#Brie would care because we’ve been together a while but she can move on and do better than me

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[honeypiehotchner]

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

[itsallyscorner]

💌 Requested by: @real-kate-bishop-aka-hawkeye

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader ft Marvel Cast

Request: Age gap! Reader is in a relationship with Sebastian Stan and they’re in a movie together that has been nominated for the Oscars. Both of them are up for best actor and actress.

a/n: I hope you like this, I’m so sorry for the long wait, love! Enjoy!💖

Double Win

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m a bit nervous. But I’m excited to be here. It’s gonna be a good night.” You reply with a smile as Sebastian squeezed your hand. The two of you were currently in the car on your way to the venue that hosted the Oscars.

“Hey, whatever happens tonight, whether we win or loose, I’m proud of you.” Sebastian says as he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to it.

You and Sebastian were both nominated for your first Oscars ever. The movie you guys both starred in has been successful in the box office and has snagged multiple nominations during awards season.

You first met Sebastian during a table read for a disclosed Marvel project. You were a new actress in the business having been in small movies and had some parts in tv shows, but being casted as Kate Bishop was your big break (I know she’s like 16 in the comics, but for the sake of this request let’s just assume the actress casted is in her 20s). You and Seb instantly clicked at the table reading. From there on a beautiful friendship formed which slowly grew into a relationship. Despite the age gap, everything you guys did together felt natural. Natural in a sense where it was familiar, as if you guys have known each other for years. When you were with him everything fell into place.

“I’m so happy that you’re finally getting recognition for your work. You work your ass off on these movies, you deserve it so much.” You admitted as he strokes your hand with his thumb. Sebastian tilts his head at you with that crooked smile on his face.

“After all, you were robbed for I, Tonya.” You added as you nudged his shoulder with yours. His smile breaks as he laughs.

“Are you still mad about that?”

“YES! Oh my god, it irritates me so much. Like how did you not get nominated for I, Tonya? You were amazing as Jeff!” You exclaimed waving your free hand in frustration.

“Well that doesn’t matter anymore. Because now, I’m nominated for a movie I starred in alongside my girl. To me, that’s all that matters.” He said as he leaned in closer to you. You hum contently as he nudges your nose with his. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful to not get any of that sinful red lipstick on his lips.

The moment was interrupted by the driver announcing that you have arrived at the venue. Before leaving the car you quickly fix your hair and make sure Sebastian didn’t have any lipstick on his lips. Sebastian buttoned up his suit and looked back at you before opening the door.

“You look beautiful, by the way. I just wanted to tell you before everyone starts shouting it at you.” He tells you with a boyish grin on his face. You playfully roll your eyes and thank him. He opens the door and you guys are met with the flashing lights and chaos of the red carpet.

🕓 Time Skip

Half an hour into the awards show and they’ve announced the awards for Best Supporting Actor and Actress. Your nerves were getting the best of you, making your leg bounce in anticipation. You tried having a few glasses of wine to help you loosen up, but it was no use. Sebastian, who had been beside you the whole night, noticed your nervous tic. He placed a reassuring hand onto your leg to help calm you down. He didn’t say anything but his silent gesture was appreciated. His hand helped ground you and tell you that he was there for you.

Chris Evans and Brie Larson walked out from backstage and entered the stage. The audience clapped as they approached the mic.

“Hello everyone! Of all the movies that have been nominated for this category tonight, something that they all have in common is a female lead who is a force of nature and captures the attention of the audience with their strong presence on screen.” Brie starts.

“Here are the nominees for Best Actress.” Chris continues as they announce the names of the nominees. As your name is announced you feel your heart beat quicken and squeeze onto Sebastian’s hand, a smile hiding your anxiousness.

When they finish the names, Brie excitedly opens the envelope. She and Chris share are look before they announce the winner.

“And the Oscar goes to..”

“(Y/n) (Y/L/N)!!” They scream into the mic.

You freeze as you hear your name. Around you the people clap and stand as you remained seated in your seat in shock. Sebastian is the one to pull you out your state of shock, leaning down and gently pulling you up.

“Baby, you won!” He exclaimed as he pulls you into his arms. You come back to your senses and wrap your arms around him quickly pulling away. You make your way up to the stage as people congratulated you as you passed by the aisle. When you approached the stairs, you hold the train of your dress to avoid pulling a Jennifer Lawrence. Chris is quick to help, lending you a hand up the stage. He hugs you and congratulates you over the audience. Brie approaches you with open arms and hands you the Oscar. The two move to the side to give you your moment. You face the crowd with a big smile, Oscar in hand.

“Thank you guys.” You start as you glance at Brie and Chris. You look back to the crowd and quickly spot Sebastian, who has the most proudest look on his face.

“This is unbelievable, I can’t believe this is happening! I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a little kid.” You mused as you looked at the Oscar gleaming in the light.

“I guess I should start by thanking the Academy. Thank you for this opportunity. Thank you to the cast and crew who have been part of this movie’s journey I love every single one of you. Thanks to my team, who have been so kind and supportive to me from the start and have helped me get to this moment. To my family, I owe you all so much you have been so supportive of me and pushed me to follow my dreams and have been there every step of the way. Also, to the women who were nominated alongside of me tonight, you guys are amazing and continue to inspire me to become as talented as you all are. Lastly, I want to thank a special person. My co-star in this movie, my best friend, biggest supporter, my rock, my lover. Sebastian you have done nothing but been there for me through thick and thin. I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve someone as special as you, but I’m thankful that I have you. Without you I don’t know how I would survive in the madness of this, I love you.” You looked at Sebastian through blurred eyes as you made your speech.

“Thank you!” You finished as you excitedly held the Oscar up in the air. The usher instructed you to stand by the side as Brie and Chris walked to the mic.

“And now for Best Actor!” Chris says as they announce the nominees. When Sebastian’s name was called you clapped and cheered as he gave the camera a shy smile.

“And the Oscar goes to!”

“SEBASTIAN STAN!” They announce, Chris screaming it a bit louder than Brie. You gasp and clap as you see Sebastian being congratulated by your fellow co-stars and director. He makes his way up to the stage instantly looking for your eyes. A giant smile is on your face as your eyes connect. He’s hugged by Brie and Chris. Chris moves to hand him the award but Sebastian is already striding towards you. The audience laughs at Chris’ reaction. Meanwhile Sebastian brings his hand to cradle your face and pulls you into a passionate kiss. The crowd cheers and whistles as you wrap your free arm around him. For a moment it feels like it’s just you two in the whole venue. You pull away, lovingly smiling at each other.

“Go get that Oscar, champ.” You teased and nudge him towards Chris, who claps him on the back as soon he approaches him.

“Sorry, got caught in the moment.” He chuckled making the audience laugh.

“Man, I—. This is just an honor, thank you so much for this. I don’t know what I did to get here, but thank you so much. Thank you to the Academy. Thank you to the cast and crew who’ve worked hard day and night to make this amazing movie the way it is. My team, thank you for dealing with me, I appreciate it. I wanna say a very special thank you to two of the most important women in my life. My mother, who sacrificed so much to give me a better life, I’m up on this stage because of you. I love you and I’ll make sure to give you a call as soon as I’m home. I think you guys know who the other woman is.” He exclaims as he turns to you with a twinkle in his eyes, the crowd cheering him on.

“When I say this I’m being dead serious. I’m gonna marry that woman one day.” Sebastian points at you making the crowd go wild. You laugh, looking down as your face turns 50 shades of red.

“(Y/n), you keep me going everyday. You inspire me to better myself and become a better man. For the two years we’ve been together, you’ve been beside me through it all and I just want to thank you for everything you do. You’re my safe place, I love you.” He said while looking at you the entire time. He thanks everyone again before the music begins to play.

🕓 Time Skip

As the show came to an end everyone headed towards the after party. The cast and crew of your movie celebrated over champagne, some speeches, a little crying, and lots of hugs. The whole night Sebastian never left your side, his hand was either around your waist or the small of your back. Constantly whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pressed kisses to your face.

“Seb! (Y/n)!” You and Sebastian turned to the voice to see Chris pushing through the crowd along with Scarlett and Brie.

“Hey!” You greet them as you all pull each other into hugs.

“Congratulations you two! You must be on cloud nine!” Scarlett said as she squeezed you as tight as she can.

“The look on your face when you won, oh my goodness! Priceless!” Brie laughs as she held onto your arm.

“I honestly can’t believe it! It’s just so surreal like what the fuck? I’m still processing it!” You rambled, eyes wide with shock. The two laughed at your reaction.

“I’m guessing Seb is gonna be getting some as soon as you guys get home?” Scarlett teased. You rolled your eyes glancing at Seb who was talking to Chris and Samuel L. Jackson. He caught your eye and sent a quick wink towards you.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Scarlett.” You winked at the blonde. Your name is suddenly being called across the room by Chris.

“When’s the wedding?” He asked, a few feet away from you and the girls.

“As soon as he gets the ring!” You answer teasingly making Seb blush. Chris turns back to Sebastian pointing at you.

“You heard the lady, Seb.”

“Who says I don’t already have the ring?” Sebastian shot back making everyone sound like a bunch of teenagers.

When you guys got back home, you and Sebastian celebrated in the early hours of the morning between the sheets. When you wake up the next day you see a blue Tiffany’s box paired with a rose resting on Sebastian’s side of the bed.

And you said yes.

[hockeylvr59]

Life Changes Part 10 || Paul Bissonnette

Author's Note: So this one was tough for me because Paul’s head is a tough nut to crack so go easy on me. This is from his POV because I felt like we needed some insight as to where he stood in all of this because so far we’ve only see Leigh’s thoughts. Let me know what you think. We’re covering quite a bit of time fairly quickly now. In fact, there’s probably only 1 more chapter before the event everyone has been waiting for happens *hint hint*. Also, I updated the playlist for this story so feel free to go take a listen and let me know what you think and feel free to send me any songs that make you think of Leigh and Paul because I’d love to hear them. 

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no       Warnings: swearing      Word Count: 2,389

_________

Paul’s POV

“Only the wisest and stupidest of men never change.” 

Something had been different with Leigh since the awards but I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed or why. We still talked almost every day but where before she would be an open book, now it seemed like a glass wall was between us. Knowing that she would reach out if she needed me, I came to the conclusion that it was something to do with the pregnancy and tried not to dwell on it. 

Hopefully, this trip would make not dwelling a little easier. Thanks to some networking at the Awards and a little help from CCM, we’d finally landed our white whale for the podcast. And not only had we secured Crosby, but we’d also gotten MacKinnon as well. Having arrived in Nova Scotia yesterday, Whit and I were slotted to face off against the local duo in a round of golf, dinner on the line, before sitting down to record the interviews. 

It was a gorgeous June day on the course, and I was absolutely buzzing. This was potentially the best game of golf I’ve ever played in my life. But before we had even finished the front half of the course I was already being accused of being a sandbagger...fucking ridiculous. Nate was getting all sorts of worked up while Sid just laughed saying they’d have to wait and see what the back half brought. 

Needless to say, the second half didn’t go as well as the first...the damn yips taking over. Though we’d had the lead and secured dinner, for some reason Whit felt like giving the losers a second chance to redeem themselves so it was determined that we were only up 1 hole with two remaining. Whit came up just short for birdie leaving us square to start the 18th hole. 

Just as we reached the final tee, my phone rang, Leigh’s picture filling my screen. If it had been anyone else I would have ignored it but there was no way I could ignore her so I grabbed my phone and stepped slightly away as I answered. 

“What’s up?” I questioned. “We’re on the 18th hole with Sid and Nate.” Before she even responded I could hear the hitch in her breath and my heart raced with concern for why she would be crying, though lately, it didn’t take much to make her cry...pregnancy hormones. 

“I forgot.” She admitted, her watery voice cracking. 

“It’s fine. What’s up?” I repeated my question, my stomach twisting as I waited for her answer. 

“It’s a girl.” She whispered. Immediately my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.

“What?” The word slipped out while my brain was rushing to process. 

“Dustbunny...she’s a girl.” I had totally forgotten that Leigh had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for today. Without even realizing it, tears had pooled in my eyes and I let out a shaky laugh as I tried to blink them away. Deep down I knew that she was hoping for a girl and so I knew just how much this news meant to her. 

“That’s incredible.” I finally managed my throat tight. “Congratulations.” Though the concept of her really having a baby had become more concrete for me in Vegas seeing her bump, now it really did feel real. In just a few months there would be this little human who looked like her mom hanging around and the thought of that was almost too much. 

With Whit calling my name from the course, I signaled for him to give me just a minute but it was clear that Leigh heard it and she murmured that I should get back to the game. But before she hung up she made one final statement. 

“You can tell the guys if you want. And uh...let them know I’ll make a public announcement in the next couple days but to keep it to themselves until then please.” 

“Course.” I murmured, my brain still operating mostly on autopilot as it worked over the news she’d just dropped on me. “I uh...I’ll talk to you and dustbunny later.” 

“Yeah.” She agreed. “Now go have fun.” She added just before the line went dead. Frantically I tried to pull myself together, wiping at my eyes and pocketing my phone.

It was my turn up at the tee and as I tried to focus, laughter came at me from all directions. Whether it was the laughter or the thought of Leigh and her daughter racing through my mind, as I swung at the ball I sliced it way left and the laughter took full force. 

“Fuck off okay,” I mumbled, moving to sit on a bench, my nails scraping over my scalp. 

“What the fuck was that?” Whit demanded. “You take one phone call and make the worst shot of the day?” There was nothing but silence as we made our way down to the green and as we waited for Sid to putt Whit looked over at me. “Everything okay?” He asked, voice calmer. “I’m assuming that was Leigh.” 

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Everything’s good.” Whit looked at me skeptically before taking his turn and after sinking his putt for the win he paused. 

“Okay, Biz...spill.” He stated, leaning against his club. “You’ve been all hyped up all day and now you’re quiet. What was that call about?” 

“She’s having a girl.” I breathed, tossing my club back in the bag before reaching for a bottle of water to try and calm my still racing heart down. 

“Who’s having a girl?” Nate inquired, clearly confused by the statement. 

“Leigh. Our business manager.” Whit explained. “That’s awesome, I’m sure she’s over the moon.” 

“Wait...she’s pregnant?” Sid asked, having obviously paid no mind to her growing bump when they met just a week or so ago. 

“Yeah. It’s complicated.” I expressed. “And she is over the moon. She was crying over the phone.” I added, once again scratching my head. It was left unspoken, but not unnoticed by Whit that I had been crying over the news too and we made our way over to a little cafe to record both interviews, my mind gradually refocusing as I focused back in on hockey and the world surrounding it. 

~~~

It wasn’t until we were a few drinks into a delicious dinner courtesy of Sid and Nate that Leigh was brought up as conversation again. 

It had happened casually, Sid inquiring as to what we had upcoming for the podcast. Whit went into a ramble on the secret project we’d been working on for months, a Pink Whitney vodka, and how we had a launch party for that planned for Labor Day weekend. Then RA brought up how each of us was working to pick up some of the management job duties so that Leigh could have a proper maternity leave when the time arose. That triggered Nate inquiring about the whole baby thing and I quickly had to vaguely explain that Leigh wasn’t with the baby’s father and that we were close friends because she’d been with me in Arizona when she found out. 

We’d just downed another round of drinks when Whit threw the first real punch. 

“So Biz….when are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...we’re just friends.” I lied, doing everything I could to keep my facial expressions neutral. 

“That’s bullshit and everyone else can see it besides the two of you.” He tossed back. “You look at her like she’s the goddamn stanley cup. I haven’t seen you even look at another woman in months. If you aren’t talking about work you’re talking about Leigh and the baby so stop playing. You’re in love with her.” 

If it weren’t for the drinks I’d already consumed I probably wouldn’t have admitted to anything. But with the drinks, I felt my palms start to sweat and my filter let a few too many thoughts slip through. 

“Of course I love her,” I mumbled. “She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s absolutely stunning, and she has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. She’s handled everything thrown at her with far more grace than I ever could have and she’s going to be an absolutely incredible mom.” Downing the rest of my last drink I sighed heavily. “But we’re just friends and it’s going to stay that way.” 

“So you love her and you obviously love her baby...what’s the fucking problem?” Whit pushed. 

“The problem is that she deserves more. Better.” At those words, every head at the table turned to look at me. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” RA questioned, his tone brusque. 

“It means that she could do so much better than me. I don’t exactly have the best reputation with women or in general. She deserves someone that can match her in intelligence and who won’t fucking stain her name with his own. She deserves someone who isn’t mentally fucked up...who doesn’t experience episodes where he can barely take care of himself let alone her and the baby. She deserves stability.” 

After spilling out all of the reasons why friends was all we were ever going to be, I expected some resistance, what I didn’t expect was Whit to bust out laughing at me. Glaring at him I clenched my jaw and he just shook his head. 

“You’re a fucking moron Paul. You’re making excuses as to why you aren’t good enough for her and she’s making excuses as to why she’s not good enough for you when in reality you’re perfect for each other.” 

“What are you talking about?” I pressed, swirling the ice in my glass aimlessly. 

“I’m talking about the fact that she told Brie she didn’t think that you’d ever even have sex with her because she’s not your type. She minimizes anything you feel for her proclaiming that it’s just the baby you’re attached to. She thinks that all you’d ever want to be is Uncle Paul so how could you possibly want to pursue more when a relationship with her would come with the baggage of a baby that’s not yours. She’s just as insecure as you are….but I guarantee you that the way you’re shaking your head about the things she’s worried about would be the same way she’d react to the things you’re worried about.” 

It baffled me to think that Leigh thought I wouldn’t want her. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if that expression meant that she actually did want me. For a while, conversation traveled back to less serious topics but before we headed back to the hotel for the night Whit pulled me aside one more time. 

“Look I get you have your own concerns and that you’re worried about unnecessarily dumping something else onto her plate but don’t let either of those fears keep you from something that could be great. Now may not be the right time, but I’ve seen the two of you together and you both bring out the best parts of each other...so just be patient and things will work out like they’re supposed to.” 

It wasn’t until I was settled into bed that I was able to watch the ultrasound video Leigh had sent me. Between that and dinner’s conversation, the moment that I closed my eyes, too many thoughts, thoughts of Leigh and the baby she was carrying, filled my mind making sleep impossible. Was it really possible that she felt the same way I did? Did I want to play a role more than Uncle in this baby’s life? Was she ready to move on after having her heart crushed not once, not twice, but three times? 

~~~

Just like she had said, Leigh dropped her pregnancy announcement as we were leaving Nova Scotia. Swiping through the photos I couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the way her bump had grown in the short time since I’d seen her last. She was very obviously pregnant now and though her photos only barely showed her face it was easy to see how much pregnancy suited her and how she was glowing because of it. 

Unsurprisingly the announcement garnered some attention both positive and negative. There were people both in her personal life and around the league that were absolutely thrilled for her. Then there were people that had very much jumped to conclusions as she expected they would and though there really wasn’t anything I could do, I was angry that I couldn’t protect her from their harsh words and suspicions. If I thought she’d let me, I’d chew out every idiot on the internet but deep down I knew that kind of attention would only make things worse. Instead, I focused on distracting her away from that content, asking questions about her plans for a nursery while trying to hide the feelings that were getting harder and harder to suppress.  

By the time her birthday arrived in the second week of July, I was determined to do something special for her. Though we were once again on opposite sides of the country I had been planning for her birthday since we left Vegas. In addition to sending flowers, I’d booked her a pregnancy massage session hoping to help alleviate some of the aches and pains she’d been complaining of. It didn’t seem like much to me but when she called after her appointment raving over how much better she felt, it was evident that my gesture was appreciated. Though I didn’t generally make posts for others on their birthdays, I felt compelled to share a few photos of the woman who had brightened my life up just by being a part of it. It was a little sappy but if anyone deserved it, it was her. 

Though we talked almost daily and her selfies came more frequently as dustbunny continued growing, I still found myself counting the days until I would see her in person next. And to be frank, it couldn’t come soon enough. I was completely screwed...but to be honest there was a part of me that knew that the moment I first laid eyes on her. 

Chapter 10 Social Media:

[raywritesthings]

Happy Accident 2/3

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Felicity Smoak, Curtis Holt, John Constantine, Barry Allen, Iris West, Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Barry Allen/Iris West Summary: Felicity’s punch has consequences no one intended, driving Oliver to take drastic measures with their own unexpected result. *Can be read on AO3, link in bio*

It was difficult trying to move in all this wet leather that clung to her skin like it was stuck with glue. Being cold and uncomfortable was distracting in itself; she hadn’t had any physical discomfort in that other realm, hadn’t wanted for any material need.

But now she was here in the real world, she was pretty sure. Oliver had brought her back even though she’d thought that was impossible now. “Is that a Lazarus Pit?”

“Yeah. Turns out there were more.” He pulled a big, fluffy towel out of a pack that Laurel eagerly took when he crouched down to pass it to her. He stayed there, smiling at her in a way he hadn’t for a long time, a way that always guaranteed to turn her insides to mush. Laurel tried to find something else to distract herself with.

“Who painted my nails black?” She was really starting to worry about her dad’s mental state if this was what he’d chosen to lay her to rest in.

“...you did?” A vaguely familiar voice said in what seemed to be a question. Looking past Oliver allowed her to see Curtis Holt, the man that had helped them save Oliver’s life and rescue Thea and Felicity from Brie Larvan’s attack on Palmer Tech. Felicity was here, too, staring at Laurel with an unreadable expression on her face.

Constantine had circled around to stare at her as well. “Oliver, if something’s gone sideways, I need to know.”

“It hasn’t — it’s not bad. You were right, I couldn’t find Black Siren’s soul.”

“Oh, she didn’t have one? Color me shocked,” Felicity muttered.

To Laurel’s surprise, Oliver ignored her entirely. “But it turned out that, even though her soul had fallen out of our Earth’s vibrational frequency, Laurel’s hadn’t.”

“Wait,” said Curtis. “You’re telling us this is Laurel-Laurel? Like the good one?”

Laurel raised an eyebrow at that. Since when had she been a ‘bad one’?

“Yes,” Oliver confirmed.

Felicity’s mouth fell open. “Laurel body-snatched her own doppelganger’s body?”

“This isn’t my body?” Laurel asked, her heart — or someone’s heart — doing a funny lurch. She ran both hands down her face. Everything felt like herself, except — was there a hole in her nose? She had a nose ring now?

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Oliver promised, his hands on her shoulders helping steady her. Behind him, Curtis and Felicity seemed less convinced.

“Oh man. Oh man, this is way beyond what I signed up for.”

“Why did you grab the wrong soul? You really thought it was a good idea to just mix and match people’s souls? This could be a disaster!”

“If everyone could shut it a moment?” Constantine demanded loudly, and they did. He nudged Oliver back a couple feet and stood over her, waving his arms and murmuring what to her basically sounded like gibberish under his breath. When he at last stopped, his shoulders sagged in relief. “For better or worse, she’s stable. An exorcism shouldn’t be necessary, and it’d be damn difficult to do since she is so compatible with this body.”

Laurel leaned slightly away at the word ‘exorcism’, but felt the tension leave her upon hearing the rest. She wasn’t totally sure how she felt inhabiting what was apparently a version of her body from another Earth. And really, what had happened to the other her that had led to Laurel inhabiting this body?

“How exactly did the other me die?” She asked. She had to assume the other her had died if they’d been trying to get her back with a Lazarus Pit.

The range of reactions was something to behold; from Oliver’s wince to Curtis squeezing his eyes shut and shying away to Felicity’s stiff, “There was an accident. But that doesn’t really matter, now, because… you’re back. The real you, this time. Kind of ironic considering she pretended to be you at first.”

“She did?” Laurel really wasn’t sure what to think from the bits and pieces she was learning about the other her – though she couldn’t help thinking that real was an oversimplification of what she was in relation to her doppelganger. Her doppelganger had been real, too, had lived and died. Was it right for her now to be living in her place?

Laurel didn’t want to be dead, though. Before she had died had been some of the best months of her life; she’d finally felt like she had everything to live for. She couldn’t and didn’t want to change that she was back, as selfish as it seemed.

“It’s a long story,” Oliver said. “There’s a lot we’re gonna have to catch you up on.”

“Wish I wasn’t used to that feeling.” Laurel shifted so that she could get back onto her feet — or her doppelganger’s feet. She didn’t know if she ought to keep reminding herself of that out of respect to the other woman or if it was just going to end up driving her mad. She was a little unsteady in the heeled boots she had on considering her feet were still damp inside them, and Oliver rose to his own feet to steady her, one hand on her arm, the other supporting her back. She smiled up at him a bit timidly; that other place she had been in was beginning to fade from her mind, and Laurel couldn’t help but to focus on the last conversation she remembered having in the land of the living until now.

“I’m going to need all of you to step outside while I place the protective enchantments over this Pit,” Constantine said.

They filed out, Laurel wrapping the towel tighter around her shoulders as she was met with cold mountain air. Oliver guided her to shelter against an outcrop of rock, one hand rubbing her back to help warm her.

“So what was the plan after this, exactly?” Felicity shouted to be heard over the wind. Laurel shifted to try and make a little more room for her friend to come stand with them, yet Felicity remained where she was using Curtis as a buffer.

“I was going to call a secure ARGUS transport,” Oliver said. “But we don’t need them now.”

“We do need a way to get a legally dead woman back into the US, though,” Curtis pointed out. Laurel found herself wondering why he was here. Not that she had anything against Curtis, she just would have pictured John or Thea being the third person to accompany them on this resurrection mission. Then again, she had no way of knowing how long it had been or what might have happened to Thea or John in the meantime. That was an unpleasant thought.

Oliver nodded. “Felicity, see if you can get a hold of Cisco.”

Their friend turned away to do just that. Laurel desperately wanted to know why there was still such a coldness between the pair, and why it no longer just seemed to be on Felicity’s side of things. And why had Oliver apologized to her about Felicity? Except it hadn’t been to her, it had been to some other version of her. Something had happened that no one seemed to want to get into right now. She’d let it go for a time, but once she was warm and in comfortable clothes, Laurel wanted to know just what exactly had been going on while she was dead.

Constantine joined them outside. “Well, you lot got a way back yet?”

“Working on it, John,” Oliver told him.

“Then I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he said. “Laurel, always a pleasure.” The man leaned in and gave her a light peck on the cheek, which Laurel couldn’t help noticing had Oliver grimacing. “You take better care of these Lance girls, Oliver, or I might have to steal them from you.”

“Well, Sara speaks for herself, but I’m happy where I am,” Laurel said before Oliver could try to speak up on her behalf. He looked mollified by her answer anyway.

Constantine shrugged with a grin. “Worth a try. Right then, I’ll be off. Good luck in your new life!” He turned and sauntered down the mountain path, only the trail of cigarette smoke left in his wake after a moment.

“Cisco says he’ll make the breach and that we just step through,” Felicity shouted. “He doesn’t want to come to Siberia, apparently. Can’t imagine why.”

“Step through what?” Laurel asked, but then her answer arrived in the form of a strange, blue, rippling circle of energy opening up just a few feet ahead of them.

“Oh, thank you,” Curtis said before promptly running through it and not coming out the other side.

“Ollie?” Laurel asked.

“Just trust me,” he said, taking her hand as Felicity went through next. Laurel nodded and walked through it with him.

She could see nothing but blue all around them for a moment, and then they had somehow stepped out into some sort of command center of a room with computers and metal tables. Caitlin Snow and Cisco were there, along with a woman Laurel didn’t know.

“Thanks for the pickup,” Felicity was saying as she rubbed her hands together. “I was not looking forward to going back down that mountain.”

“So what were you all doing out there anyway?” Caitlin asked. She froze as her gaze passed over all of them and stopped on Laurel. “Oh!”

“Uh, hi,” said Laurel. “I’m back.”

Rather than surprise or even happiness meeting that statement, however, Caitlin paled, the unknown woman reached for a gun and Cisco sent some kind of blast of that blue energy at her, knocking her clean off her feet.

“We’ve got Siren!” He called out.

“Hey!” Oliver rushed to her side, but to her own amazement, Laurel was already shaking it off and getting back to her feet with her fists clenched. Figured this was the kind of welcome she got when coming back from the dead. “Just give me a minute to explain,” Oliver was saying.

Laurel saw a streak of lightning rush into the room straight toward her, her fight or flight response kicking in of its own accord. Without her even willing it, she released a scream like she used to with her choker device. Except instead of it just producing a noise this time, she felt the power of it rush out of her in waves that impacted Barry and pinned him against the opposite wall.

“Laurel, Laurel, stop!” Oliver’s hand on her arm snapped her out of her fighting stance, and the scream let up.

She backed up a couple steps, one hand going to her throat. “How did I do that?”

“It- she could do that,” he answered. “She was a metahuman.”

“Oliver, are we sure she isn’t still — that maybe some of her is still in there?” Felicity asked, eyeing Laurel warily.

“John didn’t seem to think so.”

“Okay, is someone going to actually explain what we’re talking about and why Black Siren shouldn’t go back in the pipeline?” Cisco asked, loud enough to cut through what seemed to be a brewing argument.

“Because I’m not Black Siren,” Laurel said. “I’m me. And I didn’t mean to do that just now. I didn’t even know I could. I’m sorry,” she said to Barry, who was just struggling to his feet with the unnamed woman’s help.

“Well, thanks for the apology,” he grunted. “But I’m not following. You’re not Black Siren, you just have her clothes and her powers and look just like her?”

“Well, that’s what happens when Oliver decides to drop original Laurel’s soul in Black Siren’s body on a whim,” Felicity remarked.

The Flash team all looked suitably stunned. Laurel shifted a bit uncomfortably. She really didn’t know what the process was for accepting that you were yourself, but slightly not at the same time. Somewhere else, the body she had always known was still rotting away in a grave. Somehow she kept whatever contents might have been in her other self’s stomach at the thought.

“So… she’s our Laurel instead?” Caitlin asked at last.

“Yes,” Oliver seemed glad to answer.

Cisco was the first of the group to approach, scrutinizing her for a long moment. “What was the thing I asked for in exchange for the Canary Cry?”

“What did I say I’d do if you showed anyone?” Laurel answered with her own question. The others looked, if anything, even more wary.

But Cisco’s face split into a wide beam. “Can I hug you?”

Laurel, who had not been hugged yet since coming back from the dead, opened her arms obligingly. Cisco practically flew into them.

“We missed you so much! I love how no one from Star stays dead!”

Cisco’s teammates were all relaxing now that he had given the green light of sorts, and one by one approached her for hugs as well, though in the case of the woman who came up after Barry it was accompanied with a, “I’m Iris. It’s really great to finally meet the you the others have all told me about.”

“Thank you.”

“And you’re a metahuman now? I mean, this is even more awesome,” Cisco was saying.

“Is no one really going to miss the other me?” Laurel couldn’t help asking. A part of her felt she ought to stick up for her not-self.

When her question was met with a round of shaking heads from just about everyone but Oliver, she cringed. She could only imagine the worst.

“So how exactly did her soul replace Black Siren’s? And how are you gonna explain Laurel’s being alive? I mean, is she gonna resume living in Star?” Barry was asking Oliver. They were good questions, but Laurel was honestly starting to feel a little overwhelmed to consider it all. She still didn’t even know how long she’d been dead for.

“You look like you could use a shower and maybe some of your own clothes,” Iris noted. “Come on, I can show you where to find stuff.”

“Thanks,” Laurel said, catching Oliver’s eye briefly as she made to leave the room. He nodded, indicating he understood where she was heading, then returned to speaking with Barry. “So, when did you join Barry’s team?”

“Oh, I’ve known for a couple years now,” Iris answered her. “But I’ve known Barry since we were kids. We finally decided to give dating a shot a couple months ago.”

Laurel returned Iris’ happy smile with one of her own. “Good for you. Dating your best friend… it’s really special.” It had been one of the happiest times of her life before it was over.

But why was it starting to feel like Oliver didn’t think it was? Was it his happiness to have her back that she was misreading, or had something changed in a way she’d never dared to hope?

---

Barry gestured for Oliver to follow him out into the hall since Felicity and Curtis were already talking with Caitlin and Cisco. “So how exactly did this all start?”

“That’s a long story,” Oliver said with a sigh. “But I guess it started when Black Siren really did come to town. Prometheus, another archer, had broken her out and wanted her to pass herself off as our Laurel to mess with our heads, I guess. We ended up realizing it was a trick and capturing her, only Felicity let her escape to try and follow her to Prometheus,” Oliver explained, a frown on his face as he continued, “which nearly killed a security guard and led to Siren dying when Felicity sucker-punched her.”

Barry’s eyes went wide. Felicity had killed someone? He just couldn’t picture it. “And then?”

“And then, I… I don’t know if I can explain what watching her die again was like for me, Barry. My own team doesn’t even understand it. I called John Constantine, and maybe it was rash, but when he told me there were still other Lazarus Pits out there, I couldn’t just… not when my team was responsible. Not again. I know that sounds — she wasn’t even my Laurel—”

“No, I get it. I’ve met other versions of my loved ones, too. It affects you.” He could still remember holding Earth-2’s Iris close as her Joe slipped away from them at the hospital, a lump in his throat that had made it painful to breath. “And trust me, you don’t have to explain what watching something like that does, how desperate it makes you. I know.”

And the thing was, Barry thought he was starting to get something else, too. He had heard about Oliver and Felicity’s breakup last year a month or so after it had happened. When they had all met up to combat the Dominators last month, the two had seemed on good enough terms for a working partnership, but nowhere near the level of intimacy they had had the same time last year — when they hadn’t been fighting in one timeline, Barry supposed.

So when Oliver had told him about the dream world the Dominators had stuck him and some of the others in, that it had been a perfect life with his parents still alive and him about to be married to the love of his life, Barry had wondered at the time about the lack of a name. Part of him had assumed that Felicity had been implied, yet now he was starting to think that hadn’t been correct. Especially when Oliver and Felicity hardly even seemed cordial with each other now if Felicity’s sarcastic remarks and Oliver’s clear frustration with her actions towards Black Siren were any indication.

“Thank you, Barry,” Oliver said, drawing him out of those thoughts.

“Hey, you were there for me about Flashpoint. I am always gonna be in your corner no matter what the call,” he said. “So I guess you guys went to this Pit?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, we met John there and restored Siren’s body to life. When people are fully killed, their souls have to be restored separately. Laurel and I rescued Sara’s last year, but when I went in with John this time, there was nothing at first. He thinks that because she was on a different world to her own, her soul was lost to us.”

“Wow,” Barry said, making a mental note never to die on another Earth. “You said there was nothing at first?”

“Yeah. But then I heard a voice calling for me. It was Laurel. I don’t know how or why they were connected like that, how she knew I was there. But I am so thankful.”

It was hard to wrap his head around. Barry was a scientist first and foremost, no matter how strange the science in his life had become. He didn’t fully understand everything that went on in Star these days any more than they seemed to understand metahumans. Though who knew if that would change now that Laurel was one.

But if Laurel was alive again and Oliver was happy, then Barry supposed the rest of it didn’t matter much in the end how it had happened. Just that it had.

“What are you going to tell people? I mean, everybody knows she was the Black Canary.”

Oliver looked down. “I wish Evelyn’s actions hadn’t made me do that, now. I haven’t spoken to Laurel yet about what people know. We’ll have to figure something out.”

Barry nodded. Anything else he might have said, however, would have to wait, as footsteps announced the arrival of Iris with Laurel. His girlfriend had supplied Laurel with the full STAR Labs apparel line, it looked like, and the two were chatting away like old friends as Laurel towel-dried her hair.

“And there they are,” Iris remarked, smiling at Barry in a way that always made his stomach do funny flips. He couldn’t help but notice Laurel’s smile seemed to be having the same effect on Oliver.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Yeah, now that I’ve sort of taken stock of things.”

“Oh?”

“Well, other me clearly got into her fair share of fights judging by some of the scars I have,” Laurel remarked. “Kinda weird they’re in different places than mine were. Also, I have tattoos, now.”

“Really, where?” Oliver asked with a grin that had Barry’s mouth dropping open.

Laurel, for her part, just rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“C’mon, we better regroup with the others,” was all Oliver said in reply, still grinning as he offered Laurel his arm. She took it, and the two headed back into the cortex.

Iris stepped up to Barry’s side and slipped her arm around his back, her head leaning on his shoulder. “Aw, I’m glad they’re still cute. Teenage me’s kind of having a freak out right now.”

“Yeah?” Barry shook his head. Iris and her magazines. He much preferred her writing. Together, they followed their friends back into the room.

Caitlin and Cisco had abandoned their conversation with Curtis and Felicity to come see Laurel again.

“We have some data on hand about the sonic scream already, of course, but it’d be amazing to get a full, comprehensive picture now that you’re the one in control of it.”

“Also, I’m thinking suit update. I mean, what’s a back from the dead party without presents? If you let me keep Siren’s suit for the measurements, I can have it ready by the end of the week.”

“Thank you,” Laurel said. “That’s really sweet.”

“It is, but you guys might be getting ahead of yourselves,” Felicity interjected. “Let’s not forget that Oliver kind of outed Laurel as a superhero last year.”

Barry winced as the smile dropped off Laurel’s face while she backed a step away from the group, away from Oliver. “What?”

“Yeah, right over your grave,” Felicity added.

“There was a situation with an imposter,” Oliver explained. “I was going to tell you. I just wanted you to have some time.”

“Well, she did need to know, Oliver,” Felicity argued. “I mean, I don’t even know if Laurel can come home with us, at least not publicly.”

“We will figure it out,” he said, his voice taking on a harder edge that Barry knew meant it was time for the other person to stop pushing. But Barry also knew Felicity tended to struggle with those sorts of social cues.

Sure enough, his socially awkward friend continued, “How? This isn’t exactly something you can take back. I mean, you had a statue built in Laurel’s honor — even if her doppelganger just destroyed it — and Quentin even confirmed he knew Laurel’s identity which cost him getting his job back—”

“My dad gave up his job?” Laurel asked, looking distressed at the prospect.

“It wouldn’t have been good for him to take it, Laurel, he needed the time in rehab,” Felicity said, and though her tone was a soothing one, Laurel did not look any calmer, and Barry didn’t blame her. 

There was something about the smile playing around Felicity’s lips that didn’t quite seem sympathetic and raised the hairs on the backs of his arms. He had spent enough time over the last few years with men who had claimed to have his best interests at heart all the while that they schemed and acted to hurt him, and he had gotten good at spotting the feeling. But why would Felicity of all people be giving him that feeling?

“That’s another thing, actually,” Felicity was saying the same time that Barry’s mind raced with these observations. “If Quentin hears about Laurel being back, he’ll want to check himself out in the middle of his treatment. You really did not think through the ramifications of doing this, Oliver.”

“Felicity, that’s enough,” Oliver commanded, causing everyone in the room to stand just a little bit straighter. Felicity’s mouth, which had opened again to speak, snapped shut. “What is done is done, and whatever the complications that arise, we will deal with. I would much rather live in a world where Laurel is alive and have some issues to sort out rather than a simpler one where she is not here. I’d have hoped you felt the same way.”

There was a stunned moment of silence where Caitlin, Cisco and Curtis all stood there gaping. Iris watched at Barry’s side, her slightly widened eyes the only giveaway to her feelings on the matter and Barry himself had little clue how he looked on the outside, only knowing that he would never have thought he’d see Oliver take that tone with Felicity; not since the disagreement they had had all those years ago when Barry had been brought in on the secret of the older vigilante’s identity.

Laurel stood at the midpoint between them, her arms crossed in a move Barry recognized was far more about shielding herself than it was about projecting power. Her disbelieving gaze slowly swept in Felicity’s direction, who scoffed.

“I- of course I prefer it! I just think you have a bad habit of making incredibly impulsive decisions without considering all the facts or getting the rest of the team’s consensus.”

Oliver didn’t even bat an eye. “Impulsive decisions like going behind my back and giving the recruits separate parameters for a mission that ran completely counter to my stated directions? Or like releasing a dangerous prisoner in the hopes she’ll lead you to her commander?”

“You- you did that, too,” Felicity declared. “Last year, with Anarchy!”

“Yes, and I was wrong! Which Laurel pointed out to me, privately instead of bringing it up in front of the team or our friends, something that in all the years we have worked together, you never fail to do,” Oliver shouted. He then squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, voice returning to a normal volume as he added, “I didn’t like doing that with you, just now. I understand why you took those risks with Siren, what you are going through. I wanted to address it later, see what you needed to let the team keep working.” His frown deepened. “But you never have afforded me the same courtesy, and I am realizing that you never will.”

“Oliver—”

“I need to ask you to take a leave of absence from the team.”

“What?”

“Oliver,” Laurel said softly. “If this is about just now, I’ll be fine. I don’t want people kicked off the team just because they disagreed about bringing me back.”

“If it was just that, I’d consider other options. But this has been an ongoing problem I’ve made excuses for in the past, and that’s only compounded things.”

“What, because I make my own decisions and don’t just follow your orders? That’s enough to get kicked off a team I helped build?” Felicity demanded.

“I recruited you,” Oliver said. “I thought it would be a good idea to have an expert on the computers, but that does not make you an expert in the field. A woman died a few nights ago because of an impulsive attack you made on her after Curtis had already taken measures to neutralize her threat. When that catches up with you, when you can see past the anger and grief you are feeling over Billy and think about what you did, you are going to need the time off.” The anger had almost entirely receded, and it struck Barry now why Oliver was doing this; he was trying to be kind. “When you’ve had that time, we can talk. And that will include laying some ground rules about how the team is going to operate.”

Felicity nodded, her eyes particularly bright behind her glasses in a way Barry knew meant she was holding onto her tears. “Well, I can save you the time, because it is going to operate without me.” She turned and marched for the exit to the cortex, turning once to call over her shoulder, “Good luck with the recruits since they basically all hate you.”

She left a very long and awkward silence in her wake.

“Um, for the record,” Curtis began in a small voice. “While I don’t exactly hate — it’s a strong word, you know — but I do, at times, find you extremely difficult to work with, and I’m not sure how I feel about what just happened.”

“Then take some time off to figure it out, Curtis,” Oliver replied. “I need a team that can function as a cohesive unit. We are never going to defeat Prometheus when we’re too busy with infighting. Decide what’s more important to you, and then stick with it.”

Curtis gulped and nodded.

Oliver turned out to face the wider room. “I’m sorry that had to happen in your space, Barry.”

“No, it — well, it’s probably best we know the situation,” he decided. “I guess I just hope things work out for the best.”

“We should probably get home. All of us,” Oliver added, with a look at Laurel.

“What are we going to tell people?” She asked.

“That’s something I’m working on, but I know you’d rather be in Star than anywhere else.”

Laurel’s lips turned up in a small smile, and she nodded.

“I can get you guys back to your base to avoid bumping into anybody who shouldn’t know yet,” Cisco offered. “And I’m still gonna get started on the suit.”

“Thanks, Cisco,” Laurel said, walking over and hugging him again. Barry thought his friend was quite happy with that development.

A new breach was made, and the remaining Team Arrow members stepped through, the somewhat tense and awkward air in the room breaking as the breach closed.

“Well, that was… something,” Iris commented. “I hadn’t realized things were so bad with their team.”

“Neither had I,” Barry admitted. He had always viewed the Arrow’s team as a well-oiled machine, something to aspire towards. It was almost comforting to know they had their issues the same as his team had had theirs. Barry hoped it never came to a head the way things just had between Oliver and Felicity, though.

He couldn’t help wondering, however, if perhaps that had needed to happen. The last couple times Barry had seen Oliver, the other man had seemed tired, run down, and missing some part of that unbeatable drive he brought to everything he did. Now it seemed he had regained it with new vigor, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what had caused it.

Barry only hoped Oliver did figure out some way for Laurel to return to Star City officially, and as a free woman. He needed her just as surely as Barry needed Iris. And like Oliver had just proven, even death could be conquered in the face of love.

[nazario-sayeed]

Ease my mind (Nik x F!MC; NSFW)

Summary: After Elric's death, Nik helps MC takes her mind off things. (WC: around 3700)

Author's note: This takes place after they escape Lamrian, but it diverges from canon. I had this idea when I played the last chapter and honestly I'm thirsty for Nik and I had to get some of this out. English is not my first language and even though I reviewed this 50 times, there are probably some mistakes. My MC is named Brie. 

Special thanks to @nazariortega for reading my first draft and supporting me even when I'm being a crazy bitch with no confidence whatsoever. 

Rating: definitely +18 for sexual content. 

Tag list: @duchess-ash-flame  @lahelalove (although you might wanna skip this one, kristi) @carreraleigh @donutsgirl36 @queenkaneko @msjpuddleduck @quinnskelly @flyawayboo @brightpinkpeppercorn @jlpplays1 @desiree-0816 @sibella-plays-choices @embarrassingsmartphonegame @mfackenthal @keira1416

The group went straight to the Graveyward Shift after leaving Lamrian. It had been one hell of a night, and they were all drained- physically and emotionally. But Brie most of all. While the rest of them discussed their plan to find and kill Thomas, Brie didn't really pay attention. She was sitting at the bar, with an untouched drink in her hand while the image of the bloodwraith plunging its vicious claw into Elric's chest kept replaying on her head, over and over again.

"Brie? What do you think?" Nik's voice brought her back to reality.

"Hm? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention" she said, her voice weak and her mind elsewhere. Nik noticed the exhausted look on her face and sighed. He turned to the rest of the group looking lost for the the first time; they all seemed concerned about Brie's state.

"How about we get a night of sleep and regroup here tomorrow morning? It's no use going after Thomas right now. We should all at least try and get some rest. Garrus' wards are strong enough to protect you both for one night, right? And the bloodwraith won't come after the rest of us if we're not with you, so we'll be fine" Katherine suggested and Brie looked a bit relieved, letting out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She couldn't possibly face another monster right now. 

"That works, Katy. Thank you" Nik said, surprising the other nighthunter with his softness. That was a first for them. She gave him a knowing look and left. Cal and Vera said their quick goodbye and followed her, but Brie didn't seem to notice or care that they were gone. Her thoughts were already back on the bloodwraith and her new found- and lost- dad; she felt a shiver run through her body when she remembered that thing's brutal shriek while it came for her, with a chilling dead gaze and insatiable bloodlust, getting closer each second...

She jumped on her seat, startled, when Nik gently placed his strong hand on her shoulder. "Jeez, rookie, calm down. It's me." he said, taking the seat next to hers.

"Sorry, Nik. My head is all over the place." she sighed, exhausted. He swallowed, not sure of how to comfort her, and tentatively placed a hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. She met his eyes and smiled weakly, though there was no joy in it.

"I know the feeling, rook. We should head upstairs. You can take a shower and I'll make you some tea- or pour you a shot of snake tequila. It's your call, whatever helps" he said with a smirk, and she gave him a true half smile. They got up, said goodbye to Garrus and went to Nik's apartment upstairs.

Brie took off her bloodied peacock dress and got in the steamy shower, trying to focus on the water instead of on her stubborn thoughts about this whole night that simply wouldn't leave her alone. At some point, the water and her tears got mixed up on her face.

She left the shower and put on a white comfy robe Nik had lend her. Her silver hair was still damp, but she didn't bother wrapping it on a towel.

As soon as she left the bathroom, she flopped down on Nik's bed. He knocked on the door.

"Brie? You done?"

"Yes. Come in" she answered, and he opened the door with one hand while carrying a small tray on the other. There was a cup of tea and a shot glass filled with what she assumed was snake tequila. She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled despite of herself "Thank you, Nik".

"No problem, rook" he said, feeling a bit better for actually managing to make her smile- even if it lasted half a second. He headed to his ensuite bathroom and closed the door; a few seconds later Brie heard the water running.

She threw back the tequila shot hoping it would easy her mind. She felt it burning her throat, and it immediately made her feel dizzy. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't eaten anything in hours. She took one sip of the tea, and felt a bit calmer. Before Nik even left the shower, she had drank the whole cup and laid down on his bed her the sheets, not bothering to put clothes on- the robe was comfortable enough.

When Nik stepped out of the bathroom, Brie was staring at the ceiling. His heart broke a little when he noticed the devastated look on her face. He knew the pain of losing a parent all too well- he went through it three times. The thrice-cursed son. And having been where she was more than once, he knew that only time could truly help. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t at least try to make her feel better. He laid down next to her, but didn't say anything. He would let her take her time- he just had to let her know he was there for her.

It didn't take long and he felt Brie's hand searching for his on the bed; she found it and gave it a small squeeze. Nik looked at her, but she wasn't looking at him. Her face seemed troubled.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked tentatively. He moved his hand so he could interlace his fingers with her. She took a deep breath.

"I can't stop thinking about Elric- my dad. I barely even knew him, I shouldn't be feeling this bad, right? But I am." she closed her eyes and when she opened them again, they were wet with tears. Her voice came out shaky "I guess I feel like all of this is my fault. Everyday you, Cal, Vera, and Katherine are out there putting yourselves at risk because of me. And now my dad- a fae Lord- is dead because of me, because that crazy bloodwraith came after me and he tried to protect me." She said in one breath, like she had been holding this for too long. She sighed again as the tears came down. She continued before Nik could say anything. "And sometimes I feel like it's not worth it, you know? Like... I'm not worth it. Maybe I should give up. Just let the bloodwraith end it once for all. If anyone else dies because of me, I don't know if I'll be able to live with myself- especially if it’s anyone I care about" the tears were coming down strong now, and she let go of Nik’s hand to wipe her face, sobbing uncontrollably.

Nik sat up and pulled Brie with him, so her face was buried on his shoulders as his strong arms wrapped around her. She didn't hold it back; the tears were stroking down her face like a river, falling violently into his bare frame.

"Rook, how can you say that? You know I've had countless jobs as a nighthunter and I was damn excellent in every one of them. But I've never personally cared about a client like I do about you, Brie. We've known each other for what? A week now? When I told you the other night that it would just about kill me if something happened to you, and I wasn't lying. I'll be damned if I let anything happen to you, you hear me? We're in this together." he said, holding her so close, like if he tried hard enough, he could keep her protected inside his arms.

Eventually, her sobbing stopped and she pulled away from him. She looked into his eyes and noticed a gentler expression than she had ever seen from him. He reached out to her face and wiped some of her tears with his calloused thumb.

"You must think I'm a mess" she whispered, looking down.

"Eh, hell. Who am I to say anyone is a mess? The damn Fate calls me thrice-cursed son for a reason" he said and she let out a small chuckle.

For the first time, she noticed Nik was wearing nothing but a towel on his waist. His muscular abs were covered in drops, but she didn't know if they were from his shower or her tears. She noticed how close they were and how little clothing both of them were wearing, and her heartbeat suddenly started to quicken.

She reached out and tentatively traced a delicate finger on his stubbled jaw; he held his breath under her touch. The air between them felt electrifried as she looked up and met his intense gaze again.

"Brie.." he breathed, and before he could say anything else, she closed the distance between them, crashing her lips into his. He seemed hesitant at first, but she kissed him with so much passion that he had no other option but to kiss her back. One of his hands reached the back of her neck, wrapping her still damp hair on it, while his other arm pulled her closer by the waist. She took the opportunity to straddle him, her hands already exploring his muscular chest.

The room was too hot all at once, and Nik could feel the desire spreading through his body. Whatever he was feeling, Brie seemed to be feeling it ten times harder. But as good as it felt, Nik had to pull away. She looked kind of hurt by his gesture.

"Nik, is something wrong?" she asked, not being able to hide the disappointment on her voice. She was still straddling him, and he touched his forehead to hers.

"No, Brie, everything is fine. It's just… I don't think it's a good idea to take things further today. You're grieving and hurt, and I don't wanna take an advantage." he said, resting his hands on her hips.

"Nik, I've wanted you since I first saw you. We were interrupted that night at The Fate's house, and then again at Lamrian… I need you. For all I know, we might die tomorrow. I don't wanna wait anymore. Please, Nik, take me. Make me forget everything else, make me feel good" she pleaded, not caring about how desperate she sounded. She pulled him closer so there was no space left between their bodies, putting her lips impossibly close to his without touching.

"Damn it, rookie" he groaned, before ardently pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against him; their kiss was so fervent she could almost feel real sparks on the air.

Nik moved his mouth to her neck and began to slide the soft fabric off her shoulder, trailing warm kisses on her skin. His other hand quickly undid the lace that held her robe together, exposing her front to him. She didn't wait much longer before taking it off and tossing it carelessly to the floor. She was completely naked on his lap, his hands all over her.

"You are so gorgeous, Brie" he whispered, pulling back to admire her curves on top of him. They both could feel his arousal growing beneath the towel. She gently grinded her hips on him, trying to create some kind of friction that could fulfill her craving for him. He flipped their positions with one swift movement so she was under him. He used one hand to pin hers above her head, while propping himself on his elbow with the other. His mouth began to trace a delicate path down her throat, collarbone, the valley between her breasts…

"Oh, Nik..." she moaned, writhing beneath him, desperate for more. He moved his mouth to kiss her again, and he let go of her hands so he could use his to tease her breast until her nipple hardened under his touch. She held him by the neck, using her other hand to pull away his towel, tossing it aimless across the room. They were kissing with no barriers between them; she could feel his hardened length pressing down on her stomach. His mouth slowly traced down a path on her body, sucking lightly on her neck before kissing her chest and taking one of her breasts into his mouth; he expertly used his lips, tongue and even teeth to drive her mad with lust.

One of his hands reached between her legs, making her gasp and tighten the hold on his hair. He easily moved his fingers to pleasure her, using the perfect amount of pressure to trace small circles on her sensitive nub; it was just enough to make her struggle for breath, arching into his touch. She dug her fingers into his back, leaving half moon marks on it.

"Nik, that feels so good, please don't stop..." she begged, longing for more. He let go of her breast and kissed her again, never stopping the blissful movements of his fingers.

"Don't plan to, rook" he teased her, smiling against her lips. Her chuckle was quickly transformed into a moan when he finally plunged one finger inside her.

While she grabbed his hair, Nik moved his head lower on her body until he was kissing his way up her thighs, her legs already tossed over his shoulders. Every inch of her body that he covered with his mouth made her feel like she was catching on fire. When his lips finally met her center, she could've sworn she went to heaven and back- even though her mind was nothing but sinful now.

Brie unconsciously bucked her hip forward, wanting him impossibly closer. He held her in place with his hands on her thighs while he tasted her, like he had been wanting to ever since he met her- even more after they got so close to it at the Chateau Des Epoques.

She threw her head back and moaned his name with delight as he swirled his tongue just right. She held tight into his sheets, feeling like her soul could leave her body if she let go. It didn't take long until the sensation of his mouth working on her was just too much, and stars exploded behind her eyes while she screamed his name in absolute ecstasy; Nik didn’t stop there- he kept devouring her until she had ridden every wave of her release.

Brie didn't know how long it took for her to come down from the high; it might had been seconds, minutes or even hours until she was able to come back to herself. She looked down and saw Nik grinning at her from between her legs, and she couldn’t help but smile at him, face flushed.

"That was… wow" she breathed, trying and failing to find the right words. She couldn’t possibly describe what she was feeling after that mind blowing orgasm. Her voice was shaky, as were her legs.

“Wow is damn right, rook. You taste fucking amazing” Nik said, before kissing his way back to her lips and capturing them on a fiery kiss. She barely had time to recover, but feeling herself on his mouth turned her on once more, and just like that she was ready to go again. Brie affectionately ran her fingers through the nighthunter’s hair as she let herself melt into the kiss. As it became deeper, she moaned and felt his length twitching between them. She reached out between their bodies and started to stroke him lightly; his breath got caught in his throat with the movements of her skilled hand, and he buried his face on the crook of her neck, panting.

He felt an urgent need to feel all of her, to be inside her, so he gently removed her hand and kissed her hard on the mouth again, interlacing their fingers over her head.

"Brie, are you sure you want this?" he asked, praying that she hadn't changed her mind.

"God, yes. I need this, Nik." she almost begged into his mouth. He placed one gentle kiss to her lips and clumsily reached over to his nightstand drawer to grab a condom, quickly opening the package and rolling it down his length.

He pinned one hand beside her head. Her free hand found the back of his neck, while he held himself with the other, aligning into her entrance. Nik glanced down at the stunning woman under him, and he felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes met her sizzling gaze. There was something very ethereal about the way she looked before him, but he couldn’t tell if it was because of her fae roots or if Brie herself was pure magic. She stared back at the nighthunter with so much passion- which had been building up inside of her ever since their first kiss at the Bayou.

Their eyes remained locked as Nik sunk into her. He watched intensely as pleasure took over her beautiful face when they connected, and he was sure his own features were filled with luxury. The feeling of Brie around him was the most exquisite thing he had ever experienced, and the lustful sounds she was making made him believe she felt the same.

As they moved together in perfect synch, gazing into each other’s eyes, they forgot about everything else. They were only focused on the feeling of their slicked bodies together and on the sound of their amusement echoing in the room. There were no more zombies, bloodwraiths, wicked witches or any other creature- in that moment, there were only they. The world outside of Nik’s room didn’t matter anymore as they explored new heights of pleasure on each other’s arms.

Brie wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to feel every inch of him inside her body, and rolled them over so she was on top. She grabbed both of his hands and placed them on her hips, and placed her own on his chest for support. She slowly began to rock her hips, biting her own lips because it just felt that good. She looked down to catch Nik smirking at her.

"My, my rook. I have to say I like when you take control" he teased, making her smile; she lowered her body so her chest was touching his, and she kissed him with surprisingly gentleness. Brie wandered one hand through his dark hair, looking into his eye and smiling, as he helped guide her hips faster. As their pace became more desperate, they both could feel themselves getting closer, their breaths quickening and their moans growing louder.

Their movements became more rapid and passionate, like if they couldn’t possibly get enough of each other. Amid their lustful rendezvous, one of Nik's hand let go of her hips and took her hand, lacing their fingers on the side of his body as a brief gesture of affection. Their eyes met again and neither of them looked away, the fire in their gaze growing as both of them came closer and closer to their release. At that moment, their connection wasn’t purely physical- there was too much fondness on their movements and on their eyes for it to be simply carnal.

It only took a few more movements of their joined hips and Brie was screaming his name and gripping his hand tight again, throwing her head back with delight. Her walls pulsated and deliciously squeezed him inside of her; he couldn't look away as pleasure washed over her face. 'So damn beautiful', he thought, and the sight of her face dazzled in bliss combined with the feeling of her around him was too much; a hundred different swear words crossed Nik's mind as he came just a few seconds after she did. They stayed connected like that, Brie collapsed on top of him, their sweaty bodies pressed together, their panting and heartbeats synchd, as they came back from their overwhelming high. Their hands never left each other through all of it.

At some point, Nik had closed his eyes and didn't even notice. He opened them again and found Brie staring down at him, her face lighter than he had seen since he saved her from the bloodwraith when they first met. He couldn't escape the smirk forming on his lips as he pushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Wow" she said again, smiling. He let out a small laugh as she rolled out of him to lay by his side. He quickly discarded the used condom on the trash can next to his bed, and laid down again, pulling Brie to rest her head on his chest.  

"Yeah, wow is damn right, rook. Again." he teased and they both chuckled. He absently ran his hands through her hair and arms as she nestled closer to him, letting the heat of his body envelop hers. She let her hand wonder down his chest, tracing the lines of his every scar with her fingertips. For once, her mind wasn't filled with cruel monsters, or worries about what was coming for them. She could only focus on the feeling of Nik's body so close to hers, and she let herself feel safe, comfortable and even peaceful. She let herself think that maybe it was worth it, after all. She had something to fight for.

The exhaustion of these last days got to her and she wasn't afraid to fall asleep for the first time ever since she arrived. Even when they fell asleep together at The Fate's house, the ambience didn't let her feel like she could truly relax. But at Nik's apartment, she felt like she had a place to call home in New Orleans. Hell, maybe he was that place. Who was she trying to trick? She was already completely smitten with him even before this night.

“Nik?” she called, her eyes already closed.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you dare dying tomorrow, okay?” she said, trying to disguise her worry with a teasing tone.

“I’ll do my best, rook.” he kissed the top of her head and Brie let out a content breath, enjoying the comfort he made her feel and falling asleep without a single worry on her mind.

The twisted creatures could wait until tomorrow. For today, they let themselves believe in the illusion that everything was fine. As they slept in each other’s arms, how could they possibly believe that things were anything different than wonderful?

[praphit]

Captain Marvel: I dream of Breezy

People, the time has come!

Ever since we saw Nick Fury sending out a message at the end of "Infinity War", we've been waiting... which in the moment seemed out of place. The world is literally disappearing before our eyes, The Avengers took a big L, and Nick Fury decides to... what? pull out some high-tech weapon to save the day? - no. Pull out some type of device that will save himself from disappearing? - no. But, he's got time to take a selfie or tell his women "bye" - or so I thought. He was actually sending a message to the mysterious (at the time) Captain Marvel!

BOOM!

Brie Larson, who plays CM, was always hanging out at Marvel events, and we finally figured out why. It was strange at some of these events tho... like the Black Panther Party - all of these people from Wakanda -

- and then there's Brie Larson.

And they're like "What the hell, woman?! Why are you here?!"

But, now we KNOW! - she's Captain Marvel!

SPLADOW

- and she's going to play a huge role in saving the day. Then, we found out that she's getting her own movie, and it's about damned time it has arrived.

I had a dream about Brie the night before this movie's release. She was sitting on the couch, and was upset about something. She also had... well, maybe she was pregnant... or she had a beer gut. But, in this dream, I remember feeling a deep love for Brie, so even if it was a beer gut, it didn't matter to me. It would also mean tht she's passionate about beer, which I am as well:)

I don't know if we were a couple, or if she was the other woman, or if I was the other man... or if I was trapped in the friend zone, and thought I'd use this time of her being upset to break free and into her arms... Who knows?? I also don't know what she was upset about. But, towards the end of the dream, I was on the couch with her, giving her a hug:) - she let me, so I know she wasn't upset at me. I woke up and shouted "Brie!" And within seconds, I realized it was all a dream... or was it? Maybe she's my wife in another dimension. We'll solve that mystery later, it felt real as hell tho.

Anyway! We have Brie as Capt M. We also have a digitally young Sam L Jackson!

Before the brooding, the scars, the all black uniform, the badass eye patch, and him demanding to know what's in my wallet, he was a young pup of a detective, who loves cats apparently. I was excited to see more of his story.

Jude Law is also in this movie. He's rockin that look when you're losing your hair, but you jell it up a bit to look like you're still young and hip. Some people can pull off the look, but it's always the beginning of mid-life crisis. Whenever I see people walking down the street with that look, I always tell them that I'm praying for them.

When was Jude's last big movie? I ask because Jude is supposed to be a big star right?? - or at least he was. Yet I never see him at any Marvel parties. Is he not invited? Why don't they like Jude? "Jude" is such a cool name. I'd want him at the party, so I could say things like "You know JUUUDE'S going to be here." and "Excuse me, but I need to go speak with JUUUDE." Why don't they want him there? Is it because of his mid-life crisis? I have a feeling that when rich, famous, white men go through their mid-life crisis that it's ten times worse than other non-those things people. Anyway, yet another mystery to solve.

Djimon Hounsou is up in there as well - I feel like he never gets enough credit for being in everything. And Ben Mendelsohn, who's frickin awesome as a villainous character.

We've got a great cast, some kick ass special effects (which btw they put their budget to good use - the bg's and fight scenes were dope), AND we got the 90's going on! We saw from the trailer that Capt Marvel smash-lands through the roof of a BlockBuster Video store. Memories, am I right?? Some of you are prob too young to remember the pain of renting a DVD season. I remember trying to rent epi's 3 & 4 or something, but they might only have 1 & 2 and 5-10. I'd have to search around at other BlockBuster's (especially if I promised a lovely lady on a date that we'd watch a certain episode when we got home) or say "eff it!" and watch it out of order. I used flirt with the clerks to ensure they'd lmk when the epi's I needed were in. Turnin BlockBuster tricks for episodes... the 90's were rough. The movie takes you down a fun lane of memories, if you remember those days tho.

In the midst of nostalgia Capt Marvel is snatched away from her successful life as a pilot, taken to space where she is made into the Capt Marvel that we come to know, finds herself back to earth to hang out with Sam L while piecing together the memories of her past, all while a war is going on with a shape-shifting alien race called "Skrulls"

 - they kinda look like Yoda's people.

Ooo! maybe tht's another mystery! It would fit too, because a lot of this movie feels like Star Wars - like Star Wars meets a 90's buddy cop sitcom.

I enjoyed the movie. I had a fun time with it. There are some compaints out there: Some wanted this movie to be deeper in story. Some wanted this movie to be more soaked in serious feminism. Some wanted this movie to be less soaked in general feminism. Some were bothered by Brie Larson, believing that she's too stoic in her delivery.

Um... I don't understand the complaints about feminism (on either side). If you are looking for the feminism, it's def there. BUT, if you simply want to enjoy a movie without too much serious world stuff in it, that's def there too. You'll see or not see whatever you want, I guess. I would compare this movie more to "Ant-Man" in tone. Not as goofy, but it stays fun and light.

Now, it definitely could have been a deeper movie - CM is kidnapped, violated, and lied to - but Marvel ain't dumb - they don't want THAT to be the kid's first impression of her - that might effect sales. Besides, we don't always have to be so serious and tense all of the time.

Ex. In Ant-Man, he always goes big at some point and ends up crushing people's property, and probably crushing people around him as well - we don't talk about that. And what about his manipulation of those ants?! When you think about it, that shit ain't right! But, we don't need to talk about it:)

And I'm of course going to defend my wife from another dimension (Breezy). A lot of her personality is implied from the flashbacks, but we see she's snarky, fun, and a bit of a loose canon. I understand to a degree what people are saying, but I think the blame goes more to the writers than Brie. Also, the fact that there's non-stop war going on throughout the movie, so there's not a whole lot of down time to get to know her in depth.

The writing to me, is the biggest flaw of this movie: The villainous character that Ben Mendelsohn plays brilliantly is inconsistent. In the beginning of the movie, he's no-nonsense "We need to kill her and anyone who gets in our way". Then, later on, it's like he joins in the 90's buddy cop sitcom fun. He's crackin jokes and talkin shit - which btw (and I admit this is a nitpick) how does he know how to use slang and idioms, if he'd never been to the planet before? I also have other questions about shape-shifting - like... they can change into whomever they see, but... how do they get the details right? - or do they? Let's say somebody has a third nipple and a bad case of athlete's foot... how could they get those deets down? or even the voice - how do they copy your insides? And how do they copy your mind enough to fool people? I'm getting way too deep into this, I suppose... more mysteries smh.

Can you imagine if we all had the ability to copy one another?? Which takes identity theft to a ho nova level. Also sexual harassment... I mean let's say you wanted to feel what Chris Hemsworth's butt felt like.... you kinda could whenever you wanted to. Like I said, we don't need to go deep with everything:)

The writing is also too quick; the whole movie is - we don't get to know much more about Fury or any of the characters really - especially CM. At the end of the movie, I found myself not being invested enough in Capt to care if a sequel is made. I mean, I care if my wife from another dimension gets more of that Marvel money, but that's something different. There's also a part in the movie when she realizes she has been lied to... she gets over this very quickly. Most of us with that type of power would have went on a drunken rampage, but she just throws a slight tizzy, and moves on to kick butt. It would have been a great time to show some human traits that would have helped us relate to this character.

I also fear that they might run into the prob they run into with Superman. Supe is sooooo powerful and he doesn't have many flaws. It's flaws that draw us to characters as much as anything. We didn't get enough of the human side of CM. BUT, all in all (like I said), I enjoyed the film. But, I didn't have any expectations going in. I think if you go in like that, you'll be satisfied.

Grade: B

I wonder if Brie had a dream about me as well. I wonder if she's blogging about some lovable, praphitic... and sexy black man whom she feels like she had a loving life with, but then woke up. She's probably telling someone right now "I was preggo with his beer child (idk what that is, but it's another dimension - diff rules) and he was about to comfort cuz I was upset over stubbing my toe." That's prob all it was right?? I guess we'll never know:)

[thfrustration]

You Have Witchcraft In Your Lips - Ch 1

TITLE OF STORY: You Have Witchcraft In Your Lips CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Chapter One - I Hate The Media AUTHOR: Scarlet-Doll-13 WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: You have witchcraft in your lips’ (Henry V – Act 5, Scene 2) Eva was diagnosed with chronic illnesses in her teens and has struggled with her health. She is a costume designer and met Tom on the set of Thor and have been best friends ever since. Tom has always been a supportive friend with Eva’s health, being a confidant and a shoulder to cry on. Fast forward to after the ‘Swift’ moment, Tom found their roles reversed. Eva was the one to comfort him. After both professing their love for one another they settled in life together. Have a look into their life and the past moments that would unknowingly impact their future lives. RATING: Explicit (For strong language) WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: Swearing AUTHORS NOTES: This is a piece of fiction I don’t mean to offend or upset people. Eva is inspired by my struggle with my illnesses and also a chronically Ill YouTuber Chronically Jaquie (Go check her out, she’s amazing) . She has been a huge help for me to understand illness, disability and coping with day to day life.

June 2017 - London

 Bad news ladies the Night Manager Actor Tom Hiddleston was spotting kissing a redhead during Lunch in London. The actor and his companion sat outside the hip 60s cafe, the ‘coffee cup’ with a golden retriever at their feet.

 “Fuck. Shit, Wank. Balls!”

 Tom leaned around the door frame to the bathroom; towel round his waist and water from the shower rolled down his chest. “What?”

 I looked up at him over my glasses, “We’ve been discovered.”

 He ran a towel through his wet hair, “Well we’ve kept it quiet for 8 months, it was going to happen sooner or later.”

 He laid down next to me and peered at the laptop resting on my knees. He looked at the pictures of us taken from a few days ago. Tom and I were sat outside our favourite lunch place on a sunny weekday, with my dog under the table. There were pictures of us talking, one of tom with his arm on the back of my chair. We both were laughing at a photo book that had come that morning.

 “Well we weren’t overly clingy, just like we talked about with Luke, people won’t care. Carry on reading love.”

 He stood, dropping the towel and began rummaging through the draws for his boxers. I dragged my eyes from his pert backside that many of his fans had seen in the Night Manager.

“The 36 year old star was spotted with his arm around the back of her chair, both of them laughing at a book on the table. The golden under the table sat with his head in Hiddleston’s lap. Both of them were seen discussing something from the book.

 “They make us sound like we’re boring old farts.”

 Tom smirked, “Keep reading.”

 The presumed couple walked around Hampstead heath holding hands. Tom held onto the lead of the woman’s Dog, they retired to a bench where things got a little steamy.

 I slammed shut the laptop and placed it into the bedside cupboard. “Steamy! I’ll give them fucking steamy! There were children present! I bloody hate the media!”

Clad only in his boxers Tom fell into bed next to me, “Look we knew this would happen at some point, I’m surprised we got away with it for so long.”

I sighed and took of my glasses rubbing my eyes, “I just think I was living in a dream world.”

He pulled me too him so I was resting on his chest. He was still warm from the shower. “This article is nothing. The photos are shockingly bad, no-one at work will recognize that it’s you. They won’t even recognise Ragnar, he didn’t have his harness on. Even though he’s dashingly handsome, from those pictures he looks like any other golden retriever.

I leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you.”

Tom rolled us over so he was on top, “You are very welcome.”

Tom started to kiss down my neck and chest, when his phone rang. With Luke’s ring tone. I knew that he had seen the article. I slid out from under Tom.

 “Sorry lover boy, but that’s not a call I want to listen too.”

 Tom flumped on the bed and groaned.

~~~~~

By the time Tom had finished on the phone I had started dinner. He was now fully dressed in lounging trousers and a marvel t-shirt. His hair had air dried and now rivaled a labradoodle, as much as he hated it, I loved his curly hair. I slid his mug down the workbench. He took a sip.

“Was it that bad?”

Tom leaned against the side, Ragnar moved to sit at his feet. “Not really, we’ve managed to keep it under wraps for ages. Luke was just happy that we got all your privacy settings sorted last month. He knows that the press will keep digging to find out who you are.”

“I’m not worried too much sweetie, things happen for a reason. We’ll see how the next couple of weeks go, You never know I might say yes to Ragnarok.”

“I spoke to Luke about that. I just wished there was something a bit smaller for you first carpet event.”

I turned to look at him, leaning against the side. The low evening light shone through the kitchen window, igniting his blonde hair into a halo. His favourite mug clutched in his hands, staring into the tea like it would give him answers. I wiped my hands on my apron and stood next to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and his arm snaked around my waist.

“Sweetie I’m not worried, we have a long while to plan. Like Luke said we can always do a press release before the premiere. Which I think would be better. As soon as people google my name, they’ll find out who I am and about all my illnesses. How about you ring Luke back and ask him to pop round some time tomorrow.”

Tom nodded and kissed the top of my head, “Okay Darling. What have we got for dinner?“

I detangled myself from him and check on the pasta. “Bolognese. I found some in the freezer. He hummed in agreement, "I’ll go ring Luke then set the table.” Even though we still had our own places we spent most of the time at my place with the occasional nights at toms. It was easier to stay at mine then lug all my medical equipment to his. Being friends and lovers over the past 8 years put us at ease in each other’s company. I divided the pasta and Tom’s famous bolognese onto our two plates while Tom sliced the garlic bread. We took our seats at at the table and began to eat.

I took a sip of wine, “Was Luke okay with tomorrow?”

Tom nodded and reached for a slice of garlic bread. “He said he be round at 11. He’ll bring around some paperwork and stuff. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I sat back in my chair, “I’m sure Tom. It’s about time we took things seriously, I’m ready to start doing more events with you.

Tom smiled and patted my hand on the table.

“The only thing is Tom…”

He hummed round his mouthful of bread.

“I won’t be going to Wimbledon with you.”

Tom swallowed, tipped his head back and laughed, “I wouldn’t expect you too my dear.”

Tom and I snuggled on the sofa after dinner, Ragnor at out feet. We talked about what was going to happen tomorrow, all the different way we could announce relationship. Googling how other celebrities had released their relationships. Instagram looked like a strong possibility.

We laughed how no one had spotted us at Kong: Skull Island premiere in London, simply because it started raining and under Tom’s request Luke escorted me straight into the building under a large black umbrella. So no one really got a chance to take even one photograph me. Even at the LA premiere I walked down the carpet with relative easy. Tom arrived on his own and I caught Brie’s car as I had to quick fix her dress and lend her a pair of my louboutins. Brie always has a habit of stealing my shoes, handbags and clothes. Although I was three inches taller, definitely heavier and with slightly bigger boobs, we roughly wore the same size in most things. But I couldn’t talk I borrowed brie’s designer clothes to see how the fit and fabric feel for my fashion line. The joys of being of being clothes buddy’s.

~~~~~

Tom walked around the next morning like a bloody peacock, so proud of himself for giving me heart palpitations. It didn’t happen very often and the first time that it happened in bed, Tom nearly turned grey with worry and panic. Now it just brings him great joy and satisfaction. At 11 o’clock precisely the doorbell rang and Tom buzzed Luke up, leaving the door on its latch.

Tom popped round the kitchen door. “Is there anything that needs taking out?”

I nodded to the tray with cake and china on. “Just that please, I’m just waiting for the kettle to boil.”

I heard the lift doors open and Luke’s voice calling for Tom. Tom picked up the tray and took it into the dining room, I assume collecting Luke on the way. I was nervous about today, part of me still didn’t feel ready. Another was anxious about what people would say.

I poured the hot water in the large tea pot with earl grey for Tom and Luke. I poured water into the french press for my decaf coffee. I loved coffee so much, the smell and taste. That would be because of the Italian blood in me. But because of my heart condition I couldn’t drink much of the stuff and sometimes I couldn’t have it at all. Tom lovingly brought me coffee scented candles, so when I can’t have any I can still enjoy the smell.

I carried the tea pot and french press into the dining room, Tom stood took take the heavier teapot off me. Odin, my giant one eyed fluff monster, came and sat on the chair beside me. He’s partial to some cake, or any food at all. Tom had found his name hilarious when they first met, he spent the day calling him father and bowing I’m his presence. I still sometimes catch him doing it now.

Tom poured tea for him and Luke and coffee for me.

“So business first then cake?” Luke asked.

I nodded, “We talked about it last night and we think we should release something.”

“Just something small,” Tom added

“I just don’t want my presence at Thor Ragnarok premiere to over shadow the movie. I want people talking about how much they like the movie not who Tom’s dating.”

 Luke nodded and flipped through his diary and organiser. “So we have four months to Thor. So that’s enough time to release something and have it settle down again. So what were you both thinking.”

Tom took hold of my hand on the table. “We thought Instagram was good choice, not too formal. Just something to link us together.”

Luke looked at me, “anything else.”

I bit my lip. Tom knowing how I felt gave my hand a squeeze.

“I want to be out of the city when it’s released. I can’t be dealing with paparazzi and stalkers while I’m ill.”

Luke looked back at his diary. “Well Tom’s free for the next two weeks, I can’t see why not. It might do the both of you some good. A little R&R before you have to go on press tour and your new line comes out.”

I frowned and looked at Tom, “did you tell him?”

Tom looked guilty, “I did but there’s a reason. Anything big on your calendar Luke knows about so he knows what’s happen even if I’m away. That way if there’s ever a problem Luke has all the information to handle it.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

Luke wrote something on his note pad. “Just tell me when you’re leaving and I’ll leave the Instagram stuff up to you two, just give me the heads up before you post.”

Tom and nodded. I picked up the cake knife and cut us all a piece. Tom and Luke dug in.

Luke sat back in his chair, “Oh Eva it’s as good as always. So how did your hospital appointment go?”

June 2017 - London

Bad news ladies the Night Manager Actor Tom Hiddleston was spotting kissing a redhead during Lunch in London. The actor and his companion sat outside the hip 60s cafe, the ‘coffee cup’ with a golden retriever at their feet.

“Fuck. Shit, Wank. Balls!”

Tom leaned around the doorframe to the bathroom; towel round his waist and water from the shower rolled down his chest. “What?”

I looked up at him over my glasses, “We’ve been discovered.”

He ran a towel through his wet hair, “Well we’ve kept it quiet for 8 months, it was going to happen sooner or later.”

He layed down next to me and peered at the laptop resting on my knees. He looked at the pictures of us taken from a few days ago. Tom and I were sat outside our favourite lunch place on a sunny weekday, with my dog under the table. There were pictures of us talking, one of tom with his arm on the back of my chair. We both were laughing at a photo book that had come that morning.

“Well we weren’t overly clingy, just like we talked about with Luke, people won’t care. Carry on reading love.”

He stood, dropping the towel and began rummaging through the draws for his boxers. I dragged my eyes from his pert backside that many of his fans had seen in the Night Manager.

“The 36 year old star was spotted with his arm around the back of her chair, both of them laughing at a book on the table. The golden under the table sat with his head in Hiddleston’s lap. Both of them were seen discussing something from the book.

“They make us sound like we’re boring old farts.”

Tom smirked, “Keep reading.”

The presumed couple walked around Hampstead heath holding hands. Tom held onto the lead of the woman’s Dog, they retired to a bench where things got a little steamy.

I slammed shut the laptop and placed it into the bedside cupboard. “Steamy! I’ll give them fucking steamy! There were children present! I bloody hate the media!”

Clad only in his boxers Tom fell into bed next to me, “Look we knew this would happen at some point, I’m surprised we got away with it for so long.”

I sighed and took of my glasses rubbing my eyes, “I just think I was living in a dream world.”

He pulled me too him so I was resting on his chest. He was still warm from the shower. “This article is nothing. The photos are shockingly bad, no-one at work will recognize that it’s you. They won’t even recognise Ragnar, he didn’t have his harness on. Even though he’s dashingly handsome, from those pictures he looks like any other golden retriever.

I leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you.”

Tom rolled us over so he was on top, “You are very welcome.”

Tom started to kiss down my neck and chest, when his phone rang. With Luke’s ring tone. I knew that he had seen the article. I slid out from under Tom.

“Sorry lover boy, but that’s not a call I want to listen too.”

Tom flumped on the bed and groaned.

~~~~~

By the time Tom had finished on the phone I had started dinner. He was now fully dressed in lounging trousers and a marvel t-shirt. His hair had air dried and now rivaled a labradoodle, as much as he hated it, I loved his curly hair. I slid his mug down the workbench. He took a sip.

“Was it that bad?”

Tom leaned against the side, Ragnar moved to sit at his feet. “Not really, we’ve managed to keep it under wraps for ages. Luke was just happy that we got all your privacy settings sorted last month. He knows that the press will keep digging to find out who you are.”

“I’m not worried too much sweetie, things happen for a reason. We’ll see how the next couple of weeks go, You never know I might say yes to Ragnarok.”

“I spoke to Luke about that. I just wished there was something a bit smaller for you first carpet event.”

I turned to look at him, leaning against the side. The low evening light shone through the kitchen window, igniting his blonde hair into a halo. His favourite mug clutched in his hands, staring into the tea like it would give him answers. I wiped my hands on my apron and stood next to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and his arm snaked around my waist.

“Sweetie I’m not worried, we have a long while to plan. Like Luke said we can always do a press release before the premiere. Which I think would be better. As soon as people google my name, they’ll find out who I am and about all my illnesses. How about you ring luke back and ask him to pop round some time tomorrow.”

Tom nodded and kissed the top of my head, “Okay Darling. What have we got for dinner?“

I detangle myself from him and check on the pasta. "Bolognese. I found some in the freezer. He hummed in agreement, "I’ll go ring Luke then set the table.” Even though we still had our own places we spent most of the time at my place with the occasional nights at toms. It was easier to stay at mine then lug all my medical equipment to his. Being friends and lovers over the past 8 years put us at ease in each other’s company. I divided the pasta and Tom’s famous bolognese onto our two plates while Tom sliced the garlic bread. We took our seats at at the table and began to eat.

I took a sip of wine, “Was Luke okay with tomorrow?”

Tom nodded and reached for a slice of garlic bread. “He said he be round at 11. He’ll bring around some paperwork and stuff. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I sat back in my chair, “I’m sure Tom. It’s about time we took things seriously, I’m ready to start doing more events with you.

Tom smiled and patted my hand on the table.

“The only thing is Tom…”

He hummed round his mouthful of bread.

“I won’t be going to wimbledon with you.”

Tom swallowed, tipped his head back and laughed, “I wouldn’t expect you too my dear.”

Tom and I snuggled on the sofa after dinner, Ragnor at out feet. We talked about what was going to happen tomorrow, all the different way we could announce relationship. Googling how other celebrities had released their relationships. Instagram looked like a strong possibility.

We laughed how no one had spotted us at Kong: Skull Island premiere in london, simply because it started raining and under Tom’s request Luke escorted me straight into the building under a large black umbrella. So no one really got a chance to take even one photograph me. Even at the LA premiere I walked down the carpet with relative easy. Tom arrived on his own and I caught Brie’s car as I had to quick fix her dress and lend her a pair of my louboutins. Brie always has a habit of stealing my shoes, handbags and clothes. Although I was three inches taller, definitely heavier and with slightly bigger boobs, we roughly wore the same size in most things. But I couldn’t talk I borrowed brie’s designer clothes to see how the fit and fabric feel for my fashion line. The joys of being of being clothes buddy’s.

~~~~~

Tom walked around the next morning like a bloody peacock, so proud of himself for giving me heart palpitations. It didn’t happen very often and the first time that it happened in bed, Tom nearly turned grey with worry and panic. Now it just brings him great joy and satisfaction. At 11 o’clock precisely the doorbell rang and Tom buzzed Luke up, leaving the door on its latch.

Tom popped round the kitchen door. “Is there anything that needs taking out?”

I nodded to the tray with cake and china on. “Just that please, I’m just waiting for the kettle to boil.”

I heard the lift doors open and Luke’s voice calling for Tom. Tom picked up the tray and took it into the dining room, I assume collecting Luke on the way. I was nervous about today, part of me still didn’t feel ready. Another was anxious about what people would say.

I poured the hot water in the large tea pot with earl grey for Tom and Luke. I poured water into the french press for my decaf coffee. I loved coffee so much, the smell and taste. That would be because of the italian blood in me. But because of my heart condition I couldn’t drink much of the stuff and sometimes I couldn’t have it at all. Tom lovingly brought me coffee scented candles, so when I can’t have any I can still enjoy the smell.

I carried the tea pot and french press into the dining room, Tom stood took take the heavier teapot off me. Odin, my giant one eyed fluff monster, came and sat on the chair beside me. He’s partial to some cake, or any food at all. Tom had found his name hilarious when they first met, he spent the day calling him father and bowing I’m his presence. I still sometimes catch him doing it now.

Tom poured tea for him and Luke and coffee for me.

“So business first then cake?” Luke asked.

I nodded, “We talked about it last night and we think we should release something.”

“Just something small,” Tom added

“I just don’t want my presence at Thor 3 premiere to over shadow the movie. I want people talking about how much they like the movie not who Tom’s dating.”

Luke nodded and flipped through his diary and organiser. “So we have ## months to Thor. So that’s enough time to release something and have it settle down again. So what were you both thinking.”

Tom took hold of my hand on the table. “We thought instagram was good choice, not too formal. Just something to link us together.”

Luke looked at me, “anything else.”

I bit my lip. Tom knowing how I felt gave my hand a squeeze.

“I want to be out of the city when it’s released. I can’t be dealing with paparazzi and stalkers while I’m ill.”

Luke looked back at his diary. “Well Tom’s free for the next two weeks, I can’t see why not. It might do the both of you some good. A little R&R before you have to go on press tour and your new line comes out.”

I frowned and looked at Tom, “did you tell him?”

Tom looked guilty, “I did but there’s a reason. Anything big on your calendar Luke knows about so he knows what’s happen even if I’m away. That way if there’s ever a problem Luke has all the information to handle it.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

Luke wrote something on his note pad. “Just tell me when you’re leaving and I’ll leave the instagram stuff up to you two, just give me the heads up before you post.”

Tom and nodded. I picked up the cake knife and cut us all a piece. Tom and Luke dug in.

Luke sat back in his chair, “Oh Eva it’s as good as always. So how did your hospital appointment go?”

[junker-town]

Commentating the Tour de France is an Ironman sport

Inside one day of the hardest job in sports commentary.

Matthew Keenan is the fastidious one, while Robbie McEwen likes to play a little looser.

Keenan is still studying a notebook of the day’s historical landmark notes while McEwen chats with me. Keenan talks back to the production room through his mic set. They’d been having some technical difficulties.

Keenan says, “I can assure you, Robbie’s not having any problem with the fiber.”

McEwen replies, cheerfully, “Good fiber is the start of a good day.”

Keenan gets a note from the booth: “Are we on at 12, not 12:05? Huh, lucky I went to the bathroom already.”

It’s 11:57, and McEwen is explaining to me why he and Keenan work so well together.

“There was a really easy, natural flow,” he says. “I think the moment when we really clicked and everyone truly knew was our commentary of the 2016 Paris-Roubaix when Matthew Heyman won. Of course we were excited because it was a fantastic race, it was an incredible performance. But also being an Australian, also being one of his last chances of winning at Roubaix, and then winning it. I think we both had the same level of excitement and emotion.

“I think that was the moment a lot of people went, ‘This is the pair.’”

With roughly 10 seconds to go until the broadcast starts, McEwen signals that he has to focus and settles his headphones into place. There’s an issue with the monitor so they can’t see a countdown. Keenan has to begin the broadcast off the production truck’s cue while standing up and looking through a window into the neighboring broadcast booth for visuals.

”I have no pictures, I’m watching the Norwegian broadcast,” he says. Then he flips the switch that unmutes his mic for the audience and, after a beat, begins:

“After two days of racing on Belgium roads, it says farewell to the Tour de France, and on Stage 3 it heads home to France itself for the stage finish in the champagne capital of Epernay. Matthew Keenan with you ...”

For the first 40 minutes, Keenan and McEwen take turns talking back to the production truck while the other calls the race. The video feed finally comes through the monitor around 12:05, but Keenan points out that “audio is still going in and out as Robbie speaks.” At 12:09, Keenan narrates for the audience, “... rolling into the 4-kilometer start before the racing truly gets underway,” as McEwen tells the booth, “And me, I can’t hear Matt at all.” Keenan then says, “A lot of freezing as well.”

The audio mostly settles down after a half-hour of alternating from crackling, to too soft, to ear-splittingly loud. The two seem to get more comfortable after that. McEwen elongates his cadence a bit when a bearded man with tasteful plumber’s crack enters their maybe-five-foot-wide booth inside a two-story tractor trailer and has to move Keenan around to replace his fritzing personal monitor.

Ryan Siu

Robbie McEwen is a 12-time Tour de France stage winner.

After the stage, both would note that it was a particularly rough technical start, even for a sporting event that’s known for its logistical headaches.

“There was not only no picture, the sound wasn’t working, nothing worked,” McEwen says.

Keenan nods, “That was messy.”

“And when you can’t hear yourself you start to doubt that you’re even on.”

“And it throws your confidence in the way you deliver. That’s what I’ve found.”

“First two stages were no dramas,” Keenan adds.

“Because we were in Belgium.”

Yet nobody watching on television knew the extent of the problems. Only McEwen’s audio issues leaked onto the early part of the broadcast, which he found out through Twitter. Otherwise, in a testament to their calm, practice, and professionalism, it seemed to anyone listening like a routine start to a Tour broadcast.

Cycling has a keen way of dulling the stress response in both participants and anyone who tries to cover it. It’s a perfect sport to laze about to, and Keenan and McEwen have perfected a soft, jovial, cadenced Aussie banter that works on any topic.

Which is good, because early in many stages there isn’t much to talk about.

Ryan Siu

Matthew Keenan began commentating on cycling at Australian velodromes in 2003 as way to stay connected to the sport.

”I don’t think Tim Wellens could find a bigger banana to take with him on the stage today,” McEwen chimes a little after the half-hour mark. “One thing’s for certain: He’ll be getting his carbohydrates and potassium, not cramping. He’s got enough banana there to feed a family.”

”Oh, it is the original sports food,” Keenan notes. “Who needs all the packaging? And mother nature has done it best.”

Commentating the Tour de France mandates having a sense of humor, and it’s the same joviality that helps them roll with the punches. Mic problems are far from their biggest worries. The job requires long hours. Most stages are six or seven hours long, spread across 21 stages in 23 days. Keenan and McEwen were hired by the Tour’s organizers Amaury Sport Organisation (ASO, for short) to work the official English language feed, which supplies NBC Sports Gold and SBS in Australia, among others.

They work without commercial breaks, which means no prescribed bathroom breaks, either. Keenan calls that fact by far the most physically demanding part of the job.

“A man’s not a camel,” he says. “Luckily, they have a port-a-loo very close to the commentary tribune, and you know the moments where you’re not going to be able to go for a nature break. The last 30 kilometers or the last 50 kilometers, it’s out of the question. But if you’re going through a period where it’s a little bit dull, you take an opportunity and you duck out.”

If it’s a particularly important stage, Keenan will make sure he’s as dehydrated as possible before he goes into the booth, and that way he can take sips of water to keep his mouth wet without having to leave his post. As of yet, he has never missed a significant move or crash while he was out using a facility, though he knocks on wood in case he’s jinxed himself.

Wait until the pace is slow, gather the necessary supplies, find a (relatively) quiet spot & get it all done as quick you can. #whenyougottagoyougottago #everybodypoossometime

— Robbie McEwen AM (@mcewenrobbie) July 13, 2019

Keenan compares commentating cycling to an Ironman sport. Anyone would be hard-pressed to think of a harder commentary gig, a fact that Keenan takes great pride in.

“Part of the charm of the Tour de France is the physical torture of it. Just how difficult it is, how long and unrelenting it is,” Keenan says. “And I like the idea of being able to broadcast that and be a small part of it, and bring it to people from a much more comfortable seat than it is on the top of a bike.”

Listening to a broadcast gives a bad impression of where they’re sitting. By the sound of Keenan and McEwen’s dulcet jocularity, you might think they were on a veranda shooting bull over cocktails. In reality, they’re packed in a beast of a trailer that’s parked roughly 1.5 kilometers from the finish line. They’re nearly shoulder-to-shoulder in a cubicle that sits in a long row of cubicles where other broadcast teams are yammering away in their own respective tongues. The walls are covered in rough gray fabric. Behind them is a corridor that’s maybe two feet wide, just enough that anyone going through has to be careful not to bump their chairs. Which is often, because the door to the trailer opens right on them.

Tour stages usually start some time between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. local, so lunch has to happen on the fly. Shortly into the broadcast, a production assistant sneaks in and slides meals packed in covered cardboard trays under their chairs. They look good — a piece of beef, a carrot/cauliflower/broccoli mash, tomato and mozzarella salad, couscous, a piece of Brie, bread, an apricot, and zucchini.

At 12:49, a roughly minute-and-a-half ASO-produced video segment on French rider Julian Alaphilippe airs, giving the guys a brief break to scarf down their nicely-packaged meals. Keenan eats as much as he can before putting his tray back under his seat. McEwen keeps his on his lap as the segment ends. The two begin talking again, and McEwen slices into the beef as he notes that German rider Max Schachman is “having a very good season.”

Ryan Siu

The production village before Stage 3 of the 2019 Tour de France, finishing in Epernay.

Keenan is married to the job, almost literally.

“I spend about half the year in a hotel room,” he says. “My wife is hilarious; she says, ‘We’ve been married for 12 years, together for six.’”

Cycling is an almost year-round sport, and Keenan covers practically every level of it. He covers ASO’s biggest races from the ground — Paris-Nice, Paris-Roubaix, and the Vuelta a España. The rest he covers remote at the Sydney office for SBS with McEwen, including the spring classics — like, Tour de Flanders, Liège-Bastogne-Liège, and Amstel Gold — the Critérium du Dauphiné, and the World Championships.

He started calling local velodrome races in Australia in 2003 as a way to stay in the sport. He claims his cycling career wasn’t much — “I was good at raising other people’s confidence” — but he enjoyed calling the races enough to try to make it his day job. He worked with legendary commentator Phil Liggett on Australian races, and Liggett eventually introduced him to ASO. In 2007, Keenan took over commentating the first half of Tour stages by himself, before handing off to Liggett and his partner, the late Paul Sherwen.

The experience was a good test of mettle. The first half of Grand Tour stages are notoriously dull, and Keenan was all alone in the booth. The Tour’s commentary production feels surprisingly barebones, and was even more so then, Keenan says.

“I just had a 30-second countdown, and the pictures come up, and you start talking. And then I would get a 10-second warning when I was to hand it over to Phil and Paul,” Keenan says. “So I felt quite lonely. That was one of the bigger challenges, you’re out there on your own, and wondering is anybody listening.

”But as soon as you made a mistake, that’s when you found out.”

Fans would sometimes tell him to be more “conversational.”

“Well that’s difficult when you’re on your own,” Keenan laughs. “And I couldn’t understand that feedback.”

“Part of the charm of the Tour de France is the physical torture of it ... and I like the idea of being able to broadcast that.” - Matthew Keenan

But Keenan had no lack of enthusiasm, and was willing to do the homework necessary to buff out any rough edges. Liggett and Sherwen were instrumental in both his and McEwen’s careers, which Keenan felt was remarkable given how competitive the industry can be, and how few opportunities there are to commentate the highest level of the sport.

He took pointers from them. For the Tour, Liggett and Sherwen used a database that they updated together throughout the season with notes about every rider. Now, Keenan keeps his own database that he deliberately refuses to fill with race results. He fills it with color, instead — riders’ personal and family histories, injuries, anecdotes. Keenan is obsessed with a well-composed broadcast.

”I used to put a note on the TV monitor — and it’s just ingrained now — but the first dot was ‘add value to the pictures,’” he says. “So don’t tell people what they’re seeing, but why they’re seeing it.

“Dot point No. 2 was ‘let it breathe.’ Sometimes it’s better just to be quiet and hear the crowd cheering from the side of the road. And the third dot point was ‘light and shape.’ Look for some variety. You can’t be serious all the time, you can’t have the same tone of voice all the time.”

Liggett and Sherwen were the two best mentors he could hope for. The two worked together for 33 years as the voices of the Tour de France. To English-speaking fans, their voices sounded like cycling, and it’s hard not to catch the same iconic cadences while listening to Keenan and McEwen. Like when the riders cross over from Belgium in Stage 3 and Keenan announces, with measured whimsy:

“And Robbie …”

Pause.

“... The Tour de France …”

Pause again.

“... is in France.”

Sherwen passed away in his sleep last December, and his absence is acutely felt in the technical village, where broadcast crews from all over the world set up each day to cover the Tour. Inside the SBS production truck before Stage 3, producers reminisce about what he meant to them and the Tour. Jan — who works for Free Lens, a French independent audiovisual production company that SBS partners with for every Tour de France — says that Sherwen took care to get to know them, that “he knew that it was a production. He was with the crew.”

Catherine Whelan, SBS’ head of sports programming, says one of Sherwen’s best qualities was that he was interested in everyone, and that when he passed, stories about his generosity came from an overwhelming number of people, “not knowing that so many other people had these beautiful connections with him.”

“Our team, we still think, ‘he’s going to turn up.’ But that’s not the case,” Whelan says. “Everyone was affected very deeply. And the thing about Paul was everyone felt special to him, because he made everyone feel special.”

Ryan Siu

Outside the SBS production trailer before Stage 3 of the 2019 Tour de France.

Ryan Siu

Inside the SBS production trailer before Stage 3 of the 2019 Tour de France.

Keenan calls Sherwen the most influential mentor he’s had in commentating.

“One of the great things that I learned from Paul is, everybody makes mistakes,” he says. “You will deal with critics. But just remember that you’re the one that’s in the chair. Back yourself, and don’t try and be anybody else. Just try and be the first version of you, not the second version of somebody else.”

McEwen and Keenan became a team in 2015, calling the spring classics together in Sydney. McEwen is an all-time great sprint cyclist, winning 12 individual stages in both the Tour and Giro d’Italia, as well as two national road race championships across a 16-year professional career. He too worked his way up in the profession, at first doing spot segments, and then excelling enough to become a color commentator.

Like Sherwen did, McEwen analyzes every stage from the mindset of a racer — something he’s particularly suited fo, having a reputation as an undersized and tactical rider. He says that if not for Sherwen, “I probably wouldn’t be doing this today.”

“I enjoy it,” McEwen says. “I really like analyzing the race. I like following the action and commenting on it. It’s kind of like a game.”

“And he’s awesome at it,” Keenan adds. “He was really bad on Stage 1. He said the breakaway would get caught with 10K to go. It got caught with 9.6.”

Through working with Sherwen and Liggett in the past, and with Keenan now, McEwen says he’s learned “a helluva lot.”

“Not about what I should say, because I have my own idea of what I want to say about the race, and what I’m looking at,” McEwen says. “But more how broadcast works, and then fitting into a team that was an established team who didn’t need a third wheel. And then along with that how commentary really works to make it flow.”

SBS’ decision in 2017 to give their primary Tour call to Keenan and McEwen after three decades of Liggett and Sherwen incited backlash in Australia, but neither pair felt any apparent animosity. Sherwen, Keenan says, kept up a daily tradition, in which he’d drop a handful of peanut M&Ms on Keenan’s desk and silently walk away as Keenan sat prepping. Keenan would only see the hand.

“The M&Ms? I can get anywhere,” Keenan says. “But the hand I can’t ever get back.”

Keenan and McEwen’s partnership perhaps shouldn’t work as well as it does. And not just because they have clashing personality traits. Spending hours upon hours per day with the same person in close quarters for three weeks — no matter who that person is — would crack most people.

Including driving, the two sit two feet away from each other upwards of 10 hours a day, breathing each other’s air and cataloging each other’s tics.

Yet they claim that their relationship was fairly simple from the start. They didn’t spend much time spelling out ground rules, really. Just one:

“The night before our first Tour de France commentating together, we had dinner, and [Robbie] says, ‘OK Keen-o, I need you to know, I don’t do schedules,’” Keenan says. “[I said,] ‘Well, the race is going to start at a certain time.’”

Driving worked itself out fairly quickly. Unlike the riders, Keenan and McEwen don’t have lux buses to escort them 2,000-plus miles to and from host towns all around France.

“In terms of somebody to travel with, I do the driving if we’re on big highways and it’s going to be an easy evacuation,” Keenan says. “But Robbie doesn’t have the patience for my patience when we’re in the mountains. So if it’s a tricky evacuation, Robbie’s the one that drives, and that probably saves us about an hour each night.”

They do find ways to carve out personal space. The best time is in the morning before each stage, when both try to sneak in exercise. Keenan will alternately go for a run one day, and do three sets of the seven-minute workout circuit on YouTube the next. McEwen rides as many kilometers of the end of each stage as he can, which doubles as reconnaissance for when he commentates the finish.

Sometimes McEwen pulls up to the booth just minutes before the broadcast, which occasionally bites the team.

“[Sometimes] we start punching each other ... we’ve both come home with bruises.” - Robbie McEwen

“There was one day our first year together, [Robbie] had to do a corporate ride beforehand. Because the ride went slower than expected, he got in about an hour and a half after I’d started,” Keenan says. “So the boring part of the stage … and he comes in smelling like someone that had a long shower, and he’s got the aftershave on, with a plate of food in front of him, and passes me a note saying, ‘hunger flat.’”

“He sat there for the next 15 minutes and ate lunch in front of me without commentating. It was just brilliant.”

Finding something endearing in each other’s foibles is a big reason Keenan and McEwen work so well together.

“There’s so much respect there,” Whelan says. “Matt has so much respect for Robbie as the champion racer that he is. Robbie has so much respect for Matt because he understands how hard the job is that he does. Matt is like a teacher and a mentor to him as well.”

Racing heats up with 50 kilometers to go in Stage 3. As the Tour’s publicity caravan — a parade of branded floats that goes out ahead of the riders every day — roars past the booth blasting top-40 electronic music, Keenan and McEwen are dug in, leaning forward to try to pick out on the monitor who is positioning themselves in the peloton to chase down the breakaway.

Belgian rider Tim Wellens makes a solo move out of the break and Keenan’s voice goes with him, crescendoing in volume and pace. Keenan lifts out of his seat and points at the screen, though the gesture won’t be seen by anyone. With under 43 kilometers to go, he stands up slightly and wiggles his hips to imitate Russian rider Ilnur Zakarin’s riding style, and at the same time knocks his cell phone charger off the desk.

Keenan is excellent at orchestrating with his voice. He reacts quickly to the action, and just as quickly downshifts when needed — sometimes within the same sentence. He sees Belgian rider Oliver Naesen pull up and shouts into the mic, “THIS IS A MECHANICAL FOR OLIVER NAESEN …” then immediately hits the brakes when he sees it’s a false alarm, saying in staccato rhythm, “... and he does. not. panic.”

With 30 kilometers to go, Keenan and McEwen fist-bump for the first time. The stage is turning out to be a firecracker. Wellens is still at the front, and though his chances of winning the stage seem slim, McEwen predicts that he can still take the next summit to earn King of the Mountains points if he has a minute and 30 seconds on the peloton.

Even in the midst of the action, they keep the quips up.

“That is the Abbey of Saint-Pierre,” Keenan says. “That is in fact the place where Dom Pérignon passed away in September of 1715.”

“The man who didn’t invent, but maybe perfected champagne,” McEwen says.

“The marketing of it,” Keenan adds.

With 16 kilometers to go, Keenan notes that Slovakian rider and cycling bad boy Peter Sagan, one of the pre-stage favorites, is looking comfortable, then he grabs McEwen’s shoulders and gives him a shake. The two began the day sitting a comfortable distance from each other, but have inched closer and closer over the last 34 kilometers, until their shoulders are nearly touching.

“[Sometimes] we start punching each other,” McEwen says after the stage. “We’ve both come home with bruises.”

With 15.7 kilometers to go, Alaphilippe, the French rider, bursts from the peloton and quickly catches Wellens to become the stage leader, and Keenan and McEwen are practically in each other’s laps. Keenan announces, “This is panache!” with a hard Aussie accent on the French pronunciation of the last syllable as osh. Their coordination becomes a wonder to behold.

They swear they never practice nonverbal communication, yet they never talk over each other, having developed a sense of the verbal cues that tell them when they can and can’t cut in. At 12.3 kilometers to go, Keenan rushes forward to say something, but cedes to McEwen.

The two have an entire language of hand signals. For example, while McEwen is talking with 3.1 kilometers to go, Keenan silently points to Alaphilippe’s on-screen time gap to the peloton and widens his hands to say to McEwen that Alaphilippe’s lead had just grown by a few seconds.

Just before the final turn, McEwen calls Alaphilippe’s move a “masterpiece.” It’s clear that no one will catch Alaphilippe on the stage, but he’s gunning for the yellow jersey as the overall race leader. Keenan makes the call, “to the cheers of the crowd, he looks across the shoulder. He’s racing for every second. With a bit of bobble in his legs, he’s had a spring in his step. And it’s Alaphilippe who wins!”

Alaphilippe needed 16 seconds to take over the maillot jaune. He gets 25, and McEwen says, “In-croyable from Julian Alaphilippe … he laid his cards on the table and said, ‘come and get me if you can --’”

Then he stops himself short. The cameras cut to Alaphilippe tearfully hugging a teammate, and Keenan throws his right hand up in a “pause” motion. For the next eight seconds, they let the picture speak for itself.

[justcallmebeau-blog]

Para || Birthday Dinner

WHO: Beau & @anabellebeauregard WHEN: 2/27/2017 WHERE: Empty classroom WHAT: In lieu of going hiking for Beau’s birthday since the snow storm made it difficult, Anabelle and Beau have an indoor picnic in an empty classroom that quickly goes very, very wrong. 

Belle: "I can't say it enough that I'm over the snow. It's on my list, for screwing up the surprise." Belle laid out the checkered blanket on the floor of the old storage room, surrounded by painted set pieces. It wasn't a ton of space but it suited their purposes, and being around so many brightly painted trees was almost kind of the same as a hike. "I'll make it up to you though. As soon as it's Spring, we'll go on the awful 10 mile hike up the mountain or something." She set the honest-to-goodness picnic basket down on the blanket and sat beside it, pulling Beau down with her and kissing him quickly with a smile. "I made sandwiches. Because I didn't want to kill you."

Beau snorted as he stretched out beside her, squeezing her hand as she backed away from a barely-there kiss. "Yeah, being stranded indoors wasn't my favorite thing, and Martin left Saturday night so I was out of company but didn't want to risk the roads myself," he grumbled, a little irritated himself even though the weekend had still been fun. "You say awful, but we'll find someplace to skinny dip or a spot where we've got to stop and create and it'll make it all worth it." Beau's teasing was such an easy thing, almost as easy as the way he curled up against her. "Yeah, that'd have made an awful birthday present. Honestly? This might be more fun than hiking. View's still beautiful."

Belle: Laying down with him after retrieving sandwiches, wine, and plastic cups from the basket, Belle smiled as she settled down with him. They hadn't had much time between classes since valentines day, other than the previous week's marathon napping session, and so much had happened that Belle felt like it had been a year since they'd really talked. "I have to agree. You're better than a waterfall," she said, punctuation the cheesy line with a grin and another kiss, this one lingering a second longer. "Skinny dipping sounds amazing. Cold, though. You sure your manhood can handle shriveling up in a cold mountain spring?"

Beau was so tired. How had the snow drained him so much? Maybe it was being holed away somewhere that wasn't his studio that had drained him of his energy, but he'd perked up pretty quickly at seeing Belle. "You're better than the cityscape," he agreed, nodding firmly and tucking her tighter against his side, grinning against her lips and brushing her hair back with both hands. "You think my manhood would be affected? No, I know I'm not immune, but my manhood is firmly in place. Several times over." The wine had caught his eye, but he was waiting for her before going for any. "How have you been, sweetheart? Been a while since we've gotten to talk."

Belle: "I think even your illustrious manhood might take a hit or two by dunking it in freezing water. You know most of the rivers up there are snow runoff, right?" Laughing at the thought of him trying to skinny dip like that. Without a doubt she'd follow him into it in solidarity but she wouldnt like it. "I've been good. Better than a couple of weeks ago." It had been long enough since things went pear-shaped that she didn't feel as weird talking to him about it, brushing the tips of their noses together. "Things were - are - weird with Martin. I think I...I don't know, I think I got close and made things weird for him, maybe? It's fine, I'm fine, that was just why I was a little weird the other week, I guess."

Beau "You know skinnydipping in ice cold water was a routine part of my childhood, right? My manhood might've shrunk, but only literally," he said with a smirk, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Even did it in front of a few girls I liked, and a few guys but they sympathized a little more." His hands went naturally down to her waist and he nuzzled into Belle, keeping her close when the conversation turned serious. "Maybe? Don't let it get to you too much, sweet cheeks, I know he's an awesome guy but you're an awesome lady and you know it. Not everyone meshes together and all you can do is move on from it."

Belle: "It's been a while since you were a child, and I happen to know that you love a warm beach with a sea that feels like bathwater." The simple way Beau said it, that not everyone meshes, made her feel more comfortable about the whole thing than she had all month. She nuzzled him back, pressing her face against his neck and smiling. "I know and I'm working on it. The moving on part, anyway. Not in a dark corner with my photography professor, this time. Although, arguably, an abandoned storage room is a little bit more tempting," she laughed, kissing the spot just below his jaw before sitting up to distribute wine. It felt like a conversation that deserved wine. She poured some in one of the little plastic cups, handing it to him before pouring her own. "Ham and cheese, tuna salad, or brie and salmon?”

Beau sprawled out alongside Belle, enjoying the way they always managed to fit together like they'd not had any time apart. It was one of the best parts of their friendship in his opinion that no matter how long they went without seeing each other it always felt easy. "There's very little better than being able to almost burn your ass on a too-hot beach," he said solemnly, smile popping through. "If we didn't have to risk someone busting in I'd tell you temptation was futile, but there don't seem to be a lot of safe spaces on campus." The way his stomach was growling proved her choices wonderful, though he was amused that brie and salmon were alongside the others. "Ham and cheese? I'll be happy to help you set up. Whatever you need, darling."

Belle: His smile made her smile, she couldn't help it. It had always been that way, even when she'd catch the rare glimpse of a promotional photo of him where he was giving one of his trademark grins to the camera. "Pretty sure this door has a lock on it. Who would think twice about a locked storage room during a snowstorm?" She pulls the sandwiches from the basket, placing them on napkins. It certainly wasn't up to Mal's standards, but she figured the effort counted when she actually made them herself instead of buying or begging the food off of someone else. "All I need is for you to sit there and look gorgeous. Mission accomplished." Handing him his sandwich half she leaned down to steal another kiss. Guilt twisted in her stomach. She wasn't used to lying to him and, no matter how she rationalized it, it felt like a lie not to be completely honest with him. She sat up and cleared her throat, trying to appear nonchalant. "Mal and I have been spending a lot of time together since Valentine's day. I guess things sort of blew up with him and the girl he was seeing."

Beau 's grin only got wider at the way Belle managed to find a way to allow things. To put logic behind their more impulsive of thoughts. "You're sounding more like me by the day, love, though I'm having to behave by the rules more and more lately." It was a spread he wasn't used to having unless he was around one of the culinary students - or teachers - and to say that he was proud would have been an understatement. Especially knowing where Belle's skills had been not even six months ago. "Says the woman who could make a Greek god bow down to his knees," Beau said smoothly, not even needing his trademark smirk when he had genuine words to spread in front of him. The kisses soothed the strangeness that had been surrounding him recently... just to have it kicked back up and rising in his throat at Belle's words. "What do you mean when you say you've been seeing a lot of each other? Sexually? Romantically? Or do you just want to warn me you're officially friends with the second closest thing I have to an ex?"

Belle: The comfort she'd been starting to feel was immediately brought to a halt as he got defensive over her words. Anxiety curled in her stomach and she did her best to ignore it. "Sexually, I guess would be the qualifier, but we've been friends since before that." One of her hands pushed back through her hair, drawing the long tresses over one shoulder. She wasn't sure what else to do with them besides go back to holding him, maybe try to rewind the conversation two minutes and start over. "We're not telling anyone about it, but I asked if I could tell you, since...Well." Belle tipped her little plastic cup back and drank down the wine in it. This was more difficult than she'd even imagined it would be, when she'd stupidly been thinking that there was nothing that could come between her and Beau, except apparently herself. "I'm sorry. I don't know what he means to you but he means something and it bothered you when...when you thought it happened but it didn't, and then I slept with him anyway. I can't...I'm not making excuses here. I'm just sorry."

Beau felt his stomach curl up even more and it took everything Beau had not to leave right then and there, though his discomfort and frustration turned quickly to anger the more Belle talked. "I don't give two fucks about who you're friends with, Belle. You know that." The pause was almost tangible, and it took him a moment to compose his thoughts. "That makes it worse, Anabelle. You ​knew​. You fucking knew and didn't care enough to think that through before doing it. You know I don't care who you sleep with, not normally, but if I knew you were emotionally compromised over someone I would fucking never sleep with them because that breaks every fucking code in every fucking book in every fucking country." He took another deep breath, not sure how to feel. It felt ridiculous to be so upset over this, especially since Beau had no intention of doing anything with any buried.... anything, but he was hurt. It had nothing to do with Mal and everything to do with Belle. "Yeah, I've got to go. Thanks for the food. Enjoy fucking Mal. Don't worry, I'm done with all of it. I’m too old for this shit." With that he grabbed his bag and with a quick look walked out the door.