy obstacle to release tension and get the story momentum going) and then describes the situation.

If any of that sounds interesting to you, the game has a free SRD that presents many of its basic principles, but I heartily recommend checking it out in full. I am not a 100% certain on QuestWorlds, but I know for a fact that all of the older versions released under the name HeroQuest include a method for altering resistance (or assigning DCs) on the fly based on the number of successes and failures in previous contests the group has accumulated, thus mechanically enforcing the ideas of rising action/tension, and release, which is what I think would be most adaptable to D&D. The main takeaway from QuestWorlds is thinking about obstacles in terms of what the story demands right now, and letting the story branch out from both failures and successes.

While QuestWorlds already addresses the lethality of combat in its own way, its method of combat resolution is so different that it isn't readily adaptable to D&D. Luckily, there are some very trad RPGs that have blow-by-blow combat in the style of D&D that address lethality in ways that respect story convention.

I'm going to talk about 7th Sea. As opposed to the very narrative-logic driven QuestWorlds, 7th Sea is a very traditional role-playing game albeit one with many nods towards genre emulation. It is a swashbuckling RPG, set in a fantasy world very much inspired by the Age of Sail, distinctly European in flavor, and meant to emulate various swashbuckling romances. Its genre emulation tools (Hero Points, Danger Pool) are resources that can be used by players to achieve improbably stunts or by the GM to introduce additional complications or adversity into the story. As such, Hero Points and Danger Pool also achieve some of what QuestWorlds' adaptable difficulty due to story demands does, but the lethality issue is the most interesting one. One of the GM's available uses for their Danger Pool is Murder, which means that a Villain can kill a Helpless Hero.

I spelled Villain, Helpless, and Hero with capitals because they are all game terms. A Villain isn't simply any old adversary: a palace guard that stands between the Heroes and their goal isn't a Villain. A Villain is a named NPC that opposes the Heroes. Now, Helpless is very much like Dying in D&D, so when you've taken too many wounds. The distinction should be obvious: a Helpless Hero isn't necessarily dying, but they have sustained so much damage that they are prone and can not act (unless they spend Hero Points). The only way to kill a Hero is to have a Villain present and for the GM to have enough points in their Danger Pool to Murder them.

But even then, a player whose character is present at the scene can immediately spend all of their Raises as well as a Hero Point to save their comrade. That character is now out of the scene, but also immune to any further attempts to Murder them in this scene.

The simplest way to adapt this rule into D&D is to simply make it so characters are by default not dying once they hit 0 HP, but simply helpless and stable. Characters may not even be unconscious, simply too weak to move. This also achieves the potential for losing without dying: a group that gets beaten to 0 HP gets taken captive or left to die.

Only once there is a named NPC villain on the scene can players die. Now, without introducing the Danger Pool into the mix simply having an NPC villain murder helpless PCs might feel unfair, so this is where I suggest you look for a hack or house rule that addresses that issue.

And finally, the resource management structure of D&D does little to help shape conventional narratives. This one is the trickiest because resource management is so innate to the structure of D&D and without resource management in some form you risk screwing over game balance. Taking one-hour rests between combats also feels detrimental to story momentum.

Well, there's a little lesser known RPG that once tried to address these things: Dungeons & Dragons, 4th edition.

Now, I'm going to be frank, D&D 4e didn't succeed at all it set out to do with these rules, but it at least tried. First of all, short rests in 4e last only ten minutes, which is much less of a chunk of the day than the hour proposed in 5e. Secondly, and this is the big one, 4e experimented with something called a Milestone. This is not the milestone from milestone leveling in 5e, but a special reward for every two encounters completed without a long rest in between.

The reward for a milestone is simple: an action point and an extra use of a magic item's daily power.

Action points are a very powerful tool in 4e because they can be used to literally gain an extra action. However, the sad truth is that even with all these benefits for completing multiple encounters back to back, the benefits of taking a long rest ultimately still outweigh the benefits of an action point and an extra use of a magic item's daily power. Especially since you couldn't use more than 1 action point per encounter, meaning that you were already not encouraged to hoard them any way.

But there is still something there: a mechanic that encourages players to dive headfirst into danger. The mechanical reward for going on without a rest should outweigh the benefits of a rest until narrative tension has been resolved. I feel looking at QuestWorlds in addition to 4e might not be a bad idea here.

Honorable mentions that I am not going to talk about in depth here:

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay. Despite its reputation for lethality WFRP is actually less lethal at starting levels than most editions of D&D simply due to Fate points, a resource that is gained at character creation and that can be used to save a character from death and permanent injury. They are permanently expended but can be gained through divine intervention or for especially brave or heroic actions.

Break!! This action adventure RPG inspired by old video games is very much a D&D in its structure, being very much a challenge-based adventure game, but where it deviates from D&D is how it handles injury. At 0 hearts characters don't immediately die, but instead roll on an injury table. The number of times you have already been injured weighs the odds towards death, but the first time you fall to 0 hearts you simply won't die due to how the rolls are interpreted.

Fate family of games. Fate has both rules that model story convention above simulation as well as a conflict system that does not result in death as the only result from combat. Fate's rules are available for free so there is nothing stopping you from reading it. Not all of it is adaptable to D&D of course, but even beyond specific rules applications Fate has a lot to teach about different philosophies to running games. I highly recommend it to everyone regardless of what games you're running, just to broaden your perspective.

I am not sure if there's going to be a part six because I'm not sure how much more use people are going to get out of "hey, consider playing these games instead." As said, all of the games mentioned above are already soft recommendations from yours truly, but as a general rule you have nothing to lose from broadening your horizons and reading more games, even if you feel D&D is perfect for you as is.

#long post #the big damn post

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emilykaldwen · 3 months

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I'm seeing this discourse re: people going on hiatus/leaving their blogs and I'm just like yo that's not the actual problem

At the end of the day, fandom is never owned by a select group of people, or a specific trend (flashbacks to Cassandra Claire holding court at the harry potter cons back in the day and on LJ specifically). Tumblr, for what it is worth, is not the center of the fandom universe. And it can be very, very lonely when you don't write the 'popular thing' in your fandom sphere, or are on the popular team. I know my team black friends feel pretty damn lonely here a lot of times.

There's fear. There's jealousy. People are, of course, human and these are all normal and valid emotions. What's not okay is going into people's inboxes on anon and getting weird about it, or hate reading people's fic and making a joke/game out of it. Just stick in your lane. You don't have to be friends with everyone - it is, in fact, impossible to have an actual friendship with 100 people, let alone 20 people. But also we are a community, and we all need to do our part. You don't have to reblog everything. You aren't a hub for that content.

But reblogging what you do like? That should be a no brainer. Likes are nice, but on tumblr, they don't do anything. Just reblog the stuff you like. Also try give things a chance. Reblog things you think someone else might like. For example, I don't really care about Daemon, but my bestie does, so when I see things I think she'll like, I do try to reblog them! (like the Daemon and Laena cut scene that just released).

Our blogs aren't just for us, they are also about the people we care about too. At least, that's the tumblr world I grew up in, where people reblog things and tag our friends in it going 'HEY! relevant to your interests!'

Think of tumblr as going through the biggest thrift store you've ever seen and you find this... IDK cat statue with bat wings and you don't care about it but you yell to your friend in the next aisle about it so they can see it. You hold it up like simba to show!

Also, what the fuck, don't bug people about not reblogging your stuff or walking into their DMs to ask them to reblog things that's weird don't do that.

tl;dr, it's not even about reblogging everything, it's actually about just... reblogging stuff you like and this whole thing, imo, isn't about burn out, it's about the weird gatekeeping stuff I see happening to people. Pockets of people in fandom have made it an overall unwelcoming place and make people feel like they need to become content farms/write only specific things instead of extending their creative legs to write what they are truly excited about.

#this is not calling anyone out #or pointing fingers at anyone #y'all I live on the edge of fandom and passively talk to a lot of nice people #but I have my own group of people I stick with #this is simply what I have seen crossing my dash or hearing through the grapevine #I don't know half the people in fandom/their real names #I'm not active in servers and have in fact left some #I have a full time job and talk to three or four people regularly #I'm jut here sampling the wares

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meraki-yao · 8 months

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RWRB Deleted Scenes: The Extend Paris Café Scene

The current café scene works in the movie, and damn it’s cute (I can never listen to “He is” without laughing) but as a scene, it has significantly less of a feeling of conclusion compared to other scenes. It works as it is, but it can also easily continue

Again we have no idea about this scene and we wouldn’t even know that there’s more if it weren’t for Matthew posting this photo

Observation and comparison: in the scene in the movie, they just have two cups of coffee on their table; in the photo, they have glasses of I think red wine (which, by the way, is in the book) and they each have a meal. Henry/Nick’s shaking hands with an older lady who looks like the cook, but in the photo they’re clearly discussing the scene and not in character: Nick’s looking at Matthew. So this is strictly a behind the scene photo unlike a “shooting” photo, such as the kissing tree photo Matthew posted, where the boys were kissing so they were clearly shooting already

This was apparently their first day of shooting and I want to scream at how amazing their chemistry is

Then there’s this photo that I presume they took just after shooting outside of the café

According to Matthew, the red mark on the corner of Henry/Nick’s forehead is not a bruise but a lipstick mark

Taylor/Alex is probably not wearing lipstick or at least not this shade of red, and given the point in their relationship it also doesn’t make sense for Alex to leave a mark somewhere so visible and for Henry to allow it

I read this speculation/theory on Weibo (yes I check the fandom over there out occasionally, no I don’t have the link, the Weibo system is complicated and I can’t be bothered to learn it) where they suspected that the old lady recognized Henry and kissed him on the forehead as a sign of respect or adoration or something, which might echo Henry talking about everyone recognizing him in the next scene

I didn’t really agree because, what the hell, straight-up kissing the prince like that has got to be against either etiquette or protocols, but then a few days later I saw a video of the actual Prince William visiting a café during one of his projects, and an ex-football star who was there and greeted him and kissed him on the cheek, so… eh I guess that question’s out of the way

I also questioned why would a cook in Paris show such affection to Henry, the prince of the UK, but then I think this could be explained by Henry’s popularity in universe. He is after all, “the Prince of England’s Hearts”, which isn’t something explored in the book: in the movie, Henry isn’t only a prince, he’s also a popular public figure in general. This point was not established in the book. So maybe it’s that.

But also, it’s possible that Henry knows this café and the owner, and they’re familiar, hence the affection? That would go against the point of “strangers knowing his name” but social logic wise seems to make more sense

Where is Alex in all of this? Obviously, he’s still there, sitting opposite Henry, but in the photo Taylor’s facing away from the camera and just looking at his dish so there’s nothing we can get from that. Is he just watching all of this unfold?

Where does this scene end? I’m guessing, and this is just me guessing with barely any evidence to support myself: their dishes are served -> whatever happens with the cook -> maybe Alex and Henry talk about what just happened –> they start eating -> cut to walk in the garden

This is all speculation, we literally have no context for the scene and everything I’ve just written is quite possible over-analysing tiny clues, but we won’t know anything until PRIME RELEASES THE DAMN FULL PARIS SCENE

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #firstprince #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry hanover stuart fox #alex claremont diaz #rwrb thoughts #rwrb deleted scenes #rwrb paris #i need the entire paris scene #so much was cut #how long was it was supposed to be????#and yes I'm writing the other one about Paris that I said I would write about #my rwrb list #matthew michael lopez

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valeriefauxnom · 2 months

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Dev's (C)Leo Biases,

Or,

A Comprehensive History of How Leonidas Became Nearly Everyone's Object of Thirst

So, among the Dragalia Lost team, it was rather well known that they admitted to a strong Cleo bias.

It's pretty easy to see, in anything from Cleo's early spate of alts, like Dragonyule and Summer in quick succession, to the utterly random unique outfits they flaunted in ch.9 that you can just tell they drew for funsies but really liked them and wanted to put them in the game despite it serving no real purpose...

The dev team just really, really loved Cleo and drawing her. But after they apparently used up their Cleo allowance to make Gala Cleo probably the single strongest character in the game at the time, they cooled it down a bit.

However, as much as they were apparently thirsting over Cleo, I would joke that somewhere along the way, some part of the dev team, feeling desperate now that the yearly Cleo Allowance was running dry as they prepared to release Gala Cleo, decided to find a new fixation to quench their addiction.

And since Cleo was off-limits, they turned to the next best thing: crossing out the C in Cleo to find their newest substitute Dev Thirst character.

That's right, we're talking about the one and only Leonidas.

Leonidas had kinda just melded into the background with the rest of the siblings at this point to my observations. Sure, he was a campaign antagonist. People weren't particularly clamoring for him in particular over the other siblings, though. Honestly, I'd wager Emile was more popular at this stage, even in a 'love to hate' sense, just because we'd already seen him so much.

But then, it started. Whether it was art like this being posted on their twitter just a few scant months before G!Cleo's debut...

...They just seemed to have a certain edge in artworks featuring Mr. Curry in a way to make one squint and tilt your head sideways.

For instance:

It's one of those cases where you just kinda get a feeling the artist(s) found x attractive in a way that simultaneously still can give you a moment of self-doubt if that's not just you projecting because there's no blatantly obvious signs, you know? Whether it's something about the posing, or angles, whatever it is, I got this air increasingly whenever they put out any Leonidas art.

Thankfully, they decided to put me out of my misery and just flat out make what's likely the single most suggestive wyrmprint (or honestly art piece in general since Dragalia was thankfully very very very tame) starring none other than, you guessed it, Leonidas.

(Secret Cygames/Nintendo conversation, probably: "As you can see, it's vitally important that we draw this character in a speedo with sparkles around him." Nintendo: "...I'll allow it. This time.")

Even if he puts on some more clothes in the refined version, we're still back to that air I mentioned, as the shot focuses almost entirely on him instead of the wildly popular Chelle or his pet panther (which, yes, seemed to be an actual pet of his):

Even the Ilia-damned funny chibi comics got in on this thirst train as it went on and made quite possibly the raunchiest joke in the entire 400+ comic run featuring Leonidas, even if the exact same joke didn't make the translation overseas, however they tried. You can see a brief breakdown of that in THIS post.

Not content to restrict it to art and comics, Leonidas also dropped this line that is permanently engraved into my mind with just how shocking it was to see anything of this caliber in Dragalia, in his baby brother's story to boot!

At this point, I could no longer deny it: the devs and artists had collectively acquired a new fixation to satiate their once insatiable Cleo appetite in the form of Mr. Currymeister. (Don't worry about Emile there, he's just drowning, he does that all the time in waist-high water)

And this attitude even extends to in-universe, too! People increasingly fawned over the first prince, who very much was filling in the role of 'this prince you know vs. his hotter and more competent elder brother', as virtually represented by my expert skills in Microsoft Paint artistry as such:

Naturally, there was only so much time before the people IRL could succumb to Leonidas Fever (and no, this time we're not talking about all the people who were so devoted to this dude to effectively set themselves into a fatal, firey, steroid-filled death!) at this unrelenting onslaught.

It was hard not to see comments such as these that started pouring in (and yes, all of these were just about Leonidas exclusively):

(I'll attribute the misspelling to being overcome with Leonidas Fever, a grave illness indeed!)

(Another serious symptom: the decline of any self-preservation instinct around Leonidas, who is indeed Very Dangerous and Will Kill You!)

Ahem. You get the picture. Thus concludes the slow, insidious buildup from just another sibling for Euden to probably commit a whoopsie-daisy fratricide in the future to one of the fandom's favorite menaces, all carefully plotted-out by the collective efforts of devs who were the first to succumb to the sickness...Right?

This concludes my professional historical report on this very serious issue that I suspect lingers to this day. The Fever has but been put into remission; it has not faded yet.

Extra:

So a long time ago I commented that some of the royal family seemed to have pointier teeth than normal, which I speculated because they deliberated giving a bit more 'draconic' traits to define dragonblood, and I didn't realize how pervasive this was until I saw Emile's model there. Look at his fang!

...

...How did I forget the weapon skin of Leo's gun is additionally named "Royal Dominator"?

#The royal family truly robbed the bank with their genetics. Magic powers. Sharp-looking as a whole...and they have been for 300 years+!#dragalia lost #dragalia #leonidas #He's strong. He's handsome. He's a fantastic chef. He's had cat ears put on him in a comic.#the People were to put it bluntly Screwed or so I would reckon in my comprehensive study of #'why the heck are you guys thirsting over xyz character NOW?'#...Also a very formal scientific field.#I'm additionally glad in the end that Leo bore the brunt of this #Since at least he's likely 25+. A disappointingly high amount of media can't even manage that!

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onceazzie · 9 months

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so i found a spunky au generator (find it here!) that gave me a slay idea. so, here's some pearleo for yall tumblr folks <3

"For someone who's standing face to face with a gorgon, and is about ten seconds away from being turned to stone and thrown off a cliff, you seem awfully calm," Cleo says, crossing their arms.

The newcomer-- who had introduced herself as Pearl, Pearlescent Moon-- simply shrugs, the movement lifting the large, bluish-purple wings folded across her back. "Well, I'm wearing sunglasses. You can't freeze someone with glasses, can ya?"

"That...is some sort of logic, but it doesn't really work like that."

"Why not?" Pearl smiles. "You can't see my eyes. Neither can the snakes. Problem solved, hm?"

The orange snakes that made up Cleo's hair hissed, not in malice but more in confusion. "Well, even if that were true, I'd easily be able to take your glasses and then freeze you. So make your choice."

"Ouch," Pearl mutters, shifting the bag hanging off of her shoulder before sighing and reaching for her sunglasses. "Fine! Freeze me then. You're mean."

And time seems to stop for a moment, as the woman pulls the sunglasses off her face and shields her face from the sun, before staring right into Cleo's eyes. And usually this would kill her instantly, and she would turn into one of the statues currently lining the edges of the mountaintop, but it didn't, because--

"Heh. Surprise! I am unfreezable!" Pearl grins, spreading her arms and wings, the action toppling one of Cleo's statues over the edge of the cliff. "Oh. Sorry about that."

Except Cleo can't find it in herself to care, not when this-- this being, who surely wasn't human or god or anything in between, was staring at her with what looked like an entire void hiding in the places where her eyes should've been. Stars sparkled within them, glowing and glittering, a whole universe contained within one person.

"Is it the eyes? Damn it, that's why I bring the sunglasses," Pearl huffs, wings curling around her body, a pout growing on her lips, reminiscent of a small, scolded child.

"Who...who even are you?" Cleo finally manages to say, head tilting slightly as Pearl fiddles with her sunglasses. "What are you?"

"Good question. I dunno, I was kinda born like this." Pearl shrugs. "My brother, my twin brother-- he was born as a normal kid, I guess. And then whoops! Weird void baby came right afterwards. It was pretty crazy."

The pieces were starting to fall together, Cleo realises. The bag slung over Pearl's shoulder, the sunglasses.

"They've sent you away, haven't they?" Pearl's shoulders sink as the words leave the gorgon's mouth, only solidifying their assumption. "You've been exiled...like me."

"It's fitting they'd send me here, hmm? Send me to another outcast." Pearl manages a small smile. "But, yeah. That's basically it."

Obviously, the subject what somewhat upsetting for her, so Cleo did what Cleo does.

"Oh, who would've known that the people don't appreciate an eldritch being with stars instead of eyes walking around their neighbourhood?"

Sarcasm.

But, also--

"Well. I know," Cleo says, holding out a hand. "Turns out people also don't appreciate a kid with snakes for hair freezing all the other kids to stone. So, you're safe with me."

Pearl's expression turns from sad to overjoyed in what seems to be a millisecond. "Wait, really?! Can I stay here with you?"

"I mean, if you don't take up too much roo-- hey, what are you doing? Off!"

Pearl didn't seem to hear and only squeezed Cleo harder, arms around her waist, wings covering them both. "Thank you thank you thank you! You're the best gorgon I've ever met!"

"You've met others?"

"No, but I bet you would still be the best if I ever were to meet any others!"

Cleo grunts in acknowledgement, and Pearl quickly lets go of her waist, jumping back with her wings extended, a huge beam on her face.

"I like the flowers in your hair, by the way," she says after a moment, eyes curving into a crescent smile, the stars inside them brightening. "They're really pretty. What kind are they?"

"Oh. Uh, probably...sunflowers, orchids, tulips...that kind of stuff," Cleo mumbles. "I don't really choose what grows there? They kind of just come out of my skull when they feel like it?"

The eldritch being leans in for a closer look, her form looming over Cleo's. It's...slightly intimidating. "That's so cool! I'm really excited about staying with you! We're going to be best friends!"

"No, we're not."

"We are now!"

bonus:

"Hey, Cleo! So I noticed your comfy little cave only has one bed. Mind if we share?"

The thought of sharing a bed with an actual eldritch being, not to mention one with wings that spanned the entirety of Cleo's cave, was much less than appealing to them. Except Pearl was looking at them (or-- at least perceiving them) with a hopeful beam on her face, and suddenly every rational thought left their brain as they sighed loudly. "If you even try to touch me with your wings, I will find some way to turn you to stone and throw you off this mountain."

"Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll hug you to sleep!"

"Don't you dare."

hehe hiii, it's me, azzie again! thanks for sticking around <3 if you have any requests or anything feel free to pop em into ye olde ask box! i'm happy to write for you. if it's for the life series, anyway

#azzie writes!#this was kinda fun ngl #pearlescentmoon #zombiecleo #trafficblr #life series #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #pearleo #moonrot #i might turn this to an au. i probably will turn this into an au

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beyond-a-name · 9 months

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So I keep seeing that post about critiques of superhero narratives going around, and while it sounds really good, something about it rubs me the wrong way.

The best thing to do with power is to give it away. That is not what superheroes do.

They use their power to help people, but it's never a redistribution of power. Even in settings where power can explicitly be granted to basically anybody, it is kept with a select few because that is integral to what makes it a superhero story.

Take Spiderverse for example, maybe my favourite ongoing franchise. In the Spiderverse, it is explicit that the powers of spiderman can be granted through a uniquely irradiated spider. There is an entire organization wholly devoted to connecting with other spider people across dimensions, but the story, even in the comics, never explores what would happen by putting all that funding and research into replicating those spiders.

Now, a big theme of every Spiderman retelling, and indeed almost every Superhero narrative, is what those characters lose to keep their city, their world, and their (remaining) loved ones safe. These superhuman characters go through exceptional sacrifice and loss because they have power, a kind of noble suffering, all for the good of those around them. This makes for a very compelling story, but that eternal martyrdom is also how abuse gets justified. If power is some noble burden, then it is both justified to give power to as few people as possible (to prevent suffering) while also to venerate those that have it (for their sacrifice and kindness).

This same justification, of course, extends to how real world government systems are justified. Really, it's quite tragic that our leader president king leviathan superhero has all that agency, they have to make all the "hard choices". Look at how strong they are for doing that, for taking care of everybody, even when people don't know what's best for them. And of course they don't, not always, because only the people with power have the ability to know. With great power comes great responsibility, after all, but it is the with-holding of responsibility that is precisely the problem.

This is the core of the power fantasy that superhero media presents. That you, dear reader, can be that hero. That you get to help people and be universally loved for it, and that all of your suffering is noble and justified. That even if your suffering is due in large part to the fact that you shoulder this burden alone and do not (or cannot) ask for help and thereby extend agency to those around you, you are right to do so. That even if you won't be outright revered, you will still be able to rest easy that it was you that made The Hard Choice instead of someone else, and that you're Keeping People Safe.

So let's go back to Spiderverse. As it stands, even though I think it could go farther, it's obviously (at least partially) a deconstruction of the superhero genre. Whereas Into The Spiderverse shows its greatest thematic strength in the power of community in the face of tragedy, Across the Spiderverse goes a step further to start asking why we have to keep making all these damn tragic decisions in the first place. Into the Spiderverse assures you that you're not the only one making hard choices, actually, and shows how nice that actually is. But Across the Spiderverse asks why anyone has to suffer in the first place. Across the Spiderverse resonates so strongly because it takes a look at the trolley problem and does what everyone who sees the trolley problem reflexively does, which is to start asking who tied all these people to the tracks and why do we take people dying by trolleys to be such a given? The film, in actively questioning the implicit assumption of tragedy and "noble sacrifice" is directly undermining part of the core superhero power fantasy. Whereas abuse and oppression are preserved in maintaining systems of power as necessary hardship and noble suffering, change is pioneered in questioning those power structures and recognizing that suffering is not a virtue. If suffering isn't a virtue, how noble are these sacrifices, anyway?

While I'm deeply excited to see the next Spiderverse film the moment it releases, like I stated earlier, the series doesn't go as far as it could. While it partially recognizes that the distribution of power is entirely arbitrary (who gets bit by that spider is effectively random), it doesn't ask why we aren't then redistributing it. Spiderverse, at least thus far, does not fully embrace actually giving that power away.

And it is here, dear reader, that I present to you a book recommendation. If what you've read here resonates with you and you're curious to see a work take that final step, then I'd like to direct your curiousity to the Nemesis series by April Daniels.

The (currently unfinished) trilogy begins with Dreadnought, in which Danny, a young, closeted trans girl, watches the world's greatest superhero die in front of her, before inheriting his powers. But with Dreadnought's abilities, Danny also gets her ideal feminine body, rendering it impossible for her to remain closeted any longer. While the book is obviously a trans narrative first and foremost, and a profoundly impactful one at that, the book also criticizes the centralization of power and touches on how deeply traumatizing all that "noble suffering" really is. The other superheroes are deeply traumatized and living in a state of constant vigilance, and everyone is of course bickering over who gets to benefit from Danny's powers and to what end. All the while, mind you, while telling a transfeminine narrative so archetypal that I could directly match it to my own lived experience, one for one: transphobia, homelessness, even her friend's perceived entitlement to her newly feminine body.

The second book, Sovereign, much more directly confronts the authoritarian fantasy at the heart of the genre (while also keeping it delightfully queer). In Sovereign, it is eventually revealed what is increasing the number of all these super- people, and casts its titular villain as a grossly rich man who seeks to keep that power as selectively distributed as possible. Not only does the book have Danny explore what heroism looks like outside of the corrupt, state-sponsored "White Cape" framework, but Danny also consistently reflects on just what it is she is actually getting out of all this violence.

Book 2 concludes with the forward expectation to redistribute this power much more freely, but book 3 isn't yet out to follow up on it. I personally suspect that this is largely due to the core challenge of redistributing power in a genre where the centralization of power is so integral to its telling. (I mean, it's not like anything else of note since 2017 could have had any sort of impact on the writing and publishing of a queer novel). Still, the series even thus far does a much better job of deconstructing the power fantasy and martyrdom that superhero media relies on than many mainline works before it, and its two finished books already stand on their own beautifully. Also it's trans, which rules. (It's one of my all-time favourite series, if you couldn't tell).

Anyway, you started this post expecting a thorough response of a specific rebuttal of leftist critique of superhero media. Namely, that rebuttal argues that superhero media, at its core, is about helping people. This is partially true, but it is almost never about empowering people to help themselves, which is precisely the problem.

I agree, the best thing to do with power is to give it away. Really be nice if it did that lol

#long post #superhero media #superhero stories #dreadnought by april daniels #april daniels #spiderverse

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 9 months

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tuesday again 9/12/2023

this series not sponsored by murphy's wood oil soap but boy do i wish it was

listening

this song popped up as the first video when i opened accursed tiktok to figure out what the deal was with that german engineer lady digging a storm shelter in her basement. this is the specific recording i want but the second video with a slightly longer intro... u have got to see Abel Selaocoe in motion performing Ka Bohaleng/On The Sharp Side.

youtube

i feel like every time i see a video of a cellist they're doing some absolutely bonkers shit and producing sounds i did not know a stringed instrument could make

reading

i am constantly chasing the very high highs of raymond chandler's philip marlowe detective noirs. Human Target, a DC extended universe thing by Tom King and Greg Smallwood got real damn fuckin close.

i took thirty-five screenshots while reading these twelve issues. they are such a lush love letter to midcentury advertising. it luxuriates in period-typical stylized coloring in a way i do not see very often. i hope mr smallwood gets sucked silly every night.

one of the reasons for the tuesdayposts is to force myself to look at new things, bc sometimes i find shit i really like. i am remarkably unwilling to consume new things when i am not feeling good, even though new things i like are…not a keystone, but really up there holding together some arch in the viaduct of mental health or whatever.

anyway Christoper Chance is a man with a very specific skillset: perfectly imitating wealthy clients to lure out assassins. he takes a fatal does of poison meant for Lex Luthor and has about twelve days to solve his own murder before he dies. this is an EXTREMELY compelling reason for someone to haul ass through an entire noir novel in less than two weeks.

let's make some comparisons to other spy media i've seen in the last month. christopher reminded me a bit of loid forger from spy x family: same hypercompetent backup plans for backup plans and incredible disguise skills. im sort of...positively? fascinated by him, as opposed to the (also entertaining) train wreck of james bond's psyche slamming up against soft targets for two to two and a half hours. like there is womanizing in Human Target, but it is not the time-filling bond girl eye candy. do not worry, christopher FUCKS.

it is self contained within its twelve issues so i didn't have to read eighteen other crossovers and have encyclopedic knowledge of c- and d-listers from the silver age of comics. it was a very fair mystery. the twists and turns weren’t stupid. i know that’s not a terribly helpful observation but sometimes in a mystery…it takes a fucking stupid turn. most importantly imo it sticks its landing and understands that a noir is a subgenre of tragedy.

how’d i find it: has a pretty cover, stood out from the crowd on hoopla. americans, you probably have access to hoopla through your library!

watching

@andmaybegayer referenced the youtube channel About To Eat in a recent mondaypost and i was so enthralled by this man's confident, dulcet, soothing and mustachioed tones. i had forgotten that i could in theory make french onion soup like myself. at home. soup season will not begin here for many months here and even then it's kind of pushing it, but i would like to eat some soup without melting!!!

overall About To Eat's recipes are a bit beyond my skill level and ability to prepare things in one sitting without joint pain but they are a display of competence i find very fun to watch.

youtube

playing

ive rationed all my picture slots for other slots but i did finally obtain two of the country-specific fishing rods in genshin impact. they were extremely irritating to obtain but i trust you'll understand i'm quite pleased with myself.

making

unphotographable things:

reactivating the dried sourdough starter from the horrible woods apartment of 2021, unforch rn it does look like when my cat regurgitates her kibble

sprayed the new couch down with some rather nasty insectide just in casies, it is still degassing in my office with the fan at helicopter speed and the balcony door open and towels shoved under the inside door for another 24h, also made plans to dye a big canvas dropcloth and strategically pin it in place for a cheapo slipcover

coffee table specific unphotographable things:

finally finished cleaning all seven

had to violently strangle the urge to repaint certain inner sections and made peace with touching up the worst of it with an oil-based paint pen bc let's be real nobody is going to look closely at that but me

pried some corrosion off one of the little brass decorative thingies, now it looks bad in a slightly different way

photographable things:

now this is a fun little record cabinet. i haven’t seen many pieces out in the wild that have that sort of vertical bullnose detail. makes me think of thirties waterfall dressers with their molded plywood rounded upper edges.

i can’t decide if the veneer on this piece is starting to really go (it is heavily crackled esp on the sides) or it was once owned by a smoker. the photo below is of the THIRD round of cleaning this front panel after upping the cleaning mix to a HEARTY 2:1 water/soap, and this was not the worst panel on the piece. mostly it really just smells like old wood? i don’t THINK the innards are cedar, bc that would be an odd choice for a record cabinet, but it is an oddly fragrant base wood.

there are some details that make me think it was never a terribly high end piece, or was maybe repurposed into a record cabinet? the veneer is quartered but somewhat indifferently matched, it has very indifferent nailhead finishing, and im not sure if the casters and record slots were later additions. i think the little door catches are original, but they aren’t magnetic yet which starts ruling out some later mcm. i would hazard this was made right before or right after wwii, but realistically it could be early thirties-early sixties. no makers marks :(

i will refinish this eventually. a bit nervous about how the front bullnoses might come out, i don’t really want to fuck around with veneer repair or like. grain painting. that’s for insane ppl and antiques dealers and i am clearly neither