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#ava rly is just a silly little guy but honestly i get it
possibilistfanfiction · 4 months
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I love your butch!Bea AU, so maybe something where Ava is just a silly little guy and Bea is just so done with Avas tomfoolery
‘do you have to be so…’
you grin. ’so what, bea?’
‘it’s just not going to work,’ she says, utterly worn down. it’s fun, though, to be honest, making her huff and roll her eyes and laugh at your antics with no stakes involved.
‘well, how do you know?’
you watch with a fair amount of delight when she goes through, quite passionately, a list of everything known about the halo and its healing capabilities, its protective nature over you and the ones you care for. she’s in a soft, big hoodie and blue socks that are wearing out at the heels — her favorites, so she’s reluctant to part with them, you think — curled up on the edge of the comfortable couch in your living room, a pillow in her lap. she’d gone to the barber yesterday, as she does every three weeks like clockwork now, and her fade is as neat as you’ve ever seen it, the short top, an inch long, perfect for you to run your fingers through, as far as you’re concerned, messy from sleep. her glasses are a little smudged and she’s languishing with her cup of coffee so, even though she could kill a man in less than a second and has been into triathlons (terrible) lately — you are not intimidated or deterred by her in the slightest.
there’s a whoosh of sulfur and then mary and lilith are popping into your house, effectively stopping beatrice’s laundry list of reasons your plan will never work.
‘what’s he trying to do now?’ mary says, headed to the kitchen while lilith settles into her favorite reading chair, seemingly disengaged but you know she’s listening.
beatrice looks pointedly at you. 
‘i’m feeling like doing something impulsive,’ you announce.
‘you? impulsive?’ lilith scoffs — a point for you, though, because she was paying attention. ‘who would’ve thought?’
‘whatever,’ you say, no bite in it. ‘i thought it would be fun to get a piercing, but beatrice is claiming i can’t.’
‘you want to pierce your —‘
she turns red without even saying it. ‘nipples,’ you finish for her, a grin on your face.
‘never mind,’ mary says, walking over to lilith with two cups of coffee. ‘i can’t listen to this. beatrice, text me,’ and then they’re gone.
‘did they just abscond with our mugs?’ 
beatrice sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. ‘what’s this really about?’
‘uh, it would be hot, i think. obviously.’ you roll your eyes. ‘and, like, everyone normal can do all kinds of impulsive shit that i can’t. what if i just really wanted to, like, skydive? or get a face tattoo?’
‘ava,’ she says, undeterred and a little weary. ‘what’s wrong?’
you swallow, the question hitting you square in the chest in a way you didn’t expect. it’s something, to be so seen and understood by someone. ‘nothing is wrong, really, i guess. i don’t know.’ 
she reaches for your hand and you sit next to her, lace your fingers together.
‘i just — with everything going on with my back, i guess i just feel, like…’ 
‘a loss of control?’ she asks, patiently after you’d been quiet for a while. 
you feel yourself let out an honest-to-god whine before you can stop it.
she smiles, a little sad and a little determined — she’s been waiting for this, you’re pretty sure, which is equal parts sweet and annoying. ‘i have an idea that i think might work better than nipple piercings to help you feel better. we can leave tonight even, if you want.’
you perk up and her smile blooms even further. ‘while i do definitely want to hear your idea of impulsivity, i just also need you to know that nipple piercings would be hot.’
she really does consider it. ‘perhaps,’ she offers.
‘i’ll take that as a yes,’ you say. ‘tell me about your idea.’
she sits up a little straighter and explains, hesitant enough at first to gauge your reaction, that she’s been researching adaptive ski and snowboarding programs. 
‘the alps?’ you ask, immediately a little teary.
‘if you’d like.’ she picks at her nail for a moment. ‘i’ve found ones closer to here as well, so wherever you’d like to go, we can go. just say the word.’
‘you really mean that?’
‘of course i do,’ she says, so sure, so steadfast. ‘and, plus, you know i’ll enjoy myself too.’
‘ah, yes, with your double black diamonds. insane.’
‘well, and the aprés ski with you.’
you grin and kiss her cheek. ‘as long as you promise to dance with me.’
‘i’ll do anything you want to make you happy, ava,’ she says, and it hits you in the chest that she means it. she means it, even though you’re mostly full of nonsense half the time, and you like to play pranks on her, and sometimes you get stoned and pester her to watch grace and frankie with you even though she’d been trying to read. she loves you through it all, the worst days, and you love her the same: when her hands shake; when she’s frustrated; when she worries so much about decisions she’s immobilized; when she’s too strict, even now. partnership, you’ve realized, is a practice.
‘switzerland, then?’
she smiles and kisses you. ‘i’ll book everything now.’
‘you have a spreadsheet, don’t you?’
‘of course,’ she says, as if there couldn’t be any other option. you laugh and she pulls it up on her laptop — there really are tabs on the sheet for at least six different programs that vary geographically and by difficulty level, and she’s also mapped out places to stay and restaurants you might enjoy, as well as other local attractions. 
‘this is so extra,’ you tell her, your voice a little shaky and the glance out the side of her eyes telling you, without words, she’s onto you. but it doesn’t matter: she gets everything all set up for tomorrow morning, and it’s there: love greater than this world, laid out in confirmation emails and conditionally formatted columns. ‘maybe we can visit jillian after,’ you say, the alternative being bursting into tears.
beatrice hums, never opposed to the idea of a trip to spain.
‘she could figure out how to pierce my nipples,’ you say, and beatrice groans. it’s the little victories.
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