#even just as an outside observer of it. mostly my weddings are good but sometimes it's a bit

[gowns]

a wedding can be a celebration of love. it can also be an awkward public demonstration of how a couple perceives themselves vs how other people perceive them. and if there's a disconnect there... yikes

[pillage-and-lute]

(For next time you’re looking for prompts) I really like your writing, and when I thought of this I wondered what you’d do with it: Geralt and Jaskier are together, but agree to pretend not to be for their next stop. Maybe one of them wants to win an old bet, or Jaskier’s not 100% sure his betrothal to a local noble has been officially dissolved, whatever, (not homophobia), fluff and high jinx ensue. Anyway I hope something unexpectedly nice happens to you today.

Hi Dahliavandare! Thanks for the blessing in my inbox  🥰

This ran away from me, tons of backstory about Jaskier’s family. Just, way too much.

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“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “I have an errand we need to run, and I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Geralt hummed noncommittally. They were resting at their camp outside of Hagge and the warm summer air and the feeling of Jaskier curled against him had lulled him into a warm, fuzzy stupor.

“You see,” Jaskier continued, fiddling with the buttons at his cuffs. “I’m a noble, and you know that of course.” He laughed awkwardly. “And I’ve been lucky enough to pawn most of those responsibilities off onto my much savvier sister, but there are certain niceties that landed families observe that--”

“Spit it out,” Geralt grumbled, although not bad naturedly. 

“I’m betrothed,” Jaskier said. “And we need to go to Gwendeith to break it off.”

Geralt turned to look at his beloved. “You’re engaged?”

“Betrothed!” Jaskier yelped, then saw Geralt’s expression. “Oh, dear heart, there’s a slight difference in meaning, especially to nobles. Engaged implies an intent to marry--”

“And betrothed doesn’t?”

“Well, sort of, but I’ve been betrothed practically since I was born, engaged would imply I’m sort of planning the wedding. It’s a contract, a social contract. My family and my betrothed’s are pretty minor nobles, so really it’s just a way of saying ‘maybe someday our kids could marry’. It isn’t the hard and fast marriage it might be if I were, say, a prince.”

“Then why do it?” Geralt asked. Most of the time he was happy to understand as little of the lives of the gentry as possible, but Jaskier was important.

“Honestly,” Jaskier sighed. “I think Papa arranged it because he cared for me, Mama too.”

“It takes away your choice,” Geralt began.

“It doesn’t. A betrothal like mine and... Iliana, that’s her name, only met her twice, it’s sort of social insurance. Especially for her, but for me as well. Nobles are supposed to marry, so, if at some point neither of us had found love we could marry one another. For Iliana there’s the security of having a husband, although from what I’ve heard she can handle herself fine, and for me its assurance of heirs if that sort of thing concerned me, and companionship for us both.”

It sounded...mostly sort of logical to Geralt.

“But I love you,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t want to be betrothed to anyone because I love you and, someday, whenever you get over you allergy to the concept of commitment, I’m going to put a ring on you.”

Geralt hummed gruffly but said nothing. There was a slim golden band hidden away in his bags and he be damned if Jaskier got to propose first.

“I will. Anyway, I need to tell Iliana. I’m sure she won’t mind. I met her once when I was seven and again when I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen, when?” Geralt asked. Most of Jaskier’s nineteenth year had been spent at Geralt’s side. Most of every year after that too.

“Just before I met you. I had travelled east to meet her originally, and was going back west when we met.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Illiana? Oh, well, she told me that she was fine leaving the betrothal in place because it’s standard, but that she doesn’t care for men in that way so she’d never give me heirs and would have my balls nailed above her door if I ever told her she had to.”

“Sounds like she’d get along with Yen.”

“I fear they’d take over the world,” Jaskier said. “Anyway, I told her no worries since, honestly, heirs just aren’t important to me. Then we agreed that when either of us found love we’d break the betrothal and that would be that.”

“Hmmm.”

“No, Geralt, tell me what that means. Is that a ‘okay, let’s go to Gwendeith’ hum? A ‘I’m angry that you’re betrothed’ hum?”

Geralt shifted to poke the fire. “It’s a ‘I think there’s more you need to tell me’ hum.”

“Ah,” Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. We have to go in person because a letter would be rude, but also...we have to pretend not to be together, while we’re in Gwedeith.”

“Why?”

“It’s politics, dear heart. It would be shaming to Iliana, socially. Personally, I don’t think she’d care, but it’s a courtesy thing.”

“I don’t do a lot of lovey stuff anyway,” Geralt said. 

“You think you don’t,” Jaskier said. He began to unroll their bedroll.

“What do you mean, Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned to him, smiling indulgently and gilded in the firelight. “Our lives have molded around one another, my love. When I stand beside you your hand goes to my back or my shoulder. You order dinner for me because you know just what food I like. When I’m tired you don’t have to ask what’s wrong, you just lift me onto Roach behind you.”

Geralt hadn’t even realized he did, but he knew it was true. Jaskier leaned over and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s slightly furrowed brow.

“When my boots are wearing thin you buy me new ones before I even notice. When I’m cold you give me your cloak. If I fall asleep with my head on your shoulder you’d rather sit like that all night than disturb me.”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “You buy me beeswax,” he said. It seemed a fair retort. Jaskier bought him beeswax to put in his ears when cities or sometimes monsters were too loud for Geralt’s senses. “You only buy light scents, even though I know you like bolder perfumes.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, taking one of Geralt’s large, scarred hands. “We love eachother very much, and it’s obvious to people who care to look.”

“That could be dangerous,” Geralt began, his head spiralling towards worry for Jaskier’s safety, but Jaskier cut him off.

“No, dear heart. It’s obvious to those who care to look. The sort of people who would hurt me for loving you, well, most of them think you can’t love, so they don’t look for love, and they don’t see.” 

Geralt sat back. People saw what they expected to see, it was true. 

“We’ll travel to Gwendeith,” he said. “And unbetroth you.”

Jaskier kissed him and his lips tasted like the jerky they’d eaten for supper.

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

The trip to Gwendeith was long. It was at the very edge of any map, past Posada to the east, tucked into the Blue mountains.  They traveled along the Dyfne river, taking the occasional contract but making good time. This far from anything, there were few people to be troubled by monsters. 

They stopped in Posada one night, eating dinner in the corner of a familiar tavern. This time, however, Jaskier was much better received and the bread ended up on the table rather than down his trousers.

Past Posada, and almost to the end of the Dyfne river, Geralt asked, “Why did your parents pick Iliana? How did they know of her?” Lettenhove was entirely the other side of the continent, a tiny island off the coast of Poviss with two villages and a couple flocks of sheep. 

Geralt only knew of it from Jaskier’s descriptions, which were mostly stories of the ice cold sea and rocky cliffs. He tended toward calling it ‘idyllic’ and ‘picturesque’ altough occassionally ‘the arse end of the world’ and ‘colder than an ice giant’s ballsack.’ The first time Geralt had taken Jaskier to Kaer Morhen he’d feared for his bard’s safety in the cold of the mountains, but Jaskier hadn’t even blinked an eye, merely bundling up in a hugely wooly cloak and mittens. 

“Ah, well,” Jaskier said. “Long story, but Papa was in Temeria, see, since nothing ever happens in Lettenhove, because we have more people than sheep, he get’s sent on diplomatic missions a lot. He’s good at it, and he can be spared. He loves it too, even though he’s sort of retired he still does them. Takes Ma, calls the trips his little “sunshine vacations”. 

“You get your personality from your father, then?” Geralt asked. Jaskier didn’t talk about his family much, and Geralt got the sense that, rather than this being because they were horrible, Jaskier simply missed them too much. 

“Definitely. Ma’s lovely, and brilliant with just everything to do with her hands, but she’s not good with people. I got her looks, though.”

“I should thank her, then,” Geralt said, smiling. 

Jaskier chuckled. “Yes, she’s the reason for the long lives, too, fantastic story.”

“Finish the one about your father and Gwendeith first.”

“Right, so Papa was in Temeria, and so was Iliana’s father, sort of the mayor of Gwendeith, as I understand, although not back then. He’d gotten robbed, though, and Papa had won a horse and quite a lot of gold in a card game. It might have been Gwent, I can’t remember. If you ever meet Papa you should ask him. Anyway, he gave the extra horse and gold to Iliana’s father.”

“So your betrothal was a debt?”

“Goodness, no. This was years before I was born, Papa hadn’t even met Ma yet. No, they struck up a friendship, because when Iliana’s father got home he had a mage send a message to Papa to thank him and they struck up a friendship.”

“Sending messages by mage? That’s expensive for a penpal.”

“Ah well, that actually ties in to the story about Ma. Ma’s got magic, just a little, she’s a hedge witch of a sort. The issue is, hedge witches mostly use plants, and Ma couldn’t grow grass, so she mostly works with wood. Anyway, she has a friend, her very best friend, is a mage. They grew up together, and my Auntie Szarlotta sent my Papa’s first few messages back to Iliana’s father.”

Geralt smiled atop Roach. Jaskier’s storytelling pace was as familiar as Roach’s saddle, and it was calming in a way. 

“So, Auntie was sending Papa’s message when Ma came in to visit. That’s how she met Papa, because she’d only just moved to Lettenhove. Auntie says it was love at first sight, but Papa insists that Ma turned up her nose and ignored him for months.”

“Which one is it?”

“Knowing Ma, probably both. She’s a little like you, so the second she realized she liked Papa she ignored him so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Geralt huffed good-naturedly.

“Anyway, Auntie Szarlotta agreed to send Papa’s messages for free, and she even included a way for Iliana’s father to send them back, so long as he wrote his response on the back of the same paper. She always timed it though, so that Ma was over when Papa was there. And I guess the rest is history.”

“Except the immortality.”

“Right, well, Ma got really sick when she was pregnant with my sister, I was little so I barely remember but Papa was so worried, and Ma looked really pale. Well, Auntie got really worried, freaked out a little, and she found all these old spells to try to make Ma well again. I remeber the light, she was working in a room of the old lighthouse and I could see the light of her spells from my window. Anyway, eventually she tries some on Ma, but they don’t work, and she just keeps trying.”

Geralt had an image of a frantic sorceress being watched by a young Jaskier through a crack in a door. 

“But I suppose some of those old spells need a little time to work because nothing at all worked and then they all sort of worked at once. There was this big, bright light and then Ma was well, and she and Papa haven’t aged a day since then.”

Geralt glanced at his lover, who looked the same at fifty as he had at twenty. “And you don’t age? What about your sister?”

“Ksenia hasn’t aged either. She looks like Papa, just so you know, grey eyes, blonde hair. She’s got two kids, now, but I haven’t met them.”

“Do the kids age?”

“Right now they’re very young,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t stop aging until nineteen or twenty, so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

“How do you know she has kids?”

“Oh, well, Auntie Szarlotta sends letters to me, but we travel and it’s hard to send them right to me, so I just pick them up at Oxenfurt.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. He needed to go to Lettenhove. Jaskier had met his sort-of-family, he should meet Jaskier’s. 

“I’d love to go see them...” Jaskier said, wistfully. 

“Who?”

“My niece and nephew, they’re almost two and three years old now.”

Geralt picked Jaskier up by the collar of his doublet and placed him onto the back of Roach. 

“We’ll spend the winter in Lettenhove this year,” he said as Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist.

“Really?”

“Hmmm.”

Geralt needed to ask Jaskier’s father for his hand in marriage, anyway.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

They made it to Gwendeith just after mid summer, riding into the little town at noon. Despite the season, the little mountain valley was shaded and cool. Jaskier shivered slightly and Geralt had to resist the urge to pull his cloak from his pack. From that point forth, they weren’t supposed to be in love.

Fuck.

They had to request a meeting with the mayor, which didn’t surprise Geralt. In a town such as this, logging and mining were the main industries. Trading for food to last over the winter began early and was of the utmost importance. That left Geralt and Jaskier, unfortunately, sitting with a man who introduced himself as Sir Boris.

Apparently he was a retired knight who acted as a sort of captain of the guard, except there wasn’t much of a guard. His wife Lady Olenka joined them and the two of them talked about their grandchildren until Geralt could feel his eyes rolling back in his head. 

At any other time, Jaskier would have placed one gentle hand on his wrist, which would have fortified Geralt, but they couldn’t. 

“But you’re here for Iliana,” Sir Boris was saying. “Dreadfully sorry you can’t see her today, I’m afraid there’s been an issue with the lumber trade to sort out. You’ll just have to have my darling Lenka and I as company until that’s done.”

He sent a huge wink to his wife, a slim, elegant woman, who chuckled and playfully hit him on the shoulder, to which Sir Boris pretended to be wounded before throwing back his head and laughing hugely. Everything the old knight did was huge, he was a large man with a round, red face and large belly and a laugh that could shake walls. 

“It’s no trouble,” Jaskier said. “I’m sure preparing for winter is a year round project here.”

“Oh of course,” Lady Olenka said. “But once it’s here we can all relax, and spend time with family.” She leaned forward as if imparting a delightful secret and said in a stage-whisper, “Boris has been our town’s Father Winter for the last four years.”

Jaskier made impressed ‘ooh’ noises and Geralt tried to at least look like he understood that. 

Boris laughed again. “It’s this lot,” he said, slapping his round stomach. “Better than some old geezer with a pillow down his shirt, eh?”

Geralt hummed in agreement. 

“And you must make a lovely Mother Winter, Lady Olenka,” Jaskier said politely.

She smiled, lines crinkling around her eyes as if drawing a road map. “It’s not as important as Father Winter, of course, but I rather pride myself that I plan a very good Midwinter festival.” Geralt got the sense that behind the modesty she was quite proud, and, he suspected, with good reason.

“But, you must tell me,” she said, modestly changing the subject. “Is there to be a missus Pankratz, now that you’ve come to see Lady Iliana?”

“I am a man in love,” Jaskier said. “And I am hopeful that an engagement will come soon, yes.”

“Oh dearie that’s just lovely,” Lady Olenka said, patting Jaskier’s cheek. “And you’re such a nice boy too, little young looking to be betrothed to our Lady Iliana anyway, although she’s a very dear woman.”

“We just love her,” Sir Boris said. “She’s a great mayor, not keen on marriage, but nobody minds, she just seems to have adopted the whole town as family.”

Lady Olenka patted her husband’s broad shoulder. “It was smart of you not to bring your love here, though. There’s some nobles here from Lyria, that’s who she’s been trading with, and I think they’d like any excuse to disparage here.” She lowered her voice again. “You know how those lot are about having women in charge.”

“I can’t relate,” Sir Boris laughed. “Lenka’s the ruler in our house.” That got a laugh because it had to, and because Sir Boris’s laugh was surprisingly infectious. 

“Good on you bringing a bodyguard too,” he said once the laughter had abated. He slapped Geralt companionably on the back, which was like being hit by a friendly battering ram. “Witcher too, don’t get many up here, but I bet you’re the safest man in a hundred miles.”

“Oh, dear, don’t you know?” Lady Olenka said. “Lord Julian here is a bard as well, he goes by Jaskier and sings all about witchers.”

“Really?” Sir Boris said, looking at Jaskier. “Blimey, imagine that. Good on you, finding a niche in the market.”

Geralt’s ears were beginning to ache. Friendly though Sir Boris might be, he didn’t seem to have a volume level below ‘deafening’. He was tired and overwrought and he just wanted to cuddle up with Jaskier in a bed. It wasn’t even suppertime, though.

They sat through another hour of hearing about Boris and Olenka’s eighteen grandchildren. 

“And three great-grandchildren,” Boris added proudly.

Geralt was thankful Jaskier could carry the conversation. He longed for a kiss, though. Now that he knew he couldn’t have one, his lips fairly ached for one.

Supper was a large affair, with one of Boris and Olenka’s children’s family over for dinner as well. Geralt was seated across from Jaskier between two small children who, apparently, needed to be separated at dinertimes to prevent bickering. They contented themselves instead by asking Geralt every question they could think of, often making him wrack his brain for child appropriate answers.

It wasn’t just witchering questions, either. He answered such questions as “Why is the sky blue?” (Because it’s Melitele’s favorite color). Immediately before answering “How big are dragon scales?” (The small ones are like pebbles and the big ones are like shields.)

Jaskier smiled at him over his bowl of stew, eyes sparkling. Geralt loved children, and Jaskier loved seeing them adore Geralt.

“So, Lord Julian,” Boris and Olenka’s daughter began. “Your lady love, tell us about her?” She smiled Lady Olenka’s warm smile and Jaskier did a good show of seeming bashful. 

“My love is unlike any other,” he began. “And if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’m a poet, and so must wax poetic.”

“Wouldn’t settle for anything less, lad!” Boris bellowed cheefully.

“My darling has fair hair, like moonlight,” Jaskier said, and the table oohed appreciatively. Geralt felt his ears get hot.

“And eyes like summer,” the bard continued. “I could get lost in them. No eyes could compare.” Geralt kicked him under the table, but Olenka was sighing sympathetically.

“But of course,” Jaskier said slyly, my heart is best held by my love’s lips.”

Boris chuckled knowingly. “I’ll bet it is, my boy,” he said, winking. Olenka slapped his arm, but she was smiling. Geralt felt hot.

“I’m afraid, however that my lover is quite modest, and won’t appreciate me extolling too many virtues,” Jaskier finished. “So I must finish with, I love them very much, and it is for them alone that my heart beats.”

Therewith leaving every person at the table (those above the age of twelve, at least) with misty eyes, Jaskier helped Lady Olenka clean up supper. Geralt helped put the dishes away.

After dinner they were led back to the mayor’s house. “I’m afraid the negotiations don’t seem to be finished,” Lady Olenka said. “I had hoped they would be quick, but it seems not. If the issue wasn’t resolved today, I wouldn’t bet on them being resolved too early tomorrow, either. You two don’t have pressing business elsewhere?”

“No, my lady,” Jaskier said, although if they lingered too long they wouldn’t make it to Lettenhove for the winter, as it was, it would be close.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to see you soon,” the lady said. “Here’s your room, and Master Witcher, your room is just at the far end of the hall.”

She said goodnight and Geralt hoped she couldn’t see the slump of his shoulders.

Separate rooms.

Jaskier smiled ruefully at him and they parted for the night. Geralt’s bed was large and comfortable, with clean linens and feather pillows, but he barely got a wink of sleep.

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

The next morning found Jaskier and Geralt breakfasting in the tavern, owned, apparently, by another of Boris and Olenka’s grown children.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaskier whispered over a plate of sausage and eggs.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink,” Jaskier said. “Want my last piece of bacon? I’m stuffed.”

Geralt took it gratefully, slipping Jaskier his fried slice as a trade. No matter how Jaskier protested that he was stuffed, he always had room for a fried slice.”

“Terrible woman,” said a nasal voice at the next table. “Just impossible to do business with.”

“I agree, overemotional, you know how they get,” agreed another voice. Jaskier made eye contact with Geralt. The accent was Lyrian.

“Not even married,” said the first speaker. “What a disgrace. If my daughter got to her age without children I’d just die of shame.”

Geralt pitied his daughter.

“Oh of course,” said the second man. “Attractive, though, for an old maid.”

The first man snickered cruelly. “Thinking a little wooing might soften her up?”

“It always does, women like that, they’re just angry because they haven’t found a man.”

“Won’t your wife mind?”

“Are you going to tell her?” Both men laughed unpleasantly.

A serving girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, came around the tables, presumably one of Sir Boris’ many granddaughters. She took their plates onto a tray and smiled when Jaskier slipped a few coins onto the tray as a tip.

At the next table  one of the Lyrian’s snapped their fingers impatiently. The girl rolled her eyes. Geralt was pleased to see that, although she served him professionally, as she walked away she ‘accidentally’ tread on his foot.

“What pathetic pieces of shit, the pair of them,” Jaskier said as they stepped out into the sunlight. 

“Hmmm,” Geralt agreed. Then he looked around quickly and pulled Jaskier into an alleyway, urging the bard deeper into the shadows. 

“What? Geralt di-”

Geralt smushed his lips gracelessly to Jaskier’s, crowding him up against the wall. Jaskier’s hair between his fingers was so familiar and comforting, as was the little sigh Jaskier let out.

They pulled apart and Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. “That’ll tide me over for a while,” he whispered. Jaskier smiled.

“Are you master Julian?”

The pair sprang apart, looking in alarm at the red headed boy at the far end of the alley. 

“Yes...?” Jaskier said.

“Only, Pa said to come find you, and he said you’d be with a big man dressed all in black.”

“And you found us here?” Jaskier asked.

“Didn’t know you’d be here, did I?” Said the boy, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s the shortcut through to the tavern, but then, I figured he’s the only big man in black around.”

Geralt inclined his head, feeling his ears go hot.

“Lady Iliana has time to see you now,” the boy continued, oblivious to the awkwardness. 

“By all means...lead the way,” said Jaskier.

They were led out of the alley and back to the mayor’s house by the messenger boy.

“Out of curiosity,” Jaskier asked. “Is your grandad Sir Boris?” 

“Yeah, that’s him,” said the lad. “He made me a toy sword for my tenth birthday too.” He pointed proudly to the wooden sword tied at his hip with some string.

“It makes you look a proper hero,” Jaskier said. Then he pulled out his coin purse. “A copper for bringing us the message and...another to not tell anyone what you saw.”

The boy looked between the two of them shrewdly.

“Not even my best friend? I tell Mikhail everything.”

“Not until Geralt and I have left.”

“Three coppers total,” the boy said promptly. Jaskier handed them over good naturedly and the boy flashed a gap toothed grin before taking off.

Geralt and Jaskier shrugged at each other, before finding their way to the main room of the mayor’s house. A broad shouldered woman of about fifty poked her head out of a door.

“Julian?”

Geralt and Jaskier went inside.

“You look well,” Iliana said, sitting behind a large desk and gesturing to a couple chairs. “You havent’ aged a day.”

“And you look as lovely as I remember,” Jaskier said.

“Flirt. Come to ask me for heirs?”

Jaskier shuddered. “No, my lady. I remember your threat well. I think you know why I’m here.”

The two Lyrians barged through the door. 

“Did I ask you to enter?” Iliana said, coldly. Geralt felt an unusual curl of fear set up in his stomach, she was a distinctly fearsome woman.

“Well,” said the first Lyrian.

“You were so beautiful, I couldn’t wait on seeing you again,” said the second, slimily.

“Oh I say!,” Iliana said, standing. She placed her hand over her chest in a delicately offended way, which was ill suited to her. “You sir are too bold, and in front of my betrothed too!”

The Lyrians looked, panicked, at the people sat in the chairs. As Geralt was seated in the chair nearest the door, and therefore nearest them, they came to the wrong conclusion. The blood drained from both their faces.

“What an insult!” Iliana continued. “You should be ashamed! What a lack of diplomacy!” 

Beside Geralt, Jaskier snickered. She was laying it on a little thick. 

“Why,” she continued. “I ought to write to your king! I’ve never been so insulted. And I’m sure my beloved will want to sort out this insult too.” She fluttered her lashes at Geralt. 

Geralt nearly jumped out of his seat, but thankfully his brain caught up. He stood, growling a little theatrically and placed one hand on the hilt of his steel sword.

“Our apologies my lady,” the first man said hurriedly.

“Our mistake, we’ll just--” they dissappeared out the door.

“What a fearsome couple,” Geralt heard whispered as the door swung shut.

Iliana sighed satisfactedly and kicked her feet up on her desk. “It seems I should thank you,” she said. “That is going to make negotiations much easier.”

“I’m sure you always get good deals,” Jaskier said.

“Yes. I get the deals I want.”

“You know why I’m here,” Jaskier said.

“Yes.”

“Do you agree?”

“To disolve the betrothal? Of course. Never found a lover for myself so I never bothered but, well, I just don’t do romance.”

“Some people don’t,” Geralt said, thinking of Eskel.”

“Indeed,” Iliana said, smiling warmly at him. “Not all of us have a soulmate to sing us songs.” She laughed at their surprised faces. 

“Oh you fooled them, and you may have fooled Boris and Olenka, but I’ve heard your songs, Julian. It’s written right into everything you do.”

She began rummaging in one of the drawers in the desk. “I don’t mind, of course. So few people know we’re actually betrothed...there it is.” She pulled out an old piece of paper. “I’ll just rip it up if that’s fine by you. You’ll have to do the same to yours of course.”

“We’re going to Lettenhove this winter,” Jaskier said. “I’ll do it as soon as I find it.”

Iliana smiled again. “Father always did say that your dad had a horrible filing system.”

“He filed all his papers on the floor, yes, although I imagine my sister is neater.”

Iliana tore the paper in half without ceremony and placed the contract in the waste paper bin. “Lettenhove is very far away, Julian, will you get there in time?”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt. 

“I don’t know,” Geralt said.

“No matter,” said Iliana. She began writing something on a new sheet of paper. “Our logging teams float lumber all down the Dyfne and Pontar rivers. Show this to the dockmaster at the tip of the Dyfne and our riverboat captains can get you to Novigrad.” 

She pulled out another sheet of paper. “Once you’re in Novigrad, show this to the harbormaster and he’ll get you to Lettenhove.” She looked at their shocked faces and smiled. “Our lumber is the best, and it’s used in everything, including ships. I’m willing to cash in a favor in order to get rid of a useless betrothal.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Jaskier said bowing deeply. “I’ll have my Aunt Szarlotta send a message once our betrothal is fully extant.”

Iliana stood and shook his hand. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Our fathers were penpals,” Jaskier said. “Perhaps we should keep up the tradition?” 

The mayor inclined her head. “I’d like that. I may be too busy to write often.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I can only pick up messages when I pass through Oxenfurt, but I like to make friends with powerful people.” 

The two of them shared a smile.

“Not to rush you out my door,” Iliana said. “But I do have a lot to do, winter comes early up here, and I know it does as well in Lettenhove. even with my help, you two should leave soon.”

Geralt and Jaskier left that afternoon, just after a hearty meal at the tavern.

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

Across the continent and some weeks later, Jaskier and Geralt stepped onto the docks in Novigrad.

“I don’t think Roach liked the river boats,” Jaskier said as Geralt led her off. Roach whinnied and shook her mane emphatically.

“Sorry, girl,” Geralt said. “You’ll have another long boat journey, and this time I doubt we’ll stop so you can run about on land.”

“Nah,” Jaskier said, as they walked toward a tavern for supper. “Boats from Novigrad to Lettenhove stop around the coast on the way, she’ll get plenty of exercise. It’s something to do with the currents.”

He petted Roach’s muzzle softly as they stabled her at the inn beside the tavern and Geralt felt his heart go out to his bard. Jaskier cared so much for Roach. Geralt thought again of the gold band in his pack.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

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

Slightly more than a month later, after a slow, coastal boat journey, and then another between Inis Porhoest and Lettenhove, Geralt, Jaskier, and their faithful horse, stepped off the final boat.

“Welcome home, Master Julian,” said a fisherman on the dock.

“Does everyone here know you?” Geralt asked.

“Pretty much, there’s only about three hundred people here.”

News spread fast among three hundred people and Jaskier and Geralt were greeted enthusiastically at the door to the very small castle. A blonde woman who could only be Ksenia, Jaskier’s sister, flung her arms around him, and withing a moment Geralt was being gathered into the hug by a slightly older looking couple.

“Julek,” said the blonde man, pulling back. “My boy, you’re home, and you brought this stunning man, wow, what a looker.” 

“Papa, don’t be embarrassing,” Jaskier said. Geralt flushed clear to the roots of his hair. Apparently when Jaskier said he had his father’s personality he meant all of his father’s personality.

They had dinner as a family, including Jaskier’s niece and nephew, Cecylia and Prot. They had questions for Geralt, and he was grateful for the practice he’d had in Gwendeith. It was an enjoyable meal over all, and afterward Jaskier was distracted by his Aunt Szarlotta while Geralt slipped away to ask Mr. Pankratz a very important question.

The two of them returned to the main hall to see Jaskier pretending to be a dragon, while Cecylia and Prot bravely fought him with butterknives, but he straightened up when he saw the look on Geralt’s face.

Geralt took his hand and Jaskier squeezed it three times, it was their code, asking if Geralt needed to go somewhere that wasn’t so hard on his senses. Geralt smiled and shook his head, swallowing nervously around the lump in his throat.

He got down on one knee and pulled out the gold band. “I’m...I’m not good with words.” Geralt swallowed again, wishing he could borrow Jaskier’s eloquence for five minutes or so. “Marry me?”

The words were barely out from his mouth before Jaskier was tackling him to the ground, pressing kisses all over his face.

“Oh Geralt!” he said. “Wait--”

Jaskier looked up at his mother, who smiled and was handed a paper by his Aunt Szarlotta. Mrs. Pankratz ripped the betrothal contract in half.

“Yes,” Jaskier said, laughing. “I will marry you!”

Then they kissed on the chilly stone floor.

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

Dear Lady Iliana, Mayor of Gwendeith

The former contract has been voided. 

Szarlotta of Lettenhove

P.S. Geralt and Jaskier are engaged and send their love.

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

Holy Cow. 5603 words. I...I don’t even know what to say. I hope you like it.

[tsunderedoctor]

What the OP Boys Would do if You Have a Bad Day

Part 1 for now 

Part 2 in the foretold future (aka when I get the time to use my laptop-)

Monkey D. Luffy

Boy struggles with his self-hatred on important dates in time. Remembering past friends and family who passed is one of his biggest self-hatred motivators. So he does understand when there are times when you are down too! However, he also knows his way to cope might not be the same as how you cope, but it doesn’t mean he can’t try!

Will start by sniffing out the area thinking your feelings are coming from some unknown danger to him. If nothing on the outside around you seems off he concludes it’s something on the inside! After this he will began to come up with his own reasons why you are in a sad/sour mood: stomach ache, motion sickness, boredom, things that usually would resonate with him. If it’s none of those he will just point blank ask you at this point. 

“Want some meat? You can wear my hat if you want. I can do an impression on whoever you want!” 

Literally just naming out things he knows cheers people up and if none of them work he is stomped! Baby literally cannot process how to help you, will mostly just bug the hell out of you the entire time until you tell him how to help you-

So just tell him.

Roronoa Zoro

He can be observant when he wants to be (a man only motivated by alcohol and swords-), unfortunately he sucks at people skills-

He knows you’re upset/angry/sad, he just doesn’t know how to fix it. Would offer if you want to spar with him since that’s how he copes, if you are weaker however or don’t prefer fighting he would ask if you want to watch him. Would not offer you alcohol (both due to not wanting to lose his precious and not getting you used to coping this way-).  

If he sees you cry the dude will lose it a mixture between “Who hurt you?!” and “Stop it!” Truly hates it when you cry because he feels he is failing at his job to protect you (even if you never told him to-). If you want him to do something for you, use this time wisely cause he will do whatever he has to in order to get you to stop crying.

Not the best at giving comfort, but will lend you an ear to listen to you rant. Would also give you advice to cut whoever hurt you. If you are having more self-hatred he would understand and embarrassingly admit his favorite parts about you in order to help you see how people care about you.

Vinsmoke Sanji

Would spoil you (more than usual) to make your day better! Compliments, gifts, food the whole galore! He can sense the moment you wake up that you were off mentally (Vinsmoke senses? Who knows-), will bust through the door and begging you to tell him how to fix it. Honestly you might not even realize you’re in a foul mood until he tells you-

Tells everyone not to mess with/tease you constantly- “They’re having a down day, so Luffy stop talking.”

Will make your favorites and force everyone to eat it/say how good it is- Will also tell you every reason why he loves you (even if they make no sense) and gets you flowers, chocolates, hugs just everything.

The man is like the king when it comes to comfort due to the fact he will legit do whatever you ask of him. “Tell me I’m pretty.” Done. “Am I a good person?” The best in the world. “What if I turn into a worm?” You can have a worm themed wedding-

Just a good puppy trying to please his master-

Trafalgar D. Water Law

The best (worst-) at handling you when you are having a bad day. Will totally doctor nag you the entire time. 

“Did you drink water? No? That’s why you’re depressed.”

“Did you get enough sleep? You didn’t? That’s why you’re agitated-” 

Will not feel sorry for you if it’s due to your own health neglect; however do not be surprised if after he lectures you, you find some onigiri left out for you or just a randomly placed hoodie you can take a nap with.  

If it’s something more mental (as in someone hurt your feelings or you hurt your own feelings) he will just listen to you rant while wearing his usual grumpy facial features. In the inside he’s annoyed at who hurt you (even if you did it yourself-) and is contemplating on how to handle the situation. He won’t try to cheer you up and will give you some sound advice in the end, he won’t force you to take it either, you have to make your own decisions on that.

Is a sucker for tears though; oh boy it’s downhill now. Just in complete shock and can’t talk. Unlike Zoro though, he won’t do anything to make you stop crying. Will just throw a hoodie/Bepo at you and leave- baby can’t handle that-

Eustass “Captain” Kid

Comfort? Him? Okay maybe just a little-

A tsundere where it matters, but deep down cares about you, he just sucks at showing it (and without insulting you first-). Will mock you for letting things get to you, and let’s all be fair here; was probably the cause of your bad day.

Boy just loves to fight, gives him a rush to see you all pissed at him over something stupid he did or said. However, he will shut up completely once he sees even a shine of wetness in your eyes. All that adrenaline is out the window and guilt has overtaken his system. 

IF by some chance it wasn’t him who hurt you and it was someone else; please expect to see them get their ass beat. He doesn’t give a shit who the person is either, if they made you cry, they lost all respect from him (which wasn’t much so-). Might have you watch him beat them too, or if it’s too much/you are in a state where you can’t handle it, will bring you a bodily souvenir.

 Is the type to suggest you take out your anger in some violent way whether it’s breaking vases or faces, he doesn’t care. “Get the bat babe, we’re going out.”

Killer

He’s the Teddy Bear troupe kind of guy, fight me on it-

Is worried about you the moment you show any low level cues you are having a rough time. Will suggest things you have mentioned in the past that have helped you relax. If you can’t do any of those things or is too down to do anything he will suggest things he knows help him (usually cuddles-).

Will let you play with his hair while you rant about your feelings and how they came to be in that place. Isn’t as bad as Kid, but does imagine what it would be like to show you that you don’t have to worry about a person who upset you because they are dead (if you suggest it though, I mean he ain’t gonna say no).

Babe just wants you to know how much he loves you and needs you in his life; you helped and accepted so much of him he can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose you. So if you are having any negative thoughts, please be honest and tell him, cause he will make them go away in no time. 

Also please tell him if Kid says anything mean to you because he has no problem kicking his captain-

Portgas D. Ace

A sweet pup who just loves to love you. Has no problems if you are having a bad day and honestly same boo, it be like that sometimes. I feel he is the most normal (well close to it anyway) on handling your bad day. Will suggest a few ideas and let you decide. If none sound good, then he wants you to think of something. 

Will make jokes with you and try fun things to distract your mind. The type who doesn’t like to sit in the past and would rather see the future. So makes plans with you on random things to help clear any stress out of you. 

If you are crying would throw his hat on you without saying anything and find the asshole who hurt you to talk to them. If it was something you personally feel will wait to you’re done crying and have the talk with you (Dateline meme “Take a seat”-).

By the end of the day, you honestly forgot you were even upset and that’s his main goal. He wants you to remember all the fun and great things in the world, rather than think about the negative parts we can’t control.

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 5.2k!! WARNINGS: is an awful lot of fluff a warning?

author’s note: FINALLY!!! AGAIN!!! i can’t believe we have reached part 5, you guys ;_; i never imagined this fic would even be liked by so many of you. i am so grateful to even receive notes from the first part up to the latest. i appreciate all of you! please let me know what you think. this is the part i have been excited for, so i hope you are excited too! enjoy!!!

five: the one | masterlist

What happened at the hospital made you cling to Wonwoo in the most subtle way possible. You wouldn’t even consider messaging his phone clingy. But yes, you have finally taken a hold of his phone number. Back then, Jeongyeon was the one who contacts him about your joint schedules. And now, it’s you that personally calls or messages him. Mostly messages. Aside from talking about the official duties you have been assigned together, one of the main reasons why you took the initiative is you just want to hear about whatever from him firsthand. You did notice, however, during the first time you sent a hello, it surprised the Prince a little but he just shrugged it off. You’re embarrassed but you brave through it because it’s only normal to communicate with your future husband.

You try to start and hold conversations with him from time to time but it doesn’t last long. It’s alright though. It’s not like you want to talk about his childhood through message bubbles. You’re also aware that a buzzing phone is the most unwanted item when he’s on duty unless it’s an emergency call. It’s also the same for your job. Staring at your phone while waiting for his reply has caught Jeongyeon’s attention already and she has not hesitated to reprimand you. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Jeongyeon asks and drops two lunchboxes on the center table of your office. “Are you still sick?”

You purse your lips and shake your head no, eyes not leaving the bright screen of the small device.

“Come on,” she calls and steals the phone from your hand. “It’s time to eat. I prepared this especially for you.”

You scoff in disbelief, but the smile on your face says otherwise. You stand from your chair and follow her to where the mouthwatering food is at. 

“I didn’t hire you to cook for me though,” you say, reminding her how she doesn’t have to do this. 

“Ey,” she dismisses your words and hands you the spoon to start eating. “I’m just helping His Highness out.”

Your ear perks up at the mention of the Prince. “What?” 

“He didn’t tell me to cook for you, don’t worry,” she quickly informs, noticing your face forming a frown. Then, she smiles. “He just wanted to make sure you’re eating right and well. And, it just so happened I had the time earlier to prepare this. Ta-dah!”

She opens the lid of the first food container and your stomach growls in hunger at the sight. A set of colorful vegetables, fully cooked meat and warm rice were presented before you. By the looks of it, she really did have the time earlier.

“Should I thank you or the Prince?” You ask in jest.

“Of course you should thank me!” She holds her chin up and points to her chest proudly. “I’ve been taking care of you for the longest time while His Majesty just started. He can actually learn 

a thing or two from me, you know?”

He’s taking care of me, your thoughts echo, making you smile. 

You’re definitely calling him later. 

The wedding planning resumes in no less than two weeks after navigating back to your usual routine. And on this one fine Saturday afternoon, Wonwoo decided to drive his own car and have you with him to go to your wedding planner’s office together. He messaged you and you welcomed the thoughtful gesture. He picked you up from your apartment, much to both of your security details’ dismay. Jeongyeon sent you a bunch of heart gifs afterwards and you can picture her screaming (silently) at the top of her lungs. 

This is the first time you’ve seen Wonwoo in the two weeks that passed and it’s kind of awkward to be alone with him in one small space. This is also the first time you have witnessed him driving. Security is tailing behind though. They are really not fond of letting the two of you out of their sight. 

This car ride is quiet aside from the radio playing some mellow music. Wonwoo has his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. Which is good because as much as you want to stare at his handsome face, you need to hold yourself back. You let your eyes wander to the view outside the window instead.

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to notice your shyness and that eases your worry because you really don’t want him to think you’re shying away from him. You actually want to talk. Talk about anything and even everything. But, how? 

After you called him that one time, you’ve started speaking to him by call here and there. Before his shift starts, after his shift ends, before he goes home or when he’s at home and even before he goes to bed. They’re just casual calls that didn’t even last longer than ten minutes. That’s about it. Phone calls. But now, you are face to face and you don’t seem to know how to form words anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo noticed your dilemma and spoke up first.

“Do you want to grab something to eat after?” 

“Huh?” You ask, snapping yourself out from the thoughts occupying your mind.

“I figured it would be nice to catch up and all,” he explains, sparing you a small glance before quickly bringing his eyes back on the road. “Coffee or tea will do if you’re not that hungry.”

Warmth surged to your face. What kind of question was that? Of course you’d love to! You’re just holding yourself from shouting a loud YES! with a bite of your lip because you don’t want to sound overexcited. 

After a beat of silence, you boldly answer, “I’d like that.”

Wonwoo smiles and reaches his hand out to yours, squeezing them not only once but twice. His touch reminds you of how he held and kissed your hand that one time he accompanied you back to your apartment. Your breath hitches and you hide your surprise with a small smile. He lets go after a few seconds but those few seconds almost made you faint. 

You gulp, heart attack is inevitable with this man.

The meeting was short so you and Wonwoo decided to drive to the nearby coffee shop you passed by earlier. The place wasn’t packed and the facility was notified by security to make sure that distance and privacy from the public is observed. Such protocol is not enacted all the time and you are free to go out and about together or individually but sometimes these measures are taken into consideration to make sure that your safety is not compromised. Especially if there are topics or discussions that should be reserved only for the parties involved. 

Such as now when Wonwoo just casually dropped an engagement party bombshell to you like it’s the morning paper.

“An engagement party?” 

“Yes,” Wonwoo confirms, a nervous smile drawn on his face. “My mother, in her own words, thought it would be lovely to hold an intimate and simple party back home.”

“Oh,” you mutter and place the cup of coffee back on the table.

“Do you mind leaving us for a moment? I’d like to speak about this with the Princess alone,” Wonwoo politely dismisses the security detail and they obeyed with no protest. 

Once they’re gone, Wonwoo stands from the chair he sat on when you arrived and takes the space on the loveseat you chose. He takes hold of your hand, an action you noticed he’s been confidently doing lately. You opened your palm for him because you don’t mind. But a little warning next time is much appreciated because your heart can’t take any more of his surprises.

“I didn’t know we had to hold an engagement party,” you start and he agrees in a heartbeat. “I thought after going public, that would do it.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” he apologizes in a pout and that gave you the strong urge to squeeze his cheeks. Which you actually did. Your urges are becoming stronger than your own will whenever you’re with him.

He smiles at your touch and you roll your eyes when he winks at you. You guess it’s not only the hand holding that Wonwoo has been confident of lately. He has started to always search and meet your eyes and stay as close as possible to you.  Earlier after locking the door of his car, he  held your hand and the wedding planner couldn’t hide her pleased grin when she opened the doors of her office.

He also has the same confidence to escape from trouble, just like now. Although, of course, you’re not saying Her Majesty is causing trouble. It’s just nerve wracking to go to your future in-laws house for the first time. You’re sure any soon-to-be wife would feel the same way. 

But then again, you’re not just any ordinary soon-to-be wife.

“I heard the beaches there are lovely,” you mention to lighten the mood.

“Yes, they are,” Wonwoo guarantees, his arm now completely around your shoulders, fingers grazing the skin of your shoulder every once in a while. He’s completely warm and you wonder if he’s warmer when you finally get to see him in his hometown. 

You exhale and reach for a napkin to wipe the remnants of the cupcake he took a bite of off the corner of his lips. “Well, I guess I’m gonna have to file for a vacation leave then.”

Wonwoo’s eyes light up, an excited smile forming on his lips. No words were needed to describe how ecstatic he is to visit home. 

With you.

A week went by and you are now officially invited by the neighboring kingdom for a two-week stay at their Royal Residences. Your parents, the King and Queen, have received the official invitation and they have given orders for you to travel at the convenience of your time. They wish to come along but they do respect the Prince’s parents wishes to spend time with their future daughter-in-law. 

This is your last day of packing and preparing before the long car trip tomorrow and Jeongyeon is all smiles while helping you. She had mentioned before that when she was younger, her family annually travels to the beach there because of how breathtaking and relaxing they were. You can tell she’s very excited through her humming as she zipped the last of your bags.

Jeongyeon placed everything you’ll be bringing near the door of your bedroom to not miss out on anything when you depart tomorrow. She then leaves after resting for a few minutes, bidding you an excited goodbye and see you tomorrow. 

A while later, after scanning your whole room with hands on your hips, you let yourself breathe out and plop down on your bed. The week that went by was oddly busy and tiring. It scared you for a moment because you thought this might hinder you from leaving. But thankfully, after meeting your deadlines and satisfying clients that asked for your legal counsel, the two weeks to come is all yours and Wonwoo’s for the taking. 

You draw your phone from your pocket, thinking of ringing Wonwoo to check on him. But the sound of your doorbell distracted you from doing so. Your brows knit in confusion. You’re not expecting anyone other than Jeongyeon today. Well, you don’t expect anyone other than Jeongyeon ever. 

Nevertheless, you stand up and walk outside the comforts of your bedroom. 

You peek at the monitor near your door and your eyes widened like saucers when you saw the person waiting on the other side.

Wonwoo.

It didn’t take your fingers long to punch your code and unlock the door. You didn’t even bother checking if you completely unlocked the door because your feet sped to open it yourself. 

“Hey,” you greet and finally get a good look at his form. He’s wearing an oversized grey hoodie and black jeans outlining his long legs. It won’t take a minute to guess he just finished his shift. 

“Hi. Sorry. Did I come at the wrong time?” 

“Did you drive here?” You ask instead of answering. Exhaustion can be clearly heard from his voice and it makes you frown in worry. 

“No, no,” he assures, giving you a tired smile. “I am way too exhausted to drive.”

You didn’t need words to let him in. You just opened your door wider and turned around to walk back inside, certain he’d follow.

You can’t see it, but Wonwoo’s tired smile brightens when he sees you comfortable around him. The first time he stepped foot here was brief and today he’s hoping it lasts a little longer.  The moving car earlier almost lulled him to sleep, but he resisted to not miss telling the driver where to drop him off. “I’m sorry again. You were probably busy.”

“Don’t be,” you say and sit on your couch. You then give him a smile and pat the space next to you. “Now sit.”

Wonwoo returns your smile and takes a seat, dropping his small backpack beside the couch in the process. He lets his head rest sideways and closes his eyes briefly to regain some energy. 

You pout and reach out to remove the fringe blocking his eyes. “Have you eaten?”

He gives you a quiet nod before snuggling closer to the couch. “I just wanted to see you before we leave tomorrow.”

You’re rendered speechless with his words, heart definitely swooning. Without thinking twice, you pulled him close to your body by his arm before securing his head to your chest. His eyes blinked in surprise, but he welcomed the affection anyway. He closes his eyes again and nuzzles his nose to the crook of your neck. Soon, his arms are wrapped around your waist and your legs are over his lap, almost sitting on them. A cozy silence is shared between the two of you. 

“You have two weeks to see my face uninterrupted,” you whisper while running your fingers through his soft locks. 

Wonwoo’s lips stretched to a blissful smile and you can feel it against your skin. “Can’t wait Princess.”

Your first day at Wonwoo’s kingdom has you booked. Similar to the act of kindness their Majesties extended to your kingdom, your parents returned their generosity by donating for the construction and development of a public hospital. 

Although a courtesy call to their Majesties should have been your first agenda, their Majesties granted you permission to attend the ceremony commemorating the official start of the project. 

Wonwoo’s arm served as your anchor as the two of you stand before a cheering crowd. You make sure to keep a genuine smile and give enthusiastic waves whenever they shout for you. But, you are aware that they are much more excited to finally see their Prince back on their soil. You smile and give Wonwoo a glance who does the same. He holds the hand that’s snaked around his arm, a comforting touch to help keep you calm. 

After the Secretary of Health gave his closing remarks, the ceremony ended. The two of you bid farewell but not before you have extended your greetings to everyone present and wave one last time to the persevering crowd. 

The climate here is no different from your home. However, you must say that there are still some distinctions after seeing the port and the view of the sea. Even though you have been here before, this trip is a whole new experience because you’re about to be wedded to someone who belongs here. 

“Y/N, my dear.” The Queen joyfully opens her arms after you formally greeted their Majesties with a curtsy. You gladly reciprocate the gesture and hug her back. 

Wonwoo greets his father on the other side with a bow, but His Majesty wanted to envelope him in a hug instead. His embrace definitely says how much he missed his son after a long while. 

“I am so delighted to have you here,” the Queen says, rubbing both of your arms to warmth. “I hope the car ride wasn’t exhausting.”

You shake your head while smiling. “It was alright, Your Majesty.”

Her smile grows bigger. “We’ll let you settle down first before we proceed. We have prepared a room for you and the rest of your staff. But, I’m sure Wonwoo wouldn’t mind sharing his with you.”

You blush at her cheeky wink and you can see Wonwoo grimace from your peripheral. His Majesty just laughs at his beloved’s antics. 

“Your mother is joking,” the King assures and gives his son a pat on the shoulder. He then moves to your direction to finally give you  a hug.

Wonwoo steals you away from the loving couple, afraid of what else his mother will blurt out. He holds your hand again and you just giggle when you see him narrowing his eyes at them. 

“We’ll be taking our leave then, Your Majesties,” you say and bow once again. 

Their Majesties nod and wave goodbye. “See you later!”

There are still some instances where your home is called The Palace, however as times have changed, the Royal Family has opened its doors to modernity. It’s now usually referred to as the Royal Residences. Wonwoo’s home had done the same and you’re a little relieved that their customs are not that different from your homeland. 

Jeongyeon follows behind as Wonwoo gives you a brief tour to help you navigate around necessary rooms you’d be going to such as the kitchen, library, entrances and exits. All the while, his hand remained clasped with yours. 

The Jeon’s have made their mark on their residence and it’s not that hard to see. It’s too early to say but you can see how it is originally them. From the wallpapers, flooring, artworks, furniture and more. It’s nothing uncomfortable. It’s actually exciting and you’re looking forward to the days to come. 

Shortly after Wonwoo’s tour, you have arrived at the door of your designated room. 

“If you need me…” Wonwoo says, then pauses, hesitating. 

You tilt your head to the side, trying to decipher where the sudden shyness is coming from. You try to hide your grin. This is one of the rare times you see Wonwoo not making eye contact. 

“Your room is at the end of the hall, I know.” you finish his sentence for him and his eyes widen in surprise. Now, you are laughing indeed. “Her Majesty might have shared the information when she hugged me earlier.”

Wonwoo groans and palms his face, embarrassed. He loves his mother, a hundred percent. But, she’s testing it by how much she’s teasing him. 

You squeeze his hand. “You should get some rest. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” he answers, face still red. “I just hope she doesn’t rub herself on you.”

You shake your head at his remark and let go of his hand, reluctantly. 

“See you later, Princess.”

You adore the emerald dress that your mother had personally designed for you to wear on this special night. She actually surprised you three days before you left, presenting a huge box and smile when you arrived at the Royal Residences. She even told you how long she had this in store and she can’t believe that such a day she’d see you wear it would come. 

It’s a long-sleeve and backless dress with intricate patterns you believe only your mother would ever come up to. Looking at yourself through the mirror clothed with such a dress makes you confident and strong, reminded by the Queen who’s much more than you already are. 

Once zipped up, Jeongyeon helps put your official crown on the top of your head. The last time you’ve worn this was when your parents celebrated their wedding anniversary. And tonight it carries a different meaning and duty because you’re wearing it for the first time in a while, at your engagement to Wonwoo. You really wish your parents could be here. You’ll have to make sure to take and send a lot of pictures.  

“You really look beautiful, Your Highness,” Jeongyeon praises, looking from behind you as she does some finishing touches for the last time. 

You smile and thank her. 

A knock on the wooden door has your breath hitching. This is it. You release the breath you briefly held before turning away from the mirror to walk towards the door. Jeongyeon helps you with the train of your dress then holds the doorknob, waiting for your signal.

“Whenever you’re ready, Your Highness,” she whispers. 

You nod and hold your head high. “Let’s go.”

Wonwoo is no stranger to wearing formal clothes such as black suits with either a bow tie or necktie. Although he’s more accustomed to wearing scrubs and his white coat ever since he started working, he still remembers how his mother used to scold him whenever he arrives at events with a disheveled or mismatched tie. All the while, his father just laughs and fixes it for him, without fail. 

But this time, he promised to do things right out of respect to the woman of dignity that you are. Well, he’s of age to know how to do such simple tasks anyway so he really does not have any excuses. 

He humors himself and dust the invisible dust on his shoulders. 

It’s been a long while since you and Wonwoo have been engaged and yet his thoughts and heart are still all over the place. It’s nothing bad to worry about. In fact, he has grown fond of your company already and he won’t deny that the affectionate moments you have shared are more than enough to leave butterflies flying in his stomach. 

He then checks the time on the watch his parents gifted him on his graduation. He better get going if he’s to meet you at the banquet hall. He doesn’t want to keep you waiting like the day you asked him if he really wants to marry you. 

He wouldn’t be late at all because he does want to marry you. 

There. He finally said it and tonight will officially seal that with his parents, the King and Queen, and his people as witnesses. 

He gives himself a last look in the mirror and then takes his leave before a knock on the door is even heard.

It came as a surprise when you saw the color of Wonwoo’s necktie that is visibly similar to the color of your dress. It may sound unbelievable and a tad bit cringey, but your heart can’t help but flutter when it catches your attention. 

Wonwoo was already standing at the entrance of the banquet hall with his hands behind his back, eyes down on what seems like his brand new shoes and heart and mind patiently waiting for you, when you appeared before him. 

When he looks up and sees you at last, his big smile welcomes you. You can see his eyes brighten up when he sees the color of your dress and your nerves are a little bit relieved. 

“I didn’t get the memo, but I’m glad we’re matching nonetheless,” he says when he takes your hand to wrap around his arm. 

“Are you saying that this is a remarkable coincidence, Your Highness?” You teasingly reply as the two of you face the closed doors, awaiting to be opened. 

“Hmm. I think it’s our mothers,” he deducts, making you laugh. “But I’d like to call it meant to be.”

Your ears heat up at his last statement and you have to bite your lip to avoid smiling too wide. 

After a few seconds and static exchange from walkie talkies, a loud voice announces your attendance followed by opening the huge doors of the banquet hall. Inside, a number of guests not exceeding a hundred and fifty are standing from their tables, clapping as you and Wonwoo enter. 

You feel like the two of you started everything right from the very beginning until now. Your only hope is that it lasts, even just for tonight. 

Wonwoo’s family was nothing but all smiles when you met them. Brief yet sincere greetings and hugs were exchanged when your fiancé introduced you to them, the family that you’re soon-to-be part of. 

Wonwoo’s hand remained on the small of your back as you moved around the hall to meet every guest. You only got separated when his parents had to take you to different groups of people to engage and socialize. But still, from time to time, you and Wonwoo would meet eyes. 

The dance floor was opened after dinner was served. You couldn’t eat much as your nerves hindered you from doing so. It concerned Wonwoo, afraid you could be sick or not enjoying it. But you dismissed all his worries. Telling him you’re more than okay, just nervous. You finally convinced him when you held his hand. 

A little while later, Wonwoo excused himself to go to the restroom. He squeezes your shoulder and mutters a quick, “I’ll be back.” You were left to watch the King and Queen’s turn to dance their number and you cheered along with everyone watching the sweet exchange. 

So far, you are enjoying the night and as the party is nearing its end, you feel grand. 

What could possibly go wrong, right?

The presence of an ex-lover. 

Okay, that sounded spiteful, even for you. But seeing them standing from the distance and chatting had your heart dropping a little. You turn your eyes away and remind yourself that a minimal change of your expression can be noticed by the hundreds of people present at this party and you can’t let your jealousy be the trending news for tomorrow. 

You swallow the lump on your throat and plaster a smile on your face. You can’t and won’t let this get to your head. There’s nothing bad about catching up. Who knows, they may have chosen to remain friends. Even though you really don’t know how things ended between them. 

Your knuckles turn white from tightly gripping the napkin placed on your lap and your cheeks hurt from how fake you are smiling now. 

But then you ask yourself, why are you restraining yourself from going there and introducing yourself? Introduce yourself to the girl he once considered marrying. Introduce yourself as the one he’s marrying now. 

The jealous side of you is screaming for you to stand up but the lawyer side of you is telling you to stay composed and-

The lawyer in you doesn’t win tonight because before you know it, you have already stood up with feet taking you to where your fiancé is. 

Wonwoo’s back was facing you when you see and hear her giggle as you near them. You sneak behind Wonwoo, almost making his soul jump out of his body, startled by you. But when he realizes that it’s you, his tensed shoulders visibly relax.

You smile and hold his hand, purposely ignoring the other girl. “Can we dance?”

WHAT? 

Your head grows dumbfounded at your question. You can’t believe yourself.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness,” Wonwoo’s ex-girlfriend introduces herself with a curtsy before he could answer your question.

You just nod, showing no interest at all. You could feel Wonwoo growing tense again as he grips your hand tighter. 

You don’t have any intentions of staying and holding a conversation with her so you return your eyes immediately back to Wonwoo and repeat your question. “Let’s dance?”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate to give in to your wishes, pulling you to the dance floor without looking back. 

He smiles at you and you smile at him too, the other girl long forgotten. 

Later in the night when the music died down and the crowd has dispersed, you find yourself growing guilty by your harsh and curt actions towards Wonwoo’s ex-girlfriend earlier. It was so wrong of you and the need to apologize is imperative. 

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” you say while looking down on the floor. You and Wonwoo just arrived in front of your room and you have to do this before the night completely ends. “It was childish of me and I… I’m really sorry.”

Silence. 

You brows furrow when you don’t hear Wonwoo reply or mutter at least anything. You’re about to raise your head but Wonwoo’s warm hands beat you to it when he holds it gently and lands a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“She’s married,” he finally says something and that something makes you look up. “But I guess you didn’t notice because you only had your eyes on me.”

You punch his chest when he laughs, definitely not appreciating his teasing tone. “I can’t believe you.”

He’s still laughing when you pull away from him. You roll your eyes before turning to your door, ready to go inside and save yourself from further embarrassment. 

Wonwoo doesn’t fail to notice and immediately takes hold of your hand, tugging you back to his arms. You avoid his eyes when leans down and tries to get you to look back at him. He smiles and sneaks a kiss on your cheek. 

“Stop it!” You warn and push him away, but it was futile. “Are you drunk?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No.”

“Then leave.”

“But I don’t want to,” he whines and sways your bodies from side to side.

Wonwoo is now full on hugging your whole body to his and when you return his hug, he hugs you tighter and closer. He cradles your head with one hand while the other soothingly rubs your back. 

“We were young and wanted different things back then,” he suddenly tells. “We were committed to each other but it wasn’t meant to last and as time went by, we realized we were better off as acquaintances rather than as a couple.”

You sigh and snuggle closer to his chest as you listen to his story. “What about now?”

“Hmm?” He hums as he breathes in your scent. 

“Would you still want different things, even with me?”

Wonwoo backs off a little with his arms still around yours when he heard your question. That got him thinking. But it didn’t take him long to give you a sure answer. 

“I would still, yes.” He smiles and presses his forehead against yours. “But regardless, I’d still marry you.”

Your face blushes at his confession and you try to hide away by diving back to his chest. 

Wonwoo chuckles and finds your chin to lift your head up. “I hope it’s not too late, but you really look beautiful, Princess.” 

You don’t know what has gotten to you but once you lock eyes with Wonwoo, you hold the back of his neck and gently pull him down to meet your height. You push yourself up to give him a kiss on his lips. He freezes, but quickly melts right after and captures your lips to fully kiss you. It was only supposed to be a peck, but Wonwoo had other things in mind. 

A whimper can be heard from you when he deepened the kiss and you can only wish for this night to never end.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

Wonwoo didn’t have to answer. He just holds your hand and runs. 

[neacle]

also all of the ship asks for Dinahboose because themmmmmm ;-;

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet? Well, they've known each other the longest, and they met when C.B arrived to Apollo Victoria. Dinah has lived there her whole life.

What was their first impression of each other? Dinah thought C.B was funny and sweet, and C.B thought Dinah was sweet and caring, they got along quickly, and complimented each other well

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? A few months after the race, Ashley and Buffy started to sense some tension between them and kinda tried to spur Dinah on. Meanwhile, Dustin is quick to spot feelings blooming and tried to encourage C.B.

Who felt romantic feelings first? Hard to say, both started to feel them gradually and over time pretty much at the same time.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Yes lmao, Dinah because she didn't want to jump into another thing after being so long with Greaseball, and also because C.B has never expressed any sort of interests in girls before, so she tried to keep it to herself. And C.B was unsure about his feelings and wanted to work out why and how he suddenly felt this way about his best friend, that happened to be a girl. And it's not like she'd ever go for a scrawny little guy like him after she's been with a big engine like Greaseball....

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? "What? That's silly, he's my best friend and he likes guys" "What? That's silly, she's my best friend and I like guys"

What would their lives be like if they had never met? I think Dinah would be even more unsure of herself than if she didn't have C.B in her life, and Greaseball and a lot f other guys would have walked over her even more. And C.B would still continue with his crashes and sabotaging, and maybe it'd go so bad that he'd just get worse and worse (even if i personally HC him as only crashing trains in races to help GB win, otherwise he's mostly full of shit and lies lmao)

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? Dinah did I guess, she got caught in a moment and went in for a kiss 😌 It went surprisingly well

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? I guess so! Damn I haven't thought about a date yet hmmmm But yes ofc they'd go on a official date, and it would be a little awkward but very sweet

What was their first kiss like? Sweet and unsure, and then hungry and passionate. They're both very greedy lol

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Well, I guess this is C.B's first real relationship, with any person, and specifically with a girl. Before that he just fucked around like a horny little gremlin

What’s their height difference? Age difference? Dinah is 160 cm, and C.B is 162 cm (so 5,2 and 5,3 ft) And Dinah is 30 years old, and C.B 29

What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Well, Ashley and Buffy are supportive, even if they're a little careful with his history with sabotaging. Pearl is still on the offense, but wants to be a good sport for Dinah. Greaseball was shocked at first, he didn't see it coming, and it takes a while for him to warm up to the idea. The freight all like Dinah, so they're on board, and Dustin and Ashley are besties so

Who takes the lead in social situations? Both? They're very socially adept and likes to mingle, tho Dinah is shy when she doesn't know the person, so then C.B steps in

Who gets jealous easier? Dinah I think, once she's in a relationship she tends to get clingy. But C.B isn't far behind, tho he tends to show it in more quiet and self concious ways

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? C.B lmao, he loves to make Dinah blush

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first? Dinah, she's more comfortable and vocal about things overall

What are their primary love languages? Cute nicknames, touches, handholding, stroking the hair, cuddling

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? C.B, they're terrible, but they make Dinah laugh so

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? Very, very much. They hold hands like all the time, and cuddle whenever they sit together, and Dinah loves to kiss his red cheeks

Who initiates kisses? Both, they're like i mentioned very greedy lmao

Who’s the big and little spoon? Dinah has always been the little spoon, so she tends to cuddle up to C.B, but they sometimes switch or just sleep embracing eachother

What are their favorite things to do together? Sing, dance, bake, braid flowers. In the winter they switch their wheels to blades and go ice skating on the nearest lake, but they've always done that lol

Who’s better at comforting the other? C.B is better at comforting Dinah, he's done it for most of their friendship after all. But Dinah is slowly starting to see outside her own bubble too, and she's very good at comforting as soon as she leans into it

Who’s more protective? Dinah lmao She a moma bear

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Both? Or well, Dinah prefers both, while C.B is more physical

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? All Shook Up by Elvis Presley Ganz Allein, naturally lol (preferably with Kapa or Hans) Ain't No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye I will Always Love You by Dolly Parton

What kind of nicknames do they call each other? C.B calls Dinah "Dee, Dee-dee, babe" Dinah calls C.B "Cee, Ceeb, sugah, honey, my guy, my lil' man"

Who remembers the little things? Both, they're very good at remembering things lol

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes? C.B would, tho i don't think they'll ever get officially coupled, but we'll see lol

What’s the wedding like? Who attends? Small and intimate, lots of flowers, their closest friends and family

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? No kids. I imagine Dinah would perhaps want some, but C.B is not parent-material, they'll take it when and if they get there

Do they have any pets? I imagine that they would love to have some small critters around, and no this is not only because it's you Jenny, but i can see them have chickens lol Dinah would use the eggs for baking and cooking

Who’s the stricter parent? Again, no kids prob But Dinah would be stricter

Who worries the most? Dinah, she's used to certain things going her way and she's used to being in control and wanting everything to look good and function. C.B goes more with the flow

Who kills the bugs in the house? Both? Or Dinah lets them out

How do they celebrate holidays? Huge dinners, and lovely desserts, with their close kin

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Both of them lmao, but they also work the same hours so they pretty much get up at the same time anyway

Who’s the better cook? Again, they don't really *need* to eat, but Dinah, definitely. But C.B is very observant and likes to learn

Who likes to dance? Booooth, they dance a lot, and have for a long time

[coffeesuperhero]

leverage fic recs

So, I needed a better organizational system than my AO3 bookmarks (boy do I miss delicious!), so I’m just going to start a post for myself here and reblog it occasionally as I add to it. Most (all?) of these are OT3 fics, because I am who I am and I read what I read. If you want non-OT3 fic recs, I am not your person. Probably you have read these, but if you haven’t, what are you waiting for! 

Gen: 

01. The Fake Geek Boy Job, by shinealightonme.  It’s casefic at a fan convention and Eliot has to cosplay. In spandex. Go read it and enjoy yourself, already. 

Beautiful shippy fic (everyone is together/small moments/slice of life): 

01. The Three Rings Job, by HugeAlienPie.  Sophie POV. The OT3 at Nate and Sophie’s wedding, where Nate and Sophie are not aware that there is now an OT3. It’s soft. And so sweet you could serve it as dessert. And it has the best boat name for a Nate and Sophie boat in the world. 

02. hacker/hitter/thief/home, by AtlantisRises.  A collection of short OT3 fics that hit you just right in the feels, in the best way. 

03. Nothing’s Exactly What We Need, by BabylonsFall. The OT3, on vacation. 

Everybody is together and also there’s a con: 

01. Covenants, Conditions, & Restrictions, by page_runner.  We love a good long fic where the OT3 help an old lady and con an HOA, because HOA’s are the worst. This fic also gives me deeply hurt feelings about the team having to leave Portland, which I know in my heart is probably the Way of Things, but which I will never write myself because heartbreak. But this deals with that reality so beautifully, and it’s a good con, too. 

Getting together OT3:  01. just want you close, by biblionerd07.  Eliot-POV, post-rundown, man am I a sucker for Eliot-POV stories where Parker and Hardison just...love the hell out of him, and this is just a lovely, careful, sweet version of that. 

02. international small arms traffic blues, by ftmsteverogers.  Eliot POV, character study + get together fic. Makes you very sad for Eliot, and then happier for Eliot. And I’m a sucker for anytime someone has to call Sophie for advice. 

03. So Come On, Avalanche, by elysiumwaits.  It is Eliot POV snowed-in at a cabin OT3 getting together fic, so idk what more you need to know to read it. 

04. Rings a Bell, by venilia.  Eliot wakes up with amnesia and thinks he’s married to Hardison and also has a Parker, it’s silly and sweet. 

05. The Thunderous Roll of a Tropical Sea (the moonlit memory I can’t seem to lose), by phnelt. **content notes: canon-typical violence + Mature! grown and sexy content ahoy!** I have classified this as a “getting together” story, because ultimately that is what happens, but it’s probably more like “eliot getting his shit together, and now they’re all together,” which is my favorite flavor of OT3 getting together fic, anyway. It starts out a little sad, because gasp! They were together but they split up!! But it has a happy ending. It also has fake marrieds, my favorite trope of all time. Eliot feeding Hardison strawberries and playing with his fake husband on a beach while Parker watches? Please. 

06. Happy Meal, by @leiascully Listen, I admit that I am biased, because my wife wrote this for me, but it is this really hilarious flirting-over-the-comms-pre-OT3-sort-of-getting-together story, and I laughed, and it was great, so you should enjoy it, too. 

07. Oklahoma’s Next Top Model, by Hedgehog-O-Brien (Roshwen).  Hardison POV. This fic has the greatest tag of all time, which is: “Title not entirely accurate bc Eliot's clearly a bottom but who cares“ and I knew I was in good hands solely on that basis before I read a word of the fic. Tbh I put this in this “getting together” category because I feel like it’s heavily implied at the end that there’s a getting together situation happening, but like, that’s not why you read this fic. You read this fic for the ridiculously over the top OT3 photoshoot of your wildest dreams. You will laugh. You will be entertained. Enjoy!

08. Fifty Fake Dates, by calico_fiction. WIP, Hardison POV. nb: This hasn’t been updated in a minute but a) I too have WIPs that take a long-ass time between updates, if this updated in ten years I would still be excited to read it and b) the chapter that’s up is such a delight to me that I really think it’s worth a read even if this is all of this story the author wants to post. It’s a great Hardison POV with some delicious pining and fake Hardison/Eliot dating, which is my jam. 

09. For Real, by BurningTea. It’s hard to do an accidental marriage in this canon, but this fic did that! Hardison’s technical expertise goes a bit awry and everybody has to have....a talk. About feelings. 

Hurt/comfort: 

01. Dig Deep, by BurningTea.  Eliot has to dig his own grave and climb into it. It hurts a lot!!!! And then it’s comforting. So, exactly what it says on the tin. Good character observations and nicely written, hurts exactly right and comforts exactly right, too. 

Hot (nsfw, 18+, Mature, grown and sexy content for grown and sexy adults): 

01. Don’t Come Late, by @leiascully.  It’s just...the OT3, having really hot sex. That’s it, that’s the review. (The writing is delightful and there’s like, funny stuff in with the sexy stuff, which is real life and always nice to see, you know?) 

02. Take the Leap, by Penknife.  Hardison POV, first time OT3 threesome/verbal domination. The characterization in this is just **chef’s kiss** perfection. Funny, and hot. My favorite combo. 

03. The Post-Rundown Job, by DelektorskiChick.  Eliot POV, demi-Parker, mostly Eliot/Hardison but Parker’s participating in her own way. I’m a sucker for some good sexy post-injury care and this is right after Rundown, so it checks that box big time. 

04. In Sync, by monsoon_moon. Eliot POV, first time OT3some. 

Character studies: 

01. Dawning, by @darkfinch. Eliot POV, mind all the warnings.  This (read with its sequel, a WIP linked below) is probably one of my favorite Leverage pieces in existence? It is just the most beautiful, dark, horrible look at Eliot-works-for-Moreau you could hope for, except that also there’s a sequel called Reverberate, and that is also perfect and intense and really digs into what’s happening in Eliot’s mind and life during s3 after Nate drops the “we’re going after Moreau” bombshell. Both of these stories are painfully perfect and believable and real and I love them with my whole heart. The story structure and writing on both of those pieces is just excellent and the characterization is pitch perfect, and along with the stress and trauma you really get some just fantastic character moments. Idky you’re reading my review instead of the story tbh go read that, thanks!

02. Ten Prides in Portland, by @leiascully.  I put this as a character study because it is one? It’s about queer shit, and learning to be part of a community of queer people, and learning that you can be a mentor and a role model for other queer people even if you don’t have your own stuff figured out. I am extremely biased because this is my wife and I got to watch this story grow into existence every day, but I think it’s a really beautiful look at the queer community broadly, all the people who fit under the umbrella, and belonging. It’s sweet and funny and beautiful, and I really needed to feel like I was at Pride this year, and this helped. 

03. Different, by @leiascully. Hardison POV. Honestly this just made me want to go find baby Hardison and hug him for a really long time. 

04. The Twine and the Things We Bind, by @darkfinch.  WIP, H/C, big on the H. Parker and Hardison taking care of an extremely fractious, extremely injured Eliot Spencer is my jam.com forever and this is all of that with beautiful characterization and writing. Also some of the best action scenes I’ve read in a while. I do not write action At All and this does it SO WELL. 

05. A Kiss for Luck, by AlannaOfRoses.  Parker POV. A good look into Parker’s thoughts on luck during the Rundown Job/feelsy flashbacks. 

OC/Outsider POV: 

01. Let’s Go Steal a Protege, by @innytoes. WIP.  Gosh I adore this. It’s found family shenanigans from an outside-the-OT3 perspective. Jamie, the main POV OC (nonbinary rep!!), is a fucking delight of a human and their interactions with the super!married OT3 are all incredible. It is sweet and funny and sometimes sad but almost always in a happy tears kind of way, because it’s about finding a family. And there are so many genuine laugh-out-loud moments in this fic that I reread it a lot lately or think of it when I need something to lift my spirits. (There is a bit in chapter six with some thrift store purchases that I just absolutely lose my shit at every time.) I very badly want this story to just be canon tbh. Petition for that. 

AU’s

01. The Out of This World Job (Or, Per Furtum Ad Astra), by pathera.  It’s a job, but it’s IN SPACE. Parker, Hardison, & Eliot find a spaceship; shenanigans ensue. Beautifully in character, some poignant character moments, awesome writing, and just a really vivid world. 

02. Plastic Pearls, by BabylonsFall.  Kidfic! Various POV. Parker and Hardison move in across the hall from single-dad Eliot. I adore this, it is sweet and soft and everything you could hope for in a story where Eliot is raising a smol Molly. 

[3hobbitsinatrenchcoat]

Fic Writer Interview

I was tagged by @determamfidd Thanks!!!

How many works do you have on AO3? 

haaaaaaaaaaaaa 85

What's your total AO3 word count? 

233,436 (I mostly write shorts and one-shots sooooo)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? 

Gravity Falls and The Hobbit are up there in the 20s, but I also write for Star Trek occasionally. I dabbled in FFXV a few years ago and that was fun. Got a long fic there I gotta finish someday.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Shift in Perspective, Outside Observation, An Ever-fixed Mark, Begin Anew, Heavens Look Down

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try. Sometimes just with a quick “thanks.” but if people ask questions I try to answer. Most of the time. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and just. Don’t.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

For which fandom >.> For Gravity Falls it is The Guttering Candlelight of a Tired Soul and for Tolkien it is Someone to Stand Beside You. Fair warning, both of these contain Major Character Death

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've written?

Sometimes. The craziest one would probably be Clawthorne, Pines, and Associate: Running From the Law just because it’s silly. XD

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

*cracks knuckles* so. Imagine you’re 13. You just poured your heart and soul into your first fic that you were truly proud of. You post it on Ye Olde FFnet. Within hours you get your first comment and it says “Goodness, terrible.”

and then the rest of the flames start pouring in, calling a character you didn’t even create, that was from a video game, a mary sue. Saying you need to clearly reread tolkien’s works because you don’t know what you’re talking about. To “do more research”. There are nine reviews on that work and I remember the hateful words clearly. I stopped writing for almost 8 years.

So yes. I have received hate. It was Really Bad. 

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Abso-fucking-lutely. I write a lot of self-insert for Gravity Falls, but I also like writing everything else >.>

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, though that would be pretty cool

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah! A Glass Divide was a collab!

What's your all time favorite ship?

I’m a chronic multishipper buuuut my first favorite ship was Faramir and Eowyn, to the point that it influenced my own wedding. Blue and silver stars my beloved

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I hate to say this about any of my WIPs but I have a bunch of half finished Star Trek and Gravity Falls stuff laying around that has a beginning and an end and no middle and I hate it.

What are your writing strengths?

Smut. I wish I was kidding but I can crank out 5k of smut no problem. As me to write 5k of anything else and I suffer. It’s the internal dialogue and the sensory descriptions for me.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to skip big emotional bits to get to the next plot point and then have to go add it back in. Also having to fight the voice of my high school lit teacher telling me to “dollarize” words and never start sentences with the same word twice and avoid cliches. 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

As long as I can translate it properly, little snippets is fine, but any substantial dialogue should be in the primary fic language just for ease of access.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnny Tremaine. I dictated it to my mom and she typed it out on her electric typewriter. I was like... 8.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

Gosh, that’s hard. I have a lot of favorites but I think I am most proud of how do i feel at the end of the day and Fortnight to Yuletide because they’re the longest things I have ever finished. That said, Packing Heat  makes me laugh uncontrollably for all that I am the one that wrote it XD.

I’m gonna taaaaag @fallen-gravity and @funkingrunkles and @hunklejunk and @avi17 

yall have fun. 

[avversiera-writes]

try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Then

Summary: Tobirama frets as the pregnancy is well on its way. Just lots of sweet things.

Word Count: ~ 3.5k

available on AO3. 

Chapter 1 - Now | Chapter 2 - Then, part 1 | Chapter 2 - Then, part 2 | Chapter 3 - Now | Chapter 4 - Then | Chapter 5 - Then | Chapter 6 - Now |

Tobirama sighs, as he is very displeased at the news that the Hyuuga and Uchiha clans are becoming more and more exclusive. It is always the clans that have pride in their power that want more and only seek to better their own. That is always a threat to the village, and Tobirama cannot let this grow and take root. 

 He reviews the complaints of the two clans in his home office, becoming very disturbed that there are possible dissenters inside the village. This is a fragile time, especially with the coming peace ceremony later in the year. 

 He supposes that this is the result of Madara’s defection. He knows that there are some power grabs inside the Uchiha clan, even if they have chosen to stay in the village. They have been without a clan leader for a while, and tensions of picking the candidates are making the rest of the village uneasy. Meanwhile, the Hyuuga clan are becoming notorious for their branding of their own members if they are not part of the main family. While Tobirama thinks that he ought to leave them to their own business, this cannot be a reason why the Hyuuga cannot participate within Konoha. Prides must be set aside in order for this place to thrive. 

And this place must be made safer, especially when he has a child on the way. Especially when he and his wife are planning to bring more children into this world. 

The acceptance of this shakes him to the very core, and he is scrambling to prepare everything before they are even a thought in their minds. He cannot just have quiet , he wants peace . 

 Does he not, especially his elder brother and the rest of their family, deserve peace? 

It feels like he has been fighting forever. 

//

“Are you certain you want to accompany me today?” Tobirama crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows in that haughty way he does when he is confident he knows better. 

 You make a face at him as you try on the next dress in your closet, as nothing seems to fit you today. You note the changes your body is going through, and some of it, are not fun. Especially when you feel all bloated and soft in places you used to be toned in. Your lower belly is beginning to feel firm, and you notice that walking up the stairs leaves you a little winded. 

“Yes, husband, I am certain,” you say as you struggle to tie your clothing close. “I have been cooped up in this fortress we call home.”

 Tobirama sighs and he comes closer to help you. “I don’t think it’s wise.”

 “Tobirama, you’re going to be with me all the time,” you reply and you turn to him so that he can tie your dress in front. “Besides, Kimiko says exercise is good for me and the baby.” 

Tobirama’s eyes narrow, seemingly sold on the argument of what is good for you and his child so he does not say anything else to further his statement. 

You peek at yourself in the mirror. “I don’t think this is what I should wear.”

 Tobirama stares at you incredulously. “This is the fifth time you have changed clothes. We have no time for this.” 

 “But it’s tight!” You whine as you grab another robe from the closet. 

 “Every clothing you try on is tight!”

 “Are you saying I’m fat?” You turn to him fiercely, and you put a hand on your hip. 

Tobirama seems to groan internally. “Do you want me to insinuate that you are?” 

 You wag your finger at him to warn him. “Try again.” 

 Tobirama crosses his arm, unimpressed. “I will ask someone to replace your clothes. It will be done before we even come back home.” 

 You sigh, a little annoyed, but for now, his answer calms you. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

Tobirama puts a hand behind your back as he walks beside you. “You are becoming more impossible to reason with, day by day.”

 “I am just trying to act like you,” you tell him, trying to joke, but your annoyance is also building up minute by minute. 

 “Do better,” Tobirama eggs on. 

 “You are not helping,” you snap and you give him a glare. 

Tobirama raises an eyebrow, preemptively amused. “Is this the kind of attitude you intend to bring in our meeting with the clan leader of Hyuuga and his wife?” 

 “I am very amicable,” you huff.

 “Yes, your amicable state will certainly help foster a good conversation with them.” 

You roll your eyes, and at this point, you’re surprised your eyes have not permanently stayed rolled back. 

 “You roll your eyes, but you know that I am right.” 

 “Shut the hell up,” you mutter. 

Tobirama looks like he is about to laugh. “Is that how you talk to the Hokage?” 

 “I can talk to the Hokage any way I want,” you bite back. 

“See, I think you really do have authority problems,” Tobirama says dryly.

 As the two of you take to the streets, you walk together in silence, observing and greeting the people you pass by. Being outside finally settles your annoyance, and you feel proud of your husband for having a huge hand in creating the environment around you. There are people, children and women, smiling. They have homes, and they can go about their business without worrying too much about the outside dangers. They do not have to raise their children in a war zone. 

 You spot a few shops that sell clothing for babies and your heart softens. Soon, you will be buying those for your child. You also spot a furniture store that has several wooden cribs, and your gaze linger on each one. 

Then, the two of you pass by some restaurants, and the smell that wafts through the air, while usually appealing, makes you nauseous. You hurry your steps so that you can avoid breathing in these scents, but that is your mistake, as you tend to have a faster rate of breathing these days. 

 You pause, as your head suddenly becomes light and the feeling on your hands and feet becomes lost. 

 “Oh,” you close your eyes and shudder, and immediately, Tobirama is right beside you to steady you. 

Tobirama’s hand is tight around your arm, and you lean on him for support. 

“We are going back home.” Tobirama begins to lean down to take your legs so that he can carry you. 

 “I am fine,” you stop him. “Kimiko says that getting light-headed is normal.” 

 “Do not depend on her too much.” 

You roll your eyes. “Her family is well-versed with these things.” 

 “You are naive sometimes.” 

 “What is that supposed to mean?” You frown at him. 

 “I am just giving you advice. Just because these servants work for us, does not mean we should trust them completely.” Tobirama straightens up and runs a hand through his hair. “Besides, she is too close to us, in a way that you were her child’s sensei and I am still the Hokage responsible for everyone .” 

Your Senju husband is right. How it irks you, but you know that he is. 

“Yes, fine. I know,” you say, and Tobirama seems satisfied with your answer. 

 “Stick close,” Tobirama murmurs, and he pulls you closer to him. You sense that he is more wary than before, but you take comfort that he will not let anything happen to you. 

//

The whole ordeal with the Hyuuga takes the whole afternoon, but you make yourself by gossiping with the clan leader’s wife and finding out information from her by interjecting your conversations with vague questions after establishing some rapport. You also eat all the snacks that were served, mostly the sweeter rice cakes as you cannot get enough of them. 

 You find out that the next heir of the clan is chosen and that she is making the arrangements to choose who they will be wedded to when they turn of age. 

Learning about the clans makes you open your mind a little bit more. The Senju run things differently, since they allow marriage with those who are not part of the clan or whoever they choose to marry. You would think that they are strict about this, but because they are also the village in a way, they must allow other allowances. This makes the whole village their family now. 

The sliding doors of the room you are in open, and a maid on her knees bows. 

 “My lady, Lord Nidaime is waiting for you,” she says. 

“I will be there, thank you,” you tell her. 

You say your goodbyes and well-wishes to the clan leader’s wife, and then, you follow the maid to the gates, where your husband is standing with a hand behind his back. He looks rather inquisitive, but his eyes snap in attention when his gaze lands on you. 

You follow him out, and when you are a little far from the Hyuuga compound, you match your steps with your husband.

 “So?” You inquire. 

 Tobirama shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure that they will abide by the village’s laws. They can have their clan practices, but the duty to the village is absolute.”

 “Tobirama, their clan’s practice is not exactly–”

 “I know,” Tobirama says. “But as long as it does not interfere with the running of the village, and they do not cause any more divides, I cannot really interfere.” 

You frown, but you know that this is the way things are. “What are you going to do about the Uchiha clan?” 

 You can see the gears turning in Tobirama’s head. “Nothing solid, yet.” 

 “But you do have a plan.” 

 “Something like that.” 

You reach for his elbow. “Tobirama.” 

 Your husband turns to you and he sighs. “I do not intend to put them in the back burner, if that is what you are thinking. They are part of the village, and therefore, they are important people. You know that I am fair, and that I only serve to make sure Konoha prospers."

The two of you pause, and a soft breeze caresses the strands of your hair back. 

 “They must champion the village. That is all I ask. These clans in this village, they have their pride and individuality. We cannot be Konohagakure if we are already divided within. I am not a fool to not realize that we always have differences."  

Tobirama places his hands on your arms, and he meets your eyes. “But we all have to live in harmony if we are to model peace. We are an example to the people outside of this country and the reason why I make allies with other villages. If they see how we work, maybe they will follow in our lead.” 

You hear the trees rustle their leaves, and the birds chirping nearby. Somewhere near, a river runs peacefully, rushing and following their current. The sun feels cooler on your back, as compared to earlier.

“You do too much, Lord Nidaime,” you cannot help a wry smile from coming out. “You dream of world peace?”

 Tobirama shakes his head. “Not dreams. Dreams are futile and without basis. This is a plan for the long-term.” 

 “People are different, you know, not everyone will fall in line,” you say. 

 “I know,” Tobirama says. “But I am counting on their dreams of a better place to make my plans happen.” 

 “You have too many plans, my love.”

The term of endearment colors Tobirama’s ears. “Yes, but they do work amazingly.”

 You chuckle. “Now, that is your ego talking. I should insult you some more to put you in your place.”

Tobirama softens, and he tugs you along so that the two of you are walking again. “I think you have done enough insulting me for a lifetime.”

 “Ah, but that is what you signed up for, Lord Nidaime.” You bump your shoulder on his arm. “‘Til death do us part, remember?” 

 “Yes, yes, I remember, unfortunately,” Tobirama dryly says. “Though I have a feeling you will still be as biting in our afterlife.” 

 “True, enough.” You giggle and you slip your arm into his. 

Tobirama does not pull away, and it makes you grin secretly. 

//

The morning sickness comes, and maybe, you think that morning sickness is an understatement. It is more like, an all-day sickness. An all-day sickness that does not abate no matter how much vomiting you do. 

 You have made a friend with your toilet, and you are awfully running on empty. Tears and sweat run down your skin, and your throat burns. 

You try not to ask too much from your husband or Kimiko, so you try to force yourself to stop being sick. You press your forehead on the floor to cool yourself, and when you come to, you find your husband placing a cup of ginger tea in your line of sight. 

 “Shadow clone?” You ask him. 

 Tobirama smiles amusedly. “This is why I never do this. I know you prefer him and his full attention.” 

You roll your eyes. “Sometimes shadow clones are better.” 

 “I am insulted.”

 “Why? I just said I prefer you at times.” 

 “On behalf of my original, I am insulted. Apart from him, I am rather flattered.”

“You are also quite the talker. Do shadow clones adapt their own personalities when they are far from their original?” 

 Tobirama inches the cup forward so that you are prompted to pick it up. “That is an interesting hypothesis. One that we will put to test later.” 

 You take a sip from the tea. “Tell me more, my shadow clone of a husband.” 

“Or maybe we take slivers of his personality and become heightened.” 

 “Hm,” you say. You narrow your eyes at him. “How come you never use shadow clones in the bedroom? We could surely use another one of you.” 

 The Tobirama in front of you becomes red in the neck. You see his jaw tense. 

“What?” You prompt. 

 “This is a conversation between you and him .” Tobirama’s shadow clone disperses itself and you laugh to yourself, knowing that this conversation will become part of Tobirama’s memory. 

The ginger tea helps relieve your sickness, and after finishing it, you finally make it out of your bathroom, as you are starving, and you know you need some sustenance, no matter how much you may dislike the foods presented for you. 

You decrease your interactions with Kimiko, but you express your gratitude towards her whenever she is there to assist you. When you are not keen to eat the foods that are cooked, she is the one planning and preparing the meal, filled with the nutrition that you need to keep a healthy body. You do not want to seem like you are high up in your horse, so you always make it a point to thank her. 

 You do keep in mind what your husband has told you, and because this is your first child, you want to be extra careful because you are new to this. You do not really know what to expect. 

//

Your husband is as usual, busy with work, as the time for the peace ceremony closes. You can tell that he is a little frantic, but he is good at compartmentalizing and it comes out in his organized chaotic ways. You try to help him out when he is at home, but you tire very easily now, and you spend most of your days sleeping. 

 From time to time, Tobirama puts a hand on your growing womb, probably checking you and the child you are carrying. You find it sweet, and you know without a doubt that he will do his best as a father. Besides, Tobirama always gives his all. You wish to know about what is running in his mind, but he has a tendency to ruminate within. 

In one of your better days, where you are not throwing up or being moody for no reason, you pry a few words from your husband. The two of you are lying on your bed, where most of your important conversations happen. Beside you, he is relaxed, and the tension on his shoulders and his forehead are relieved at the moment. 

“Are you alright?” You ask him. 

 Tobirama watches your face, his eyes flitting to your forehead, your nose, your lips. “Why do you ask?” 

 “I can tell that there is a lot on your mind.” 

 “As always, right?” Tobirama says in a lighter tone. 

 “But I can tell that it’s not just about your peace negotiations and your other political ambitions.”

Tobirama blinks, probably surprised that you are watching him too closely. He is not used to that. No one really tries to make sure that he is okay, except for you, because it is expected that he has got it all together. 

 He does not. 

“You are right,” Tobirama finally replies after a long minute. “I fret about being a father.” 

 “Why?” 

 “Children are fragile things,” Tobirama begins. “Of course, I have many experiences with them, as I did have a role in raising my nephews and my students, but they are not my own. I am afraid that I will be like my father, that one day, I will realize and understand his point of view. That what he did will be justified and therefore, I have to resort to his ways.” 

You bring a hand to his face. “Tobirama, you are not your father. You have made your own way thus far, you do not need to follow his suit. You told me that he never hesitated to raise a hand to his children, and while I know that you are strict, you have reasons and your own logic that never fails you. I know that you will never hurt your own children, and that whatever decision you do will be to ensure their safety.” 

 Tobirama falls silent and his eyes focus on you. 

“Besides, I will be the one you will have to contend with if you do go too far,” you smile, and caress his cheek with your thumb. “Oh, my love. The fact that you worry about what you might do shows that you have given much thought and reflection on being a father.” 

 “What if I cannot be there to support them in a way that they need? You know how we are. They may hate me.” 

 “Well, maybe when they’re teenagers, they will hate you, but that is normal, on the grand scale of things.” 

Tobirama’s forehead crinkles. 

“You know, I am also scared about being a mother,” you confess to him so that you can alleviate his feelings. 

 Tobirama’s eyes widened for a fraction. “You? Someone as fearless and bold as you is afraid?”

 “Very funny, Lord Nidaime,” you comment sarcastically. “Well for one, I will be the one to push out this child.” 

 Tobirama raises an eyebrow. 

 “And,” you continue. “Most problems that daughters have are with their mother.”

You pause, and you look at his expression and you let out a sigh. “You know, my parents never told me that they loved me. Never let me know in any way. For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me. They never let me know they cared, and I felt like I was only born to be expendable.” 

 Tobirama takes your hand from his face and kisses your knuckles. Of course, he would know how that felt like.

“I could never do that to my own child,” you tell him. “If I have to, I will let them know that I love them every day. I will never make them feel like they have been abandoned.” 

 Tobirama blinks, and a soft expression spreads across his face. “I have no doubt that our children will be okay under your care.” 

 You narrow your eyes at him. “You better pick up some slack on fathering.” 

 “Of course,” Tobirama murmurs and he seems taken aback that you even think to say this. “I promise to you that they will be safe, and that they will know the tender side of childhood. They will be happy.” 

“That’s a big promise, Lord Nidaime,” you lean towards him. “You know well the dangers of big promises.” 

 “ I know ,” Tobirama whispers. “But I must try.” 

Tobirama offers his arm, and you come to him and press your body against his. Your head rests between his neck and shoulder, and his arms come around your head and waist. You feel sleep coming on to you like a heavy blanket, and as you give in, you hear him say those three words that you have always waited and yearned to hear. 

To be continued...

Chapter 8 - Then >>

[avidbeader]

CW: Voltron S8 talk, VLD S8 talk, Shiro’s marriage, ship wars

I’ve been seeing an influx of new VLD fans in the last several months – guess people have more time to watch shows – and it’s brought in a new wave of Sheith fans. And that’s lovely – having more people to create and cheer is a good thing. I know I’ve pointed a lot of people at “Sheith the Movie” so they can have just the Sheith (all 3.5 hours of their scenes with some context) if they want.

However, even if the new fans have been aware of how toxic the klanti shippers were (Klance fans who resorted to slander, harassment, and threats to both other fans and the show’s cast and crew in an attempt to force the studio to make their ship canon), I’m seeing some conflict crop up because some new fans aren’t aware of just how ugly things got in 2018, that most of the people who embraced Shiro and the random groom as a ship were the same people who had spent the previous two years attacking Sheith fans.

In June, we had Season 6. Keith and Lance interaction was at an all-time low. Keith said “I love you” to Shiro in what he thought was a dying confession. Yes, it was preceded by “You’re my brother (in arms)”, but interviews with showrunners like story editor Josh Hamilton made it clear that Keith was trying his best to encapsulate just how important Shiro was to him (without saying that they almost certainly had to include the “brother” line to give DW executives plausible deniability).

In July, we had the SDCC showing of Season 7’s first episode and the confirmation that Shiro is an LGBT character. Klance fans jumped all over the character of Shiro’s ex-boyfriend Adam, because in their minds he would be the key to invalidating Sheith. The media properly observed that Shiro and Adam had broken up over very profound issues and drew the conclusion that if Shiro were to get an on-screen romance in the remainder of the series, Keith was the obvious choice.

In August, we had Season 7. Instead of the heartfelt Shiro/Adam reunion klantis were salivating for, we saw Adam get killed in the Galra invasion. And the klantis rose up, hurling so many unjustified accusations of “fridging” or “bury your gays” over a minor character with a total of maybe three minutes of screen time, that JDS actually had to put his name to an unnecessary apology from the studio.

We also had Keith and Shiro’s backstory, showing just how close of friends they became after Shiro helped Keith join the Garrison, AND Keith saving Shiro yet again. While Lance and Allura continued to grow closer. Because it was clear that the producers had never once considered making Keith and Lance a thing, klanti fans went ballistic with their slander, accusing Sheith of being pedophilic and incestuous when neither accusation has any canon basis at all.

And in December, we got Season 8. Season 8 with a mostly new set of writers who didn’t do their research. Season 8 that tried to cram in too much excess content while finishing up a major plotline. Season 8 that finally showed that the producers had never fully thought through or sought input for handling Shiro, a character they’d originally planned to kill off, decided to make their LGBT rep when told to keep him, and then failed to pick up the strong story arcs he had in the first seasons. And because studio execs gave JDS and LM a single day to change their epilogue cards from minor characters to the main team, we got the very bad decision to marry Shiro off to a random character.

(And the character was random. Stills were leaked that showed Shiro kissing a character that had been seen once in the very first episode, but was too obviously a reference to a character in another series. It clearly didn’t matter to JDS/LM or the people above them who Shiro married as long as it wasn’t another main character. Because we’ve barely passed the point where we can have more than one character of a certain race in the main cast, much less multiple LGBT characters.)

Like they did with Adam, klantis jumped all over “Curtis” as their savior, because to them this should have killed Sheith fandom. And a great many Sheith fans did leave, angry and hurt, not because their ship wasn’t canon (very few Sheith fans expected more than an open ending) but because the concept of Shiro marrying some random character with absolutely no buildup undercut the notion of Shiro as a strong example of LGBT rep. Because those endcards erased every single character’s growth through the series, not just Shiro’s.

Media saw the ploy for what it was, a clumsy attempt to try and reach for a historic milestone when today’s audiences aren’t looking for milestones anymore. Today’s audiences want to be included in the entire narrative. No one talks about Shiro’s wedding as a good example of rep. In mainstream pop media, no one talks about Shiro at all, in contrast to the celebrations post-SDCC. When articles are written about progress in children’s media, Shiro is never included on the list. It’s only this past June, 2020, that DreamWorks shoved Shiro into the background of a collage of LGBT characters from their cartoons, WITHOUT his desultory groom.

LGBT fans, especially gay men, saw the ploy for what it was. Just as the media collectively set Shiro’s wedding aside when talking about positive LGBT rep, gay men spoke out against it. Too bad they didn’t get any kind of apology from DW and the best JDS/LM could say on their one appearance on an “Afterbuzz” was “But we tried! Something was better than nothing!”

And the majority of Sheith fans who remained in the fandom collectively jettisoned Season 8 and began producing even more content. There have been schisms and fallouts, mainly over whether/how carefully to tag for content that includes Adam or “Curtis”, but the fandom as a whole has continued to produce fic, art, vids, and merch. There’s a reason people outside the fandom groan “Sheith in 2020?” There’s a reason antis continue to push their lies about the ship. We haven’t let go of what we love, we continue to create, and we continue to attract new fans.

But most of us do not want to engage in any way with “Curtis” content unless a fix-it is involved (and sometimes not even then – for many of us, Season 8 does not exist). We don’t care about a character who had zero interaction with Shiro before the endcard, whose name isn’t even spoken once in the show’s dialogue – the only reasons we know it are the IMDB credits and one reference in the close-captions identifying who is speaking (and there’s stronger evidence to show that “Curtis” is a last name, not a first name).

If other people find enough of an attachment to this character to ship him, fine. You do you. But most Sheith fans expect those who support Shiro’s wedding to be klantis and therefore look to avoid conflict by minimizing contact. We do not forget. We do not forgive. We just want to be left alone to enjoy our ship in peace.

[docholligay]

Beast of Burden

Just me on my shit, noodling as I wait for Jewlet. This takes place after Pigeons and Park and the Weight of Love, like, immediately after. 1600 words. 

The day was grey and cloudy, but it didn’t seem dreary to Tracer. She loved the grey of London, as she often observed that one never could appreciate the sunshine properly if they saw it every day, and what’s more, it made the bright colors she favored stand out all the more. In fact, the world had never seemed more wonderful to her, as she sat across from her best friend of many years, the two of them going back and forth over the menu as the day went on around them. 

Winston had been reticent, at first, to come. He was always a bit nervous, going anywhere he hadn’t been several times before, and sometimes even places he had been. It was understandable, Tracer supposed, given how many people were silly enough to be afraid of him, but the only way to show them what a gentle soul he was, was to show them what a gentle soul he was. She was very keen on this now, on having the entire world see him as she did. 

They never really understood him, and she always wished she could make them see all the kindnesses he had done for her, how loving he was with children, how incredibly loyal he was. He would always be a protector of London, even if it was not natural in him to fight. 

And all this might have overwhelmed anyone else, but Lena Oxton, aviatrix and Overwatch commander, was determined to enjoy the day. The grey day was her beloved London at its most London, the Royal Inn was lovely, even if the menu was a bit fussy for Tracer’s personal tastes, and if people could not see the wonder, warmth, and goodness of her best friend, it only gave her the opportunity to make them see. 

“Do you want to just get the cheese board, and maybe the vegetable one, too?” Winston took a delicate sip of his beer and looked over the menu. 

Tracer turned from her thoughts and looked over and Winston, placing a hand under her chin. “Bit rich, calling themselves a pub with a roasted vegetable board.” 

Winston chuckled. “You can always get the fish and chips, Lena.” 

“Don’t tempt me!” She grinned brightly and tossed back a drink of her own, but then shook her head. “Let’s us share, just as you said.” 

Tracer looked out from the tiny table, tucked beneath the awning. The patio was mostly empty today, owing to the weather, but that was all the better for Winston, who always worried about bumping people, or feeling that he was crowding them. Yes, it was a lovely day, and nothing--

“What made you want to finally get into this place today? Thinking about the wedding?”

It was a simple sentence, and one that Tracer should have been well prepared for, and yet it struck her as neatly as that romantic horse drawn cab nearly had only an hour ago. She had run to Winston first, because Winston would tell her how to tell Emily, but oh, how could she tell Emily? To tell her, and ask what of her next? A future with Tracer had always been a bit of a daring thing, but it was one thing to ask her to dare, and another to ask her to set herself up for a fall. 

There was a deep longing within her to throw herself across the table into his arms, to bury her head in his shoulder and cry and cry and just let it wash out of her. 

Oh Win, I’m dying, Win. Ang’s done so much and she’s tried so ‘ard and even she brought someone in from America, supposed to be the best, but Moira broke me so well, Win. She broke me so well. I’m so frightened, Win, not even of being dead--but also I don’t want to be dead, I love being alive, love me life, love London and Emily and you and Overwatch and the fat little pigeons on the street in the morning and the fog and damp--but Win, I don’t know what it’ll be like to die. Sounds as if there’s a long road ahead, and I’m so frightened. Sounds as if no one knows. Sounds as if it’ll take me piece by piece. It’ll just keep taking, and we don’t what next. Win, I’m dying. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to be taken bite by bite.  

She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him so badly. To tell someone about the thing that lay in her heart.  It was what she had brought him here to do. She wanted to tell him, and go back to his house, and snuggle on his couch, and be afraid together. 

“Lena?” He called her name softly and she looked up from the menu, tears in her eyes, “Lena, what’s wrong?” 

Tracer opened her mouth, taking in all of him. How concerned he looked, how carefully he studied her. Everything would be different, once she told him the truth. He would cry. He’d be so sad. And there was nothing he could do, except be scared and upset right along with her. Winston would never look at her the same, after. He would never treat her the same. She had brought him here to tell him, and she could not possibly tell him. Not if she wanted to still be Lena. 

She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Trapped in a memory is all, you know ‘ow I get sometimes.” 

He looked at her carefully, finger pinched around his glass of water. “When you...you don’t really act like...you just seem different.” 

Tracer shook her head again, and gave a big grin. “Only that. Under a bit of pressure with Fareeha, is all, and she doesn’t mean it, mind, just quite a bit going on with her, as well. The both of us ‘aving so much to plan for, and all. Bit ‘arder to close the door against those little gusts of wind, right?” 

Winston studied her for a moment, and then seemed to decide that she had to be telling the truth. Of course he would think that. He trusted her, and he loved her, and he believed that she would tell him anything. She didn’t prefer to lie to him. Only to protect him, right?

Besides, Mercy hadn’t completely given up yet, hadn’t she? She was only telling Tracer what she thought would be true, because Mercy was so honest, and didn’t want to mislead her. So she was being a bit grim, and that was her right, Tracer supposed, but it didn’t mean that the game was fully over, not quite yet. Still a few moments on the clock, right? Of course right. 

She bounced along quickly. “Been meaning to ask what it is you have planned for me hen do.” 

Winston’s eyes flashed with excitement. “I’ve been thinking, now, I know it’s not very fun, the idea of staying in at my house, but I could clear everything out, and get a DJ or something, and of course I would have us go out for dinner first, well, if you don’t like it…” 

“Oh no, Win, I love it already.” Her voice, she knew, was soft and faraway. Drifting. 

It sounded wonderful. It sounded like a night with all her favorite people, laughing and dancing and carrying on, celebrating everything that had come before, and all the wonderful things that were to come. It sounded like being alive and happy and hopeful and all the things that she had taken for herself, every day of her life. She had lived so hard and so full, knowing that someday she’d likely be caught. 

“Fareeha has already said she’ll come, but I think Angela would like to go with Emily..”

“Of course. I love that they’re friends.” 

She did. She knowing that Emily would have someone in their little group when she was gone, have someone who could bear any of the questions or medical talk that might come up. She loved knowing there would be something for Emily, the same way she loved that Winston had her last name and her family, the same way she loved knowing that London would always stand, and she would always be a part of London., the same way she loved the pigeons that cooed outside her window and the drizzle that fell in the fall without stopping. She loved it all, loved her entire world with abandon. 

Which was why she had to protect it. 

Put it away, Lena. The day will come regardless, and you don’t have to ruin the loveliness of the day, the loveliness of this life, for Winston, for Emily, for anyone. There’s always time to tell them later, right? Just wait. Maybe Ang will find something. Maybe you’ll drop dead, and there’ll be no need to have caused them to dwell on this. Close the door on it and make it force its way in. Don’t ever welcome it. The moment you tell them is the moment everything changes. The moment you become sick. Remember Mum. Remember how people looked at her, when they knew. 

You’re strong, Lena, and you can carry this alone. It’ll be so much harder for them than it is for you. 

Tracer grinned brightly up at Winston. 

“You’ve thought ever so much about this, ‘aven’t you then? Never could ‘ave come up with ‘alf these ideas, me! Knew you’d be the right pick.” 

He smiled modestly, but from the way his chest stuck out, he was obvious pleased at her approval. 

Today was the day she had learned. Today was the day she had to know what Mercy knew. But no one else had to know it, not to so long as she could walk that tightrope and keep it from them. Let them enjoy the flowers and forget the frost. Can’t change it anyhow. May as well soak in every beautiful moment, as it comes. She certainly intended to. 

I don’t want to die. 

Well, she may have to die. Moira might have seen to to that. But Moira could not take her life. She would live just the same as she always had, the only revenge she could offer a dead woman. Tracer would live in the sun, and never acknowledge the storm. Her family would never know the weight of it, the weight of loving someone bound to die, who was not yet done living. 

She and Mercy would hold it between themselves, like a pact. 

Tracer would see to that. 

[linssikeittomies]

The Place Between Here And There - Chapter 10: ...And Happiness In Private Life(cont'd)

Masterpost AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7  Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 9(cont'd)

I've finally updated the status of the fic to ABANDONED, I was going to do that way earlier but I didn't want to admit defeat, and then I just kind of forgot... Time really starts flying by as you get older, it totally doesn't feel like 2 years passed by^^' I'm still writing scenes for later on in the fic, and I've had the general outline of the story planned for a long time, but I haven't been able to write complete chapters for any of my projects for over a year now, it's very annoying. Anyway, this is the rest of chapter 9, not my best work but at least I like the part with Toris. He's noticed Ivan's small efforts of being nicer and wants to encourage them. Thanks for everyone who read this story and sorry for not being able to bring it to conclusion for all of you who were invested!

-

Ivan sent Fredya home until Wednesday – claiming it was so he could concentrate on work, but he was sure Fredya could tell he was just fretting about the upcoming meeting. Ivan was terrified Katyushka would get carried away, and that was closer to certainty rather than possibility, and then Fredya would walk out of his life. He had known from the start that the time would come sooner or later, but he had much hoped it would fall on the later end of the spectrum. This was a wholly different case from that of his first girlfriend - the one he had been with all of three days before Katyusha started talking about weddings. She had left him the next day, not surprisingly, and he hadn’t really cared one way or the other - she had been far too practical to occupy his thoughts when she wasn’t in sight. But if Fredya left as suddenly, and he was certainly impulsive enough to do so on the spot, then... Obviously it still wouldn’t be the end of the world,of course it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, losing a home for example would be far worse than losing a companion, it really wasn’t that big of an issue when you thought about it – there was no reason to lose what little will to live Ivan had left over something that insignificant. No reason.

So Ivan would not worry about it – he slammed the door on the thought, and worked hard to put all his concentration on his notes. He had not yet studied Rogers enough, his files on the computer had sat abandoned for too long. Opening his folder, going over the routes again, verifying time codes, Ivan fell to a comfortable, familiar routine, cup of tea beside him growing cold. Rogers didn’t have much of a routine, which made observing him a challenge and data collecting a thrill. At least this was an activity that Ivan could still lose himself in despite whatever non-turmoil was boiling in his gut. Comparing coordinates, discovering overlaps, identifying patterns, data was something Ivan was good at. Data had no emotions, so it was easy to handle. Data didn’t mind his extracurriculars, didn’t judge him for his jealousy, didn’t snoop into his past. Though it also didn’t text him at 3 am to tell him about a silly dream it had. Even less it cared about whether he was coming home for the night or not. It not wanting to watch brainless, cliched superhero should have been a positive, but in the dark, the brain gets sentimental. Ivan suddenly wished he had a file on Fredya. Ivan certainly had enough data on him, though so far it was all in his brain and a few lines in his notebooks. One photo on his phone, a selfie Fredya had sent some weeks ago. It was taken with one of those filter things, Ivan wasn’t familiar with the apps so he couldn’t tell if it was instagram or snappychat or whatever others there were. Fredya had cartoon glasses on his nose, on top of his real-life glasses. He was doing a victory sign, and there was a badly drawn pink heart floating in the lower left corner, not anchored into anything. The composition of the photo was bad. A large dead space occupied the top left, a pile of dirty clothes was poking into the frame from the bottom right. The lighting was scarcely better, the only diffuser was the dust inside the light fixture. Fredya’s artistic ability was nil, though he did make for an attractive subject, harsh shadows and all. It would be nice to have proper photo of him, before he got out of reach. With a reference to guide him, it might be possible. Ivan quickly scanned his bedroom for inspiration.

Perhaps it was too much effort for 2 a.m., but Ivan rather liked the end result. The handful of stars drawn on the wall to form a suggestion of a halo – however wrong it looked on Ivan – and hands posed to form a heart on the chest, and some minor lighting adjustments on photoshop, he thought it near perfectly captured how Ivan saw Fredya. Bright, innocent, center of the universe, unashamed of his affections. Fredya wouldn’t put as much effort in to it, even if he did take his own version of the photo as Ivan had requested, but that was also good. It wasn’t in Fredya’s nature to try too hard at something he didn’t feel like understanding - such as art other than of the moving pictures variety. Together, the photos formed a piece – the fantasy and the reality. It was a commentary on expectations. Fredya may or may not look at the photo when he inevitably got up to go the bathroom sometime soon, but he wouldn’t take his own until afternoon if ever, so Ivan finally went to bed. He only had a few hours before his shift started.

-_-_-_-_-

Fredya had sent an emoji Ivan didn’t understand the meaning as response to the photo, followed by hearts and something that seemed to be an abbreviation, Ivan didn’t research the meaning. It likely wasn’t important. Ivan got coffees for everyone again, and Amanda gave him a incredulous look. It was getting suspicious, Ivan acting nice. He should dial down on the social interactions for the next few days. It would be good practice for when Fredya left him, anyway. “Oh, thank you for going through the trouble”, Toris commented smiling. Ivan studied the smile, trying to map out proportions and gauge timings, but again he failed to replicate the gesture. It kept coming out as sarcastic. He would prefer if both would just shut up and their coffees without scrutinizing his intentions. Let a man act civil to fellow humans beings in peace. “If everyone is done sitting around, we need someone to go interview Fowler’s parishioners.” Predictably, Amanda volunteered for the task. That left Ivan and Toris at the office, reading through statements, comparing alibis and viewing security footage, the same draining and pointless sinkhole of never-ending choppy black-and-white footage that glared a print of the screen in your soul, so that in the end when you lost everything else to dementia and cataracts, you would still see that stinging bright rectangle staring you in the eye, smirking gleefully, taking pleasure in removing everything one used to take joy in, and replacing itself in place of loved ones. That metaphor ran a little wild at the end, there. In all fairness, it could be intriguing work when results could reasonably be expected, but everyone and their mother knew the only thing learned from these particular ones would be just how much time were wasting on them. Even Toris, being his professional self, couldn’t resist glancing at the clock every few minutes. He would of course try to make it inconspicuous, just letting his eyes dart to his wrist and back again, but it was noticeable enough when one was more concentrated on the coworker than the work. It came to Ivan’s mind that perhaps this was another aspect of Toris he should try to simulate, rather than keep studying, his work ethic was excellent. Surely that was something most people would approve of. And Fredya did often complain Ivan was rather lackadaisical about his work, he would appreciate the effort. “How do stay so focused?” he asked sincerely. It was admirable, really, how Toris could throw himself at something so tedious. Toris blinked at him in confusion, probably surprised to see his colleague who was supposed to working beside him blatantly ignoring said work. “I’ve practiced it for years, there’s really no easy trick for it.” “Ah. Shame.” “I find that meditating regularly helps. And a good diet.” Well, that was already two things Ivan would not be trying out. “I could send you some articles  if you’d like.” “You should spend your free time on yourself. You work too much.” Ivan went idly back to his files, not really feeling like working, but deciding to at least give it a shot, but feeling Toris’ curious eyes still fixed on him was too much of a distraction. After several seconds of silence he couldn’t take it anymore. “Yes?” “Thank you. That was considerate of you.” Ivan didn’t know how to answer that. It had been such a banal thing to say. Not warranting any response, really. Just a stock phrase, however true of some people and situations - such as this particular specimen. Toris must have heard the exact same statement hundreds of times in his life, knowing that he had an actual social circle who cared for him. Ivan was outside that circle, and people rarely care for the things outsiders say in matters like these - surely Toris should feel nothing particular about anything Ivan said. There was no need for him to smile like that, it was just embarrassing for a grown man to get so giddy about faint praise. Ivan scoffed and went back to his work.

-_-_-_-_-

U maek a habot of drawning on walls huh Outside of his brief childhood, Ivan had only ever drawn on walls three times - once in a drunk, misguided bout of creative frenzy, once to write his number on an intriguing man’s wall to annoy him, and once in an attempt to save a relic of happier times for the future. Mostly when you are involved, it seems. Perhaps you are my muse for wall-related artistry It had been a while since Ivan had drawn a portrait, but now might be the time to dust off that skill set. Ivan considered himself more of a photographer, but there was also something appealing about creating from scratch. Although... he would need to keep the portrait hidden, it would raise questions and pity later on. Ivan wished he was better at abstraction, that way it wouldn’t look like Fredya to anyone else, but his mind seemed to be too observational for it. It could only make sense of things that connected together in realistic ways, it couldn’t create anything out of feelings alone. Perhaps he simply didn’t have enough of them for that kind of art. The dinner with Fredya and his sisters was a few hours away, but Ivan was already nervously ironing his clothes. He once again pleaded Katyusha to control her romantic impulses, and of course she promised, but Ivan knew that meant little. She had very bad self-control. Tasha’s picking me up, we’ll meet you there Natasha was coming? Nataliya was coming?! Fuck - what was she - this was bad news - why hadn’t she said - oh god, forget about Katyusha ruining everything if Nataliya Grigorova was coming! She never mentioned wanting to come along That sneaky little girl, she told me you said it was okay, haha He would not survive this night sober. He wanted to make a good impression. He did not want to be drunk when the only three people who mattered to him were all in the same room. He wanted to be fully conscious, to enjoy an outing with his family while being fully genuine, not just sedated into calmness. But lord knew he would not survive the night sober.

-_-_-_-_-

Remembering the fit Fredya had thrown the last time Ivan had driven not-strictly-drunk-but-also-not-sober, he was glad that they had arranged beforehand for Fredya to pick him up. Because he was observant in the most inconvenient ways, Ivan had been sure Fredya would notice something was off, maybe a smell or the slow movements to counteract the unsteady hand-to-eye-coordination, but fortunately he was too stoked about meeting Ivan’s sisters again, officially, to notice Ivan’s oddly calm demeanor. He babbled excitedly the whole way there, and was halfway across the street before Ivan had even fully exited the car. “Come on you snail! They’re gonna think we ditched them!” “It’s only a few minutes away, you can afford to slow down”, Ivan chuckled. Fredya was so adorably excited, he resembled a puppy on a walk. “Being overeager is as bad as being late.” “Beg to disagree! Pick up the pace slowpoke!” Fredya sped up ahead, Ivan kept his leisurely pace. He missed the re-introductions, but it seemed like he hadn’t been needed for those at all - Fredya and Katyushka already looked like old friends, while Tasha regarded him with a haughty look, but nary a nasty word. She raised an eyebrow at Ivan, as if saying really, you chose this clown over me?, and he simply smiled pleasantly at her. As they waited for their food to arrive, Fredya and Katyushka were unsurprisingly the only ones to hold up conversation. They had found a common ground in Star Trek - in that Katyusha had heard a lot about it, but had never watched an episode and was interested, and Fredya was an expert in all the series and films and liked talking about them. They went through the pacifistic ideas on the original series and how it sometimes contradicted itself on it, analyzing the casting choices for the remakes, some more things that Ivan had no interest in.  When their plates were brought, the were in the midst of trying to speak klingon - the attempts of both of them were saddeningly hilarious. Or perhaps they were both surprisingly accurate. Ivan had no way of knowing, the franchise being something he had never taken an interest in. Of course he liked space, but he was more fact-oriented than a fan of fanciful fiction. “You seem so young, it’s almost like you’re still in college”, Katyusha giggled, and Ivan could not agree more. The youthful energy Fredya exuded was refreshing, at least most of the time. “Never went to college, I went straight to work from high school”, Fredya explained, crumbs flying. That was the one habit that Ivan never found charming in Fredya, it was just plain disgusting. Tasha made a small chortle of contempt that passed Fredya by. “Our brother is a very intelligent man”, Tasha commented sharply, and Ivan knew exactly what she was going for – he had come to the same conclusion, himself. And truthfully, neither of them had been wrong - Fredya really was stupid. “Oh, tell me about it”, the insulted man chuckled, not understanding what was being implied. Ivan would have liked being able to defend Fredya, but the thing was that Fredya was not intelligent – intellectually or socially, and attempting to claim otherwise would have been pointless. He might have been considered smart in some useless areas, such as entertainment trivia, but faint praise is just as damning as admitting faults. Trivia! There was the opening Fredya needed to impress Tasha! “He has a master’s degree in movie trivia and celebrity gossip, if nothing else. Just give an actor’s name and he will tell you every movie they have ever been in.” “And not just that! I can also tell which year each movie came out!” Fredya exclaimed proudly. Ivan started with an easy one - Tom Cruise. Tasha did look reluctantly impressed as the titles and dates kept on coming, but refused to admit defeat. She tried her favorite actor, someone much more obscure. “Ken Foree?” “Hmm… The midnight man, 2017… Rift, dark side of the moon 2016, Cut slash pri- no wait, I think he was in Divine tragedies, 2015, Cut slash print 2012 –“ However, since

Tasha’s obsession with her brother refused to give way to respect for her perceived enemy, she realized that to claim victory she could simply ask about any non-American film star. “Anastasia Zavorotnyuk.” “Anastasia who?” Of course he pronounced the name the American way, but Ivan was still mildly impressed he could tell Анастасия and Anastasia were the same name. “Zavorotnyuk.” Tasha allowed herself a malevolent smirk as Fredya racked his brain for the name in vain. “A true expert wouldn’t limit himself only to Hollywood”, Tasha hmphed in triumphant malice, believing to have proved her superiority over him once and for all, despite not showing an ability to counter his. It seemed the point had only been to prove Fredya was not omniscient. In Ivan’s eyes, it was enough to be merely well-versed. “He does hate subtitles to the point where I thought he might be illiterate”, Ivan joked. “Hey, at least I speak the language of the country I live in!” “Verily, my darling, thou speakest with the most biting of tongues. Shakespeare himself would envy your prowess.” “The guy lived like hundreds of years ago, who gives a shit? Ivan Drago was famous in the 80’s.” “Ivan can sound almost native when he tries”, Katyusha said, trying to diffuse the argument, not knowing the workings of their relationship well enough to tell it was all said in jest. “I haven’t tried in years, I doubt I could anymore”, Ivan thought. He had tried training his accent away in high school, so he would sound less foreign in job interviews. Having a foreign name was bad enough in an application. He had never achieved a smooth, natural accent, he had to concentrate very hard which caused the words to come out very slowly and robotically, and still there was always a hint of foreign phonemes. Combined with his attempts to deepen his voice – an incredibly embarrassing failure on its own – had made him cringe, even back then. Tasha had encouraged him, of course, because in her mind anything and everything her dear brother did was the right decision. Excluding taking romantic interest in someone other than her, of course.

The rest of the evening went by in much the same fashion. Fredya and Katyusha got along swimmingly, Tasha made snide remarks about Fredya, Ivan defended him in mean ways, Fredya played along. It was all very pleasant. Finally the staff started dropping hints that it was time to vacate the table, so they got up and parted ways. Katyusya was enchanted enough to not wait long enough to be out of earshot before starting to gush about her baby brother’s relationship, which made for a perfect opening for eavesdropping. “Don’t you think Vanechka looks so much happier than usual?” Katyusya said, nearly clapping her hands in excitement. “Idiocy might be contagious”, Tashenka grumbled in response. “I never imagined he’d go for that type, but I guess it goes to show opposites really do attract!” Katyushka squeed. “It’s only for the moment. That American moron will start getting on Vanya’s nerves soon”, Tashenka claimed, not sounding too confident herself. Ivan had expected that to happen as well, in the beginning. “I hope he won’t, I think Alfred is good for Vanechka. He’s come out of his shell.” What did she mean by that? As far as Ivan was aware, he had never been shy around his sisters. Or other people, for that matter. “What’re you frowning about?” Fredya asked. “I’m eavesdropping. Katyusha likes you, and Natasha doesn’t despise you.” “Well that’s good news isn’t it?” Fredya smiled, and tried to hear the women. “Man, you got great hearing. I can’t hear them at all.” Yes, it did take some practice to achieve Ivan’s level of spying on other people’s conversations. And by then they had gotten far enough that Ivan couldn’t hear then anymore either, actually. “Your eardrums must be damaged from the all screeching you do.” “You’re walking home, asshole.”

-

Tasha + Katyushka = affectionate nicknames for Nataliya and Yekaterina. Tashenka + Katyusya = one level more intimate. Ivan is being drunk and sentimental so at the end of the evening, the way he feels about his sisters is something like most people do when seeing tiny kittens. Thanks again for reading! Maybe in like 10 years so I'll add a final "chapter" describing the rest of the plot, but I know myself and won't make any promises. I have some more snippets on the masterpost if anyone wants to frustrate themselves with a story that will never be finished.

[kenbunshokus]

this is a (super late) update to this fic rec post! i was planning to just keep editing and updating that post, but it’s been so old it no longer appears on tumblr search system and all, so here we are. be ready for some old school zosans in the mix

all complete

absolute favorites will be noted with a ♡

list will be updated as i find more

story count: 30 fics

last update: jan 5th 2020

CANON-VERSE

Goings On by clarify  ♡

Zoro and Sanji understand each other, and sometimes have a very similar sense of humor. Even though they're worlds ahead of most, sometimes they can't help but to act their age.

easily one of my favorites. zoro and sanji are completely in character, being themselves and comfortable in each other’s spaces. for anyone who thinks zoro and sanji can’t get along in canon, this fic can easily prove them wrong.

Part Timer by 8ball ♡♡

Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together.

Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.

a wonderful, heart-wrenching, roller coaster ride of a post-series fic. this fic is not just a mere fic — it’s a zosan magnum opus with guest appearances by so many other characters, lots of crew hijinks and a must-read for everyone who craves for a happy ending for these good boys.

Say It Again by 8ball

Zoro tells Sanji how he feels. And then again. And again. 

since we’re talking about 8ball i just want you to know i’d rec everything they’ve ever written, but special mention to say it again — a classic miscommunication trope fic done well where the miscommunication stems from fundamental misunderstanding of each other’s principles and views instead of just some plot-convenient coincidences. and soft zoro. god, he is soft.

The Wedding Night by cuethe-pulse (lj)

Zoro had never expected any of this.

major character death warning. don’t let the first few scenes fool you. note the warning; the last few lines were like a punch in the gut for me, except, you know, the good kind of punch. also, a quick rec of a drabble by the same author to soothe the pain after this one.

Roronoa Zoro: World’s Greatest Bug Killer by insaneidiot ♡

Sometimes, Zoro's life really sucks. He should've known better than to make fun of Sanji's bug phobia, though...

zoro’s internal monologue is hilarious  — until today, this author is still my go-to expert on zoro’s voice, especially his more sarcastic side.

Quitting’s Easy by insaneidiot

Sanji decides to quit smoking. This is not quite so easy as he thinks it will be. Also, his crewmates (excluding Robin and Nami, of course!) are assholes.

fun, fun strawhat hijinks and oblivious sanji. the crew dynamics and especially sanji’s voice are pitch perfect. there’s a hint of luffy/nami that you can easily scroll past if it’s not your thing.

I can’t stop thinking that i can’t stop thinking by hieiandshino ♡

In which Brook changes tactics and Zoro is not amused. Everyone else is, though.

holy shit is this fic hilarious. i love comedy fics that manage to slip in thoughtful observations and character study in between the hijinks, and this fic pulls that off with flying colors. 

The Walls See All by threesipsmore

Reiju hides a snail cam in her brother's room.

fun short fic from reiju’s pov. there’s never enough zosan set in whole cake island arc and this fic delivers.

Stormbird by Judin ♡

The Straw Hats' first landing in the New World is on Arashi Island, where it looks like they'll be spending a fun week attending the local festival and making new friends. Until they spot a strange pirate ship in the harbour, and Sanji starts behaving oddly. The Straw Hats become entangled with the mysterious Gently Pirates, a crew that harbour many secrets, and whose captain is a man out of Sanji's past who has the power to tear the Straw Hat crew apart. 

it cannot be overstated how wonderful this fic is, and how it could’ve fit into the canon just nicely, like a better-written one piece movie, except with zosan. not only are sanji and zoro in character, every strawhat gets a spotlight and has pitch-perfect voices. brook is especially lovely in this fic.

Unintended Consequence by itsmylifekay

A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

there’s a reason this is the most kudo-ed zosan fic on ao3 right now — it’s so soft without being ooc, and there’s a quiet undercurrent of affection laid throughout the fic that will warm you up from the insides.

Somewhere Between Sorrow and Bliss by srididdledeedee

Sanji has never cared for winter.

He can see himself, is the thing. There are bits and pieces that poke through, but it’s not all him. It’s like staring in a fractured mirror. He knows, intellectually, that the person staring back at him is himself, but his face is splintered and his shape is distorted and his body is wrong.

a fantastic character study on trans!sanji and how he comes to terms with his identity with the help of his crewmates. supportive strawhats are always a lovely addition to a zosan fic

Give In To Love by libbylune

Zoro knows better than to think about it too much, but between the rowdy festivals and ancient unexplained temples on this island, it's hard to forget about wanting Sanji.

i love how this fic puts as much focus on the boys after the confession as it does before the confession. a good case fic with its own unique island adventure and i’m always a sucker for soft!zoro

Laundry by libbylune

Dealing with Sanji makes Zoro develop a lot of opinions about clothes.

there’s absolutely nothing hotter than bi!sanji who’s completely comfortable with his gender identity and sexuality. also gay disaster zoro fumbling his words whenever sanji is around is 1) accurate 2) hilarious.

Language of Swords by HaveMyWeedCookies ♡

It took them for a while but finally, Zoro asked if Sanji wanted to hold his sword.

i love fics that explore zoro’s relationship with his craft and his swords, and adding zosan into the mix is something i didn’t know i needed. an interesting outsiders pov zosan in the pov of zoro’s swords.

Ghost of a Chance by sabershadowkat

“I know, for sure, that I didn’t expect to miss everyone so much, including you.” Sanji cut a glance at Zoro and rephrased correctly, “Especially you.”

this fic handles tropes that are usually associated with character death fics, but manages to end it with a happy ending. zoro’s devotion here is heart-wrenching.

Idiot Romance by sabershadowkat

"This has to be a joke," Sanji muttered, poking at the colored petals. Zoro couldn't have just given him flowers.

a classic  — this is literally the first zosan fic i’ve ever read — and a lovely one at that. sanji is oblivious and zoro attempts romance, not that zoro ever needed to.

festival night by thisislegit

“ANOTHER FEAT BY THE WORLD’S STRONGEST MAN, JORIRI.” The woman turned to Mr. Mohawk and with faux sympathy said, “Oh! Sorry, sir. Maybe next time. We can’t always beat the best, but we can do our best and that’s what matters. Do we have any other takers? ANY OTHER TAKERS READY FOR THE STRONG MAN CHALLENGE? HOW ABOUT YOU SIR? MADAM? YOU OVER THERE? ARE YOU INTERESTED?”

“What kind of shit name is Joriri,” said Zoro and Sanji in unison.

i’m an absolute sucker for fics that have zoro and sanji simply hanging out and enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in a way they couldn’t with their other crewmates, and this fic exemplifies that. just them being little shits and having fun with one another.

No Victory in Hesitation & the Past Has Its Lessons by EudaimonErisornae & vageege

Zoro has a lot of things he wants to say to Sanji, but he just needs one more day. || Zoro tries to fix a mistake he made in the past.

major character death warning. i died a little bit inside after reading this tbh. there are some devil fruits-explained time travel hijinks, but mostly it’s this looming, grim inevitability of death that’s written so pervasively throughout the fic that really got me.

Imperatives by dollcewrites

Zoro is confident in saying that Sanji is a man who doesn’t do what he’s told. Which is why, when a command accidentally slips from Zoro’s lips during foreplay, he is expecting to hear the cook’s scoff as he continues to do what he pleases.

i don’t tend to do pwp, but this isn’t just one — it’s a completely in-character piece about their relationship and dynamics.

when you say by bluewalk ♡

It's a long time in coming. Usopp can promise, but.

this fic is as much sanuso as it is zosan, and usopp here is — still very much usopp, but also a very beautiful take on his character as someone who spent a lot of time behind sanji’s back, and realizes that when he watches sanji’s back, he gets to see zoro’s, too.

a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny

Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew.

while the main ship is still zosan, the fic also focuses a lot on zoro and sanji’s relationship with the rest of the crew, and it’s one of those fics that really makes you realize how much of a family the strawhats is. a lovely read all around.

destructivity is a poison that run through our veins by wasteofmind

Zoro thinks that, someday, they are going to kill each other.

a dysfunctional take of their relationship. it’s fascinating in the same way a car crash is fascinating  — there’s an undercurrent of something violent, something visceral. this is one of the fics that inspired me to write migratory animals.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Ocean’s Child by 8ball  ♡

Here's the truth: Zoro couldn't swim. He fell in the water and sank like a stone because there had never been anyone to teach him how to move his arms. He forgot that if he screamed for help the water would get in his mouth, and he even opening his eyes hurt.

Here’s the other truth, the one that stays a secret: a mermaid saved him.

a fascinating retelling of the one piece canon with mermaid!sanji. it feels a lot like a love letter to the seas, and it’s mesmerizing how sanji’s mermaid backstory is seamlessly weaved into the one piece canon.

with you by Cirro

How to find your life partner in three easy steps: 1. Punch them in the face 2. Insult their cognitive abilities 3. Embarrass them so much they agree to marry you

a wholesome two-part modern au series. my personal favorite is the second part, where sanji brings zoro home to meet zeff — complete with the two of them teasing sanji in their own ways.

The Proper Reaction (or What To Do When Your Son Brings His Boyfriend Home by three_days_late

Holidays at the Baratie were always hectic, but it's nothing Zeff can't handle. Sanji's new boyfriend, on the other hand...

on the topic of meet-the-family: the only thing more fun than zoro meeting zeff is zoro meeting zeff and the entirety of baratie staff. also includes one of my favorite line about bi!sanji: “sanji loves nice girls and bad boys”.

Exclusive by cuethe-pulse

Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?

this is a circus/bakery au. yes, you read that right, and yes, it works. i went into this fic with a lot of doubts and came out very satisfied with how fleshed out everyone in this au is, and i’m forever in awe with how the author can set up an entirely separate, vivid universe with so few words.

Delivery by styx_in_the_mud

Sanji is stuck delivering pizzas when Patty is out of commission for a while. Zoro likes to order pizza after training. Both of them are sort of idiots, but Zoro can be smooth as fuck if he puts his mind to it.

a fun, in-character au with good ol’ banter and cute get-together.

The End of It All by xpiester333xx

Humans have been forced underground due to the effects of a chemical weapon that has made surface life impossible. Sanji lives in one of these underground colonies and though he dreams of bigger things his life has been mundane; spent following strict rules and obeying higher commands. Or it was, until a stranger shows up and changes everything.

the author labelled it as sci-fi au, but I personally think it’s more dystopian-like? either way, while this fic is on the long side, it manages to keep everyone in character until the very end, which is something that can’t be said for a lot of fics.

well, there we go! feel free to drop me an ask if you want to rec me fics or ask for a more specific/themed rec list; i’ll also update this post regularly !!

i also have an ao3 donutsandcoffee if you want to see my take on these dorks o/

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.16

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: Rose and Charlie go with Willy to see his father. Afterwards, Willy makes another offer to Charlie.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​ @sleepiesapphicxoxo​

The elevator landed in the middle of nowhere. The only thing that was there was a lonesome building. Willy, Rose, and Charlie stepped out of the elevator, and met with the bitter coldness of the snow.

Rose looked over at Willy. He looked uncomfortable, nervous and scared. She grabbed his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Everything will be alright, Willy" She promised him. "Charlie and I are right by your side"

"Thank you, starshine" Willy said, giving her a small smile. Rose didn't want to, but she let go of his hand, to wrap her arms around her body. It was colder here than it was at home, and all Rose had to wear was a thin and torn wedding dress. Her poor legs got the worst of it though. Willy looked at her and noticed how much she was shivering. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes" Rose managed through chattering teeth. "Although, maybe I should have kept the torn part of the dress as a shawl or something"

"But then what would keep your poor little legs warm?" Willy asked. He took off his black fur coat, and draped it over Rose. She hummed in content when she felt the warmth from it enveloping her body. "Better?"

"But won't you be cold now?"

"Don't worry about me. I just want you to be warm" By this point, they had reached the lonesome house. The three of them walked up the stairs. "I think we've got the wrong house" Willy said before looking at the plaque next to the door. Dr Wilbur Wonka, D.D.S Dental Practitioner. Willy made a face and turned his head away. Rose reached for Willy's hand again.

Charlie rang the doorbell. When the door opened, it revealed an older gentleman, with white hair and beard, wearing a matching white dental coat and glasses. This was Dr Wilbur Wonka. He stared down at the three strangers at his doorstep. "You have an appointment?"

"No, but he's overdue" Charlie answered.

******

Willy sat in the dentist chair. Dr Wonka then lowered the chair, so that he could examine Willy's mouth. "Open" Dr Wonka instructed. Willy, slowly and unsurely, opened his mouth. "Now, let's see what the damage is, shall we?" Dr Wonka started his examination.

"Rosie, look on the wall" Charlie whispered to his sister. Her gaze followed the direction of Charlie's pointing finger.

"Oh my..." She muttered.

Her and Charlie walked on over the wall. Dr Wonka had framed newspaper articles all about Willy and his chocolate factory. There was also a framed photo on the stand, who Rose presumed was of a young Willy. There was also a scrapbook with more newspaper articles and clippings, and even some candy wrappers.

Rose smiled to herself. All these years, Willy's father was truly proud of him.

"Heavens," Dr Wonka gasped. "I haven't seen bicuspids like these since...since..." He slowly pulled the tools out of Willy's mouth. Dr Wonka's eyes were wide in surprise when he realized just who this patient was. "Willy?"

"Hi, dad" Willy whispered to him.

Dr Wonka put his tools down, and Willy sat up straight. "All these years..." Dr Wonka started, as a soft smile broke on his face. "And you haven't flossed"

Willy shook his head. "Not once"

The reunited father and son shared an awkward moment of silence when they just stared at each other, and nervously fumbled both of their hands. They decided on hugging each other, even if it was hesitant at first.

Charlie and Rose were observing the two of them with smiles on their faces. The two Wonkas ended their hug. Dr Wonka averted his gaze to the two Buckets. Though, his attention was mostly on Rose, especially when he noticed the sort of attire she had on. "Miss, may I ask why you're wearing a torn wedding dress?" Dr Wonka asked.

"Oh" Rose looked down at the dress. "It's, er, a long story"

"This is Rose Bucket" Willy introduced her. Rose smiled at Dr Wonka, curtsying as she did so. "And this special little boy is her brother, Charlie" Charlie politely smiled. "Charlie found one of my Golden Tickets"

"I was allowed to bring one chaperone with me" Charlie added. He looked up at his sister. "So I decided to bring Rose"

"I see" Dr Wonka said, a faint smile still playing on his lips. He noticed the way that Willy was looking at Rose. It was at that moment that he realized that this girl meant a lot to his son.

******

The three of them walked back to the elevator, all of them relieved that the reunion between Willy and his father went well. Dr Wonka even invited them all to come and see him again. "I think that went better than we were all expecting" Rose said happily.

"How are you feeling now, Mr Wonka?" Charlie asked.

A big grin came across Willy's face. "Much better now, thanks to you two!" He confessed. "I mean, it'll take some time before I have a real relationship with my father"

"Of course, Willy" Rose nodded. "And Charlie and I will always be there for support. Won't we, Charlie?"

"That's right" Charlie agreed with a nod.

The smile from Willy's face faltered, but he didn't look upset. He was deep in thought. "Is there somewhere we can go?" He asked. "I need to discuss something with both of you"

Rose immediately knew the perfect place. "I know where we can go"

******

The elevator landed right outside Mrs Mason's Magical Pies. They all stepped out of the elevator. An amused smile danced on Willy's lips when he read the name. "What makes the pies so magical?" He wondered out loud.

"I'm not entirely sure" Rose answered as they entered the shop. She was happy to see that it was quite lively. Charlie immediately went to an empty table in the corner. "That's a secret only Mrs Mason knows. Though, everyone who's ever worked for her always joked that she uses fairy dust" Rose giggled at the idea of such a thing. "But I honestly believe, that what makes them so magical, is the fact that she puts her love into the pies"

"It's just like my candy and chocolate!" Willy chirped. "The happier you are when you make it, the better the candy and chocolate will taste"

Rose's smile turned into a frown when she remembered that Willy's products weren't selling as well as they should be. "Is that why your chocolate hasn't been the best lately?"

Willy shared Rose's frown. "That is, unfortunately true, my starshine" His frown changed into a slight smile. "But I have a feeling it's going to start tasting the way it should be again after today"

They joined Charlie over at the table he chose. Willy sat across from Charlie, but Rose remained standing. "How about some pie?" Rose suggested.

"Sure!" Charlie nodded with a smile.

"Willy? How about you?"

"I would love some, thank you" He said.

"Alright. I'll go get us a daily special. I believe today is apple" Rose said. She smiled at the two of them, before turning and heading for the kitchen. "Hello, Mrs Mason!"

Mrs Mason turned to face her. "Oh, Rose! I wasn't expecting you back so soon! I must say, you seem an awful lot happier than you were yes—" The woman stopped when she looked down and noticed the white, torn dress. "Oh, please tell me you didn't marry that boy! And what happened to your dress!? Did he do this to you?"

"No, no, Mrs Mason. I didn't go through with the wedding" Rose assured her.

Mrs Mason sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. You had me worried" Her eyebrows then furrowed in confusion. "Then, how does that explain the torn dress?"

"I did this" Rose confessed proudly. "I also threw the bouquet at Harry's face and I dropped the cake on him"

Mrs Mason snorted in laughter. "Oh, I wish I could have seen that! I'm so proud of you!" She hugged Rose tightly. "How about some pie to celebrate? On the house, of coarse!"

"Three slices of apple, please!"

"Three?" Mrs Mason repeated. "Someone must be hungry"

"Oh no, they're not all for me. One's for Charlie and the third is for..." Rose paused.

"The third is for who?"

Rose couldn't stop the wild grin on her face. "Why don't you bring out the pies and come see! I really want you to meet him!"

A playful smirk appeared on Mrs Mason's lips. "And who is this 'him' then, hmm?" The older woman had a hunch of who it might be.

"Come, come!" Rose urged excitedly. She grabbed two slices of apple pie, the ones for her and Charlie, and Mrs Mason grabbed the third slice, the one meant for Willy.

"Charlie! Hello, my dear boy!" Mrs Mason greeted when she saw the boy.

Charlie smiled brightly at her. "Hello, Mrs Mason!"

Rose set Charlie's pie down in front of him. "Mrs Mason, I'd like you to meet Willy Wonka"

Willy smiled kindly at the woman. "Hello" He greeted her with a wave.

Mrs Mason returned the smile as she set the pie in front of Willy. "Hello, dear! Rose has told me all about you"

"She has?" Willy glanced over at Rose, still smiling.

"Oh, yes! She's quite smitten with you" Mrs Mason gushed. Rose blushed in embarrassment and looked down at her feet. "And I can see why! You're quite a handsome man!

"Oh, thank you"

"Mrs Mason, don't you have pies to make?" Rose said.

"Oh, I see. You three want to be alone!" Mrs Mason said. "I'll be making my way back to the kitchen then. And if you want more pie, just come fetch me! Like I said, it's on the house" Mrs Mason hugged Rose, and then kissed Charlie on the head. "And Mr Wonka, it's a pleasure to meet you"

"Call me Willy!" He smiled at the woman. He already liked Mrs Mason.

"Oh! In that case, Willy, you can call me Patricia" And with that, Mrs Mason retreated back into the kitchen.

"I love that woman, really" Rose said, sitting in the empty seat next to Willy. "But she can be embarrassing sometimes"

"She treats you both like your family" Willy noted. "But she's not your actual family"

"Mrs Mason treats all her customers like that" Rose explained. "Well, the ones that aren't rude anyways"

"And you don't have to be related to someone for them to be your family" Charlie added. He and Rose shared a knowing smile. "People who care about each other can be considered a family, whether you're related or not"

Willy's heart warmed at the way the two Buckets described family. He wanted something like that. "All this talk of family has got me thinking" Willy started. "I still want you both to come live in the factory, but I want your family to come as well" Charlie and Rose went wide eyed and shared looks. Willy was getting worried when they weren't answering him. "B-but only if you want to"

"Charlie," Rose spoke first. "This is your decision to make"

It didn't even take Charlie a moment to decide. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. "Yes, Mr Wonka" He answered with a smile.

A happy grin came across Willy's face. "Oh! This is wonderful!" He cheered. He didn't know what he was happier about. The fact that Charlie accepted, or the fact that he would be able to see Rose every day. "I'll make arrangements with the Oompa-Loompas to get you moved in and settled right away. By the way, they miss the both of you" Willy turned to Rose. "Especially you, starshine!"

Rose was glad to hear the Oompa-Loompas missed her. She honestly loved them. "Well, I can't wait to see them again" She exclaimed happily.

"Now, let's celebrate the momentous occasion with some of this delectable looking pie!" Willy broke off a piece of the apple pie with his fork and brought it up to his mouth. He ate it and his eyes immediately lit up. "Wow! These pies really are magical!"

Rose giggled at him and she began to eat her piece of pie, as did Charlie. One thing was for sure. Her life was never going to be dull again, so long as Willy Wonka was apart of it.

[kingsten]

CELINE: So often in my life I’ve been with people and shared beautiful moments like traveling or staying up all night and watching the sunrise, and I knew it was a special moment, but something was always wrong. (...) But I’m happy to be with you. You couldn’t possibly know why a night like this is so important to my life right now, but it is. I think this is a great morning. 

JESSE: It is a great morning. Do you think we’d have other mornings like this?

@cir ——— 14.) The timeline in which they took a chance they didn’t in canon.

Brian traces the silver band on Peter’s ring finger. 

It’s an unpretentious piece of vintage work with an engraving of a mostly worn away rose. Peter shifts, pouting even in his sleep from the sunlight hitting his face. Brian watches quietly, curious of what Peter’s reaction will be when he wakes up. Brian can hardly remember most of what transpired the night prior but it’s coming back to him in hazy fragments but mainly the crumpled 77$ receipt from a wedding venue with their vows messily scrawled out on the back is the main indicator that last night was not a dream. 

Peter, after sleeping in for a few more minutes stirs again. He groans, rubs his eyes with his hands then freezes in that position. Brian holds his breath as Peter pulls his hand away to inspect the cold metal while still half asleep, half hangover. It takes a minute for the significance to register then his eyes cut suddenly to Brian who holds up his own hand to show off the near identical ring on his own hand. 

——— 

“We met at a party” Peter states but Brian shakes his head. “or it was the cafe?”

“I think it was in that one class— remember?” At least that’s when he thinks is the first time he saw Peter. “Business fourteen something. I showed up for three classes but couldn’t understand french so I dipped.” Jae’s eyes roll so hard the wired frames slip down to the bridge of his nose and he slides them back up. “I don’t care about how you met I just want to know why you got married? Who the fuck gets married after knowing each other half a year?”   

“Actually, we’ve known each other five months and a half. I know because we met after Peter’s birthday and— ” Jae and Peter both give Brian a hard look and his voice falls but he finishes his thought. “and It’s...uh, now... december.” then sits back in his chair. Jae holds the look longer than Peter before he turns back to his cousin and shakes his head. “RIP to your taxes.... have you even told your mom yet?” It’s a valid question and Brian’s ears perk up though he doesn’t expect that he has given Brian hasn’t mentioned it to his own parents either.

It’s a bridge they’ll cross once they get to it.

Now, regardless of the time and date of their technical first meeting. Brian likes to think that their official meeting was in the metro, while waiting for the last train to come. He remembers this clearly because it was the first time he’d seen Peter outside of the cafe or rather, to be more specific, without a laptop in front of his nose. Sure, even in this case it was tucked safely beneath his arm to be opened on the chance that there’s a free seat available. 

“What are you always working on?” Brian asks, sitting down without invitation in the seat across from Peter. The fact Peter is distracted enough by the question to leave his laptop closed is a small victory in Brian’s book.

“Excuse me?” 

Brian is used to Peter’s blunt speech. In the cafe he quietly says his order then goes back to being silent unless he’s on a business call. The lonewolf silent type is kinda Peter’s thing even when in the midst of a group of coworkers. But there’s something about him that catches Brian’s attention and he’s been working slowly to chip away at that outer exterior by bringing him extra sweets on the side in an effort to get to that other side of Peter that Brian’s yet to see but knows is there. And tonight he’s got a few minutes to kill. They’re not exactly strangers— at least not by Brian’s definition. They both have a few stops before they part ways. What better time than now? “Are you a business man? My dad is always working on finance stuff on his laptop too.” Peter remains silent. Brian takes it as his sign to continue. “He owns a shop. A cafe bookshop in Jersey.” 

“So you are American.” Peter speaks up and it catches Brian by surprise. “I thought you might be Canadian.” 

The fact Peter thought about him makes Brian grin a little before he nods.

That’s the subject that breaks the ice and gets them to talk, so much so that Brian misses his stop but pretends that he’s getting off at the same station as Peter where they both get off then talk even more. Brian’s able to draw out interesting thoughts and commentary from Peter and vice versa. Things like what Peter does on his laptop to discussing their biggest fears, observations of their surroundings and their shared experiences of being only children are brought up. They even touch on the topic of love and how it impacted Brian’s recent breakup and Peter’s long past break up. 

It’s in the middle of that that his phone vibrates, cutting them both off mid-sentence.

“Oh, I’ve kept you for too long.” Peter says apologetically as he glances around their surroundings, uncertain of what time it is but Brian shakes his head. “Honestly, I could’ve stayed on that subway until...forever. I like talking to you.” He says before taking another glance at his phone. “It’s just. There’s this thing I promised a friend that I’d— “

“It’s ok.” Peter interrupts. “It’s late and we should both head home.” 

Brian nods. “Yeah. I’m sorry for interrupting your evening. I know you said that you had work to do and God, It’s so late— I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet.” 

“No, no, no it’s alright. I don’t eat after 7.” 

“Is that like a french culture thing?” Brian asks, curious. He doesn’t get it but he can begrudgingly respect it. It tells him Peter’s very disciplined or likes schedules which he could’ve guessed. Peter laughs, and it still strikes Brian how much his whole face changes with it even as he shakes his head. “Doesn’t everyone do that?” Peter replies, eyes still warm. Brian almost forgets to answer the question. After a beat he finds his words. “Oh,uh, I sometimes wake up at like 2 AM to make ramyeon. Don’t tell my roommates but it’s the only time i don’t have to share with them.” 

“You should get going then. Is it your roommates wanting to know where you are?” Peter comments, nodding to Brian’s hand when the phone goes off repeatedly. “It’s the group chat. Nothing important.”

Just Jae asking where the fuck is Brian. Kate wondering why the hell hasn’t Brian shown up yet. Angelina wondering when more drinks are coming and the inevitable: who is going to kick these people out of the house after their social filters take a nosedive after the clock strikes midnight in, roughly an hour to thirty minutes.

Yet, Brian is still hesitant to say goodbye. Peter doesn’t move either and it’s almost as if he’s waiting for Brian to make the first move to end their time together. 

“So there’s this party over at my place tonight. I — I say that like it’s not going on right now but you should come over and we can have a few drinks, talk about uh what did you say you’re reading Fred....?”

“Friedrich Nietzsche.” 

“Wait, like, for fun?” Brian has to take a minute to let that information sink in and almost reconsiders his previous invitation because frankly he can’t think of anything more boring than Nietzshe. Peter shifts his weight, waiting for Brian to get back to the point. ”Ok, maybe we won’t talk about that but do you want to go? I’m sure by now you’ve figured out I’m not a psycho.” 

"What if I am?” Peter smirks. Brian gives him a once over, standing back like he’s truly considering the possibility then leans in close, too close. “I don’t know what if I’m into that?” Peter grows quiet again, blinking a few times and uncertain of what Brian’s about to do before the other leans away again.

“Come to the party with me.” Brian turns up the charm voice low, warm and inviting. ”It’ll be fun.” Peter knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s clear by now that he’s hinting for him to at least stay the night. He could say no, tell him that he’s not interested in parties but then he gives a small nod and the rest of the night moves in a blur. That tends to happen when Brian is involved. Time seems to blur from one minute to the next in the way that:

One minute they’re in the park, then the vague familiarity of Brian’s place — loud music, flashing lights, pushed closer by a crowd of dancing people. And a few drinks in it’s Peter who breaks the tension between them and throws caution to the wind when he kisses Brian. 

Time and everything else moves entirely too fast after that. Some days they both have to take a seat and remind themselves that it’s ok to go slow, but it’s hard when the clock is ticking down and they both know Brian graduates in December and after that? Where do they stand?

Six months after their chat on the subway they wake up in some shit hotel in Vegas. Bed hair, hung over, admiring the vintage silver on their ring fingers together that Brian picked up for cheap in a pawnshop in L.A. Peter, who always finds ways to surprise Brian is more calm than he anticipated. Brian takes advantage of the slowing in time to make Peter laugh just to see his face transform in that way that made him infatuated before they move onto the next chapter.

It is the start of many good mornings.

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 42

AO3 link here

Who wakes first? Who can tell? Perhaps it is Steve, his hearing still acute, his muscle memory still practiced from responding to the slightest sound of a child’s step in the hall. Perhaps it is Peggy with her now early-rising body, her old agent’s urgency. Perhaps it does not matter. They turn toward each other in the empty house all the same. His fingertips brush against her beneath the blanket, in the dark. She rests in the warmth of him.

“First snow,” says one as the flakes fall heavy and quiet onto the roof.

“Do you remember?” says the other.

“Of course.” And then, although there’s no way to know how the serum works on an aging brain, no guarantee that the memory-related treatments that Tony and the Stark Industries bio-med team have been studying will indeed be effective or even workable: “All of it. Always.”

When Steve comes back from his turn on patrol to find Peggy—Agent Carter sitting at the doors of the old barn they’d taken shelter in for the night, his first thought is that she’s second-guessing the watch schedule he’d set up. Which he actually wouldn’t mind - he’s still new to this commander business, and he knows that any of the rest of them have more experience and she perhaps most of all - but he wishes she’d have talked to him before the middle of the night.

Then he notices that she’s curled up tightly, legs and arms tucked in: not exactly a state of battle readiness.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, approaching with care. It’s started snowing, but not enough to muffle anything.

“Dugan was terribly noisy getting up for his patrol. Woke me completely with all that grumbling and toe-stubbing and it was too bloody cold to get back to sleep. I’d have taken his turn, but he’d already gone.”

The moon is mostly hidden by the trees, but he can make out a hint of her smile. He’d been pretty sure he’d never see it directed at himself again, she’d been so mad at him the last time they’d been around each other. During the four days since she dropped in on their assignment, she’s been perfectly polite, professional, but held back from any more than that. She’s fallen in easily with the rest of the Commandos - every five minutes they’re asking her to settle some argument or a bet, or it’s “Peggy, tell us that one about Corporal Franks and the sheepdog again,” and even Bucky smiles at her although smiling doesn’t really seem to come all that naturally to him these days - but with him she’s all firmly tilted chin and observant eyes and “Captain Rogers.”

Until now, apparently.

He settles beside her in increments, not trying to fool or distract her but to give her a chance to tell him to get lost if she wants. She just watches him. Finally, forearms rested atop tented knees, he asks, "So what made you decide to come out here instead of staying where there's at least four walls and a roof?"

"It started snowing." She looks upward before facing him, flakes decorating her eyelashes and dampening her usually pristine hair. "And I know that this sort of weather is terrible news for so many, and it won't make our job any easier, but it reminds me of home and sometimes you must grasp those little pieces of magic and hold with both hands."

I know what you mean, he thinks, but what he says aloud is, "Why does the snow remind you of home? I would have thought it would be rain."

Actually sounding fairly amused, she says, "Dealing in anti-English stereotypes, I see. Though not even the most damning ones."

"Well, I've been to London. Seen it with my own eyes." He widens them a bit for effect and somehow their gazes catch, as if they're having a staring contest, before they look away.

"Yes, well, I didn't grow up in London. We lived farther out in the country. And when I was small, my brother would wake me up the first night it snowed each year and we'd go out - terribly underdressed, mind you, slippers and dressing gowns - and just watch it float down toward us. We would catch the flakes on our tongues and stay out until our faces were raw. Mum would tell us off if we didn't get back inside before she woke up, but then she'd just make us each hot chocolate and bundle us in front of the fire."

"That sounds—" Steve clears his throat. "That sounds beautiful."

"It truly was." She shuffles her feet a bit, and then, sounding wry, though he wonders if it might be to avoid the slight shaking in her voice, says, "I don't suppose a city boy like yourself had such similar experiences?"

He snorts. "Not hardly. Snowball wars in the street when there'd been a storm, sure. But if my mother had caught me sneaking down four flights in the middle of January or catching something from outside in my mouth, I certainly wouldn't have gotten hot chocolate."

"A shame for you, then." Her eyes gleam celestial in the near dark. Without meaning to, he takes in a gulp of frigid, pine-scented air.

"Seems to me," he says, "that I just have an opportunity to make another, better memory for the future." He pauses, glances down then back up at her. "Or—Well, this one's a pretty good one too. A first first snow memory."

The quiet between them is content, broken as it is by the sounds of birds and animals on their nightly business. A gust blows over them and Peggy shivers.

"Here," Steve says, automatically moving to unbutton his coat, but she shakes her head.

"Remember what Howard said."

The sound he makes in the back of his throat is half humorous, half rueful. She'd been there to hear Howard yell, "Don't forget to try to stay warm - not too warm, though! We're not totally sure what could happen to you extreme temps. Might be that your temperature and the way your brain processes it don't match up. Should probably test it when you get back," just before Steve left HQ.

"Well," he says, clearing his throat and continuing to undo his buttons, stretching his legs out in front of himself. The coat is heavier than any he's ever had and she has one much the same, but they're not particularly well insulated. "It's still cold as hell out here. We can share it."

The words hold awkwardly in the air as she looks over at him. A voice that might be Bucky's is telling him that he's not smooth enough to use words to make it better and he should just keep quiet and hope she lets it go. His own voice is low when he speaks again. "Just to keep warm, I swear. I would never—" His fingers fidget over the last button. "I know you have reason not to trust me. I should never have assumed anything or spoken to you like that, and I'm sorry for it."

"I know you are," she says with surprising immediacy. "Watching you over the past few days it's become clear to me that I wasn't as mistaken about your character as I had thought. And that perhaps I shouldn't have shot at you."

"It was," he says, feeling foolish, "some pretty good shooting," and she climbs over his left leg and tucks herself beneath his arm, inside the warmth of the wool with him.

"What a charming compliment." Her breath clouds softly against his neck. "I'll have to tell my mother."

"Maybe talk me up a little too." He isn't entirely sure what he's saying. "If I ever make it there for a first snow, I'd like some of that hot chocolate afterward."

She gives a hushed little laugh. "I'll make certain to. Although I wonder if I've elevated my childhood memories too highly. You might end up being disappointed."

There are, he estimates, likely only about another ten minutes before Dugan comes back around to this spot on the patrol route and they should probably be inside by then. He plans to savor each moment until he hears footsteps out here with Peggy beneath the first drifting snow.

"Believe me," he says. "If it's even close to this, I don't think there's any way I could be disappointed."

Steve's sitting at the drafting table they'd set up in one corner of the living room once it became clear that he was going to be drawing as more than a hobby. The pot of heavy stew he has on a low flame lends the aroma of tomato and garlic to the air.

He's working on two sample wedding announcements, one in a cartoon style for the bride, with she and her fiance sharing a milkshake with two straws (the sort of simplified image that he recognizes wryly will become emblematic of this era while allowing people to ignore the complexities) and one with more classically elegant florals for the bride's mother. He's been distracted and has to force himself to focus, so just the two designs have taken him all afternoon. It's only once he's finished the latter that he looks up and realizes simultaneously that it's dark, Peggy still isn't home, and that it's started snowing.

He reaches over the tabletop and lifts the edge of the dotted green curtain, peering at the falling flakes illuminated by the streetlight.

"The hell?" he mutters to himself. They'd had barely a dusting all winter, it had been in the seventies for half of January, and now it's snowing in March.

Apparently the stew was a good choice for tonight. Peggy will want something hot and filling when she gets here.

He reaches toward his pocket to check the time then shakes his head at himself and looks at his wristwatch instead. 7:56. It's not unheard of for her to arrive home this late but she had seemed to think it would be a fairly light workday. Changes of plan like this always makes him wonder if something's gone wrong, not with Peggy who can generally handle herself, but with one of the many balls they're trying to keep in the air: Korea is still a concern, of course, and Hydra has been bristling from the targeted test strikes they've made so far, and of course there's Bucky. They've been getting close to finding him, each source of Peggy's confirming Steve’s memorized information seeming like it will be the last link, each day feeling like it might be the one.

Forcing himself to stand, he stretches, circles aimlessly around the apartment a few times, then gathers himself enough to remember to tidy up. The snow is still coming down, big floating flakes that are actually starting to accumulate.

Once his supplies are put away, the counter wiped down, and the table set, he allows himself to call over to the SHIELD offices. If Peggy has something to tell him, she will when she can, and if not it might be an interruption to something important. But there are, he reminds himself, more normal explanations for a late arrival and if she's just catching up on paperwork he'll be happy to know that too.

He's very aware of how lucky he is that they get at least some degree of normal.

But the switchboard operator who picks up, recognizing his voice, tells him that Peggy left nearly an hour ago. He thanks her and hangs up, frowning. It usually takes half that time to get back.

He considers starting in on his next project or picking up a book in an attempt to distract himself, but before he can even make a decision, the power goes out, leaving him blinking in the near darkness, the flame from the stove the only light.

After he searches around by feel for the matches and then by match-light for a flashlight, he turns off the burner and heads down to make sure the neighbors are alright.

Mrs. Lester on the first floor sits sewing by the light of what seems to be a lantern set up on her table, and reminds him peaceably that she grew up in a country cabin without any electricity at all so this doesn't bother her in the least. The Trimble brothers on the second floor ask a whole lot of questions that he can't answer ("When do you think the power will come back on?" and "Do you think it will snow again tomorrow?") but seem fine. Esther Stoneham in the little top floor apartment even seems glad about the lights having gone out - it'll mean that her toddlers Caroline and Eddie might actually just go to bed instead of trying to play with everything in the place.

"I've lit one candle," she tells him, with exhausted eagerness. "And I'm telling them that's all there is so they had better be done picking up the toys before it goes out.”

He meets Peggy coming up the stairs as he's on his way back down.

"You're home," he says, just as she reaches the landing, her camel-colored trench dark and dripping a bit, and asks, "Do I smell a stew?"

They go inside together, door locked behind them.

“Another first snow together,” he says, catching and holding her chilled fingers in his.

Her eyes are soft on him. It always strikes him when they have these sorts of moments, when she’s with him to share these memories that had been held by only the two of them: their memories. “Still some magic to it, though I wouldn’t have said no to a bit better timing. I didn’t even wear a scarf today.”

He lights some candles around the place while she goes into the bedroom, joining her once he's finished.

"I would have adored a good bath," she says, standing before the bureau in her slip and sorting around in the dim light for her warmest pajamas. "But I suppose we can't have everything."

"I think I can promise a bath sometime in the near future." He walks into the bathroom and picks up a towel. Once she's finished changing, he starts to rub gently at her hair, drying it carefully of the cold moisture. When he's done, her cheeks have lost their outdoor redness and she's a bit frizzy.

There was a time, not long ago and all of forever away, when he never thought he'd see her like this, relaxed and unguarded, completely beautiful in the disheveled, comfortable way. He kisses her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her mouth, her mouth again for longer. She presses up into him, hands holding him closer, a dreamy, satisfied hum building in the back of her throat, until, approximately simultaneously, his hand hits one of the bottles lined up atop her dresser, knocking things around, and her stomach reminds them it's quite late and they still haven't eaten.

Steve ladles stew, luckily still warm enough, into bowls. Peggy slices bread and spreads hers liberally with butter. She's only five years on from army food and ration cards.

"How was your day?" he asks as they sit across from each other in the quiet, candlelit kitchen.

"I had an interminable meeting with a very sweet man from the BID who somehow kept expecting me to speak Dutch, which is unfortunately not among my many talents, and then I was informed by Howard that selecting Eugenia Cavendish to head our Australia division was being perceived as an insult to the men who’d interviewed for the position.”

“Howard said that?” Steve asks, already thinking about socking the man next time they see each other.

“No, he merely informed me of how it was being perceived, which I might already have guessed. And I informed him in return that I don’t particularly care, and I suspect Genie’s prepared herself as well.” She takes another bite. “And then I had an errand to take care of after work, and got caught up in the weather. I tried to wait it out, but finally decided to take a chance and I’m glad I did or I might have been waiting all night.”

“An errand?”

“Yes, I—” She looks just slightly flustered, as if she’d hoped he wouldn’t catch on that bit, then says decisively, “Oh, let me just get them.”

From her bag, she takes a bakery box, a bit damp, a bit crushed, but mostly intact, and sets it before him, nodding at him to untie the twine and open it up. When he does with careful fingers, he finds two cinnamon buns lying inside.

“You were talking yesterday about how your mother made them once, as a treat,” she says as he takes them in. “And I know that you’ve had quite a lot on your shoulders lately. So I called around and had some put aside.”

Their local bakery closes at 3 and usually sells out of the more popular treats long before then. There wouldn’t even be anyone to open the door without some convincing. Steve looks down at the pair of pastries, sweetly puffed up and perfectly iced, for long moments. How simple it is, to be thought of, an offhand comment remembered, to have someone go out of their way for him. To have Peggy, in the midst of all that she does, go out of her way for him.

“Thank you,” he says, meeting her eyes, the box still cradled in his hands.

“Here,” she says, standing with her bowl. “Come, my darling. Let’s finish eating in the sitting room. The windows are better there. We can sit and watch the snow. A bit of magic. I think we can both use it.”

Her gaze from across the table is so kind: Peggy sitting beside him as he’d cried in that bombed out pub, Peggy reminding them both of the things they have to be proud of, Peggy here and now, understanding him without words, promising so much more to come for the two of them together.

The bedroom door slams open without warning, and both Steve and Peggy shoot up in bed as all four of their kids tumble through the door.

“It’s snowing,” Emma says, fingers fluttering gleefully downward as she catapults toward the bed.

“Snow day!” Drea sings eagerly, bouncing into the blankets. “Snow day!”

And indeed, when Steve looks out the window into the near darkness, he finds several inches already on the ground and more still falling.

“I guess you’re right,” he says. “Any chance you all will go back to sleep for at least a couple more hours?” When they blink up at him (Rosie actually snorting out a laugh), he just shrugs. “Okay. Pancakes, I guess.”

The roads aren’t going to be cleared for several hours at least - everything around here shuts down for even a sprinkling. Peggy could likely place a few calls to give herself some sort of priority in order to get in for at least the later morning, but she doesn’t. Instead, for the first time in its history, Peggy phones her work and tells them to activate the phone tree and inform everyone at the Washington office that they can switch to essential staff members only for the day.

“That was nice of you,” Steve comments, giving her a smile, a brief kiss, and a cup of tea as she joins them all in the kitchen.

“They can always telephone in an emergency, though there hopefully won’t be any today.” She sips her tea, watching him standing there flipping pancakes on the griddle and adding bacon to a pan, looking at the children bundled in their robes, making wonderful, impossible plans for the day. “And it was a bit of a gift to me as well.”

The radio news, along with the official school closure, announces that the storm might have some staying power. By the time they’ve finished breakfast, it’s late enough that Steve says he’ll dig out his old snow boots and go see if the store’s open to pick up some essentials.

Even for him, the walk to town takes longer than usual, and it turns out that their early rising was lucky: people are flowing into the market and the shelves are starting to clear. Steve gets a bag full of staples, then asks Mr. Hillyard if he can leave them in the back office for a bit and borrow his phone to call Peggy. Looking around, he sees several elderly shoppers who likely need a hand getting things back home - the wind has a bite to it and they probably shouldn’t be out in that at all, much less carrying heavy bags down uncleared roads.

It’s several hours before he’s finished making deliveries and promising to come back tomorrow to help shovel walkways, before he finally starts home himself. On the way he is waved over by Wally Davenport, father of Rose’s friend Marcia, a portly man with his coat zipped to his chin who stands talking to Mrs. Gregory, the grade school principal.

“Cold enough for you?” he asks, fairly cheerfully Steve thinks for someone who has his hands stuffed so deep in his pockets that he’s bent nearly in half. Mrs. Gregory waves goodbye to the two of them, looking a bit relieved to be freed from conversation.

“I’m ready to be back home with Peggy and the kids,” Steve says, shifting the bag in his arm and trying not to sound pointed.

“Bet that brood of yours is happy to have the day off,” Wally replies obliviously. “I know that my two are—”

Later, it is hard to tell whether Steve’s hearing or his speed makes the difference. Likely it’s both: his sharp ears immediately detecting the moment that the branch of the old, spreading pine above them, unused to the weight of snow, cracks and collapses, his instinctive arm hauling Wally out of the way as the enormous bough crashes down before them.

“Lord almighty,” Wally says, swiping a hand across his forehead and staring wide-eyed as if he expects the sidewalk to have crumbled into pieces from the force of it. “You’re pretty fast there, Grant. Don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

If you hadn’t been here, Steve thinks to himself, walking through the overcast, snow-cushioned streets after he’s sent Wally back home to his wife and kids. Perhaps if he hadn’t been there, Marcia and Dougie would have found their memories of this day destroyed by the memory of their father’s death. Perhaps if he hadn’t been there, Wally would have already moved on toward home, heard about the fallen branch only later, whistled when he walked by and spotted it.

This life, the life he and Peggy have made themselves...He lives always within its normalcy, lives with the knowledge that he is in some ways entirely apart. Some days - when Nate asks if he thinks people will ever really walk on the moon, the afternoon Rose brought home that first Beatles record, saying her friends told her it was pretty good - he is struck by all that he knows, all the ways he is permanently outside of time. Some days, like when he’d turned on the news to see, suddenly before him, footage of John Glenn circling the earth for the first time, he feels entirely a part of it all, and sometimes, like when he’d seen Jerrie Cobb go up six months later, he finds pride in what he’s managed to do here. And often, he does not even think of it much, is simply a husband, a father, with errands to complete and homework to oversee, listening to his children’s chatter, Peggy’s laugh or her sharp sigh when they talk in bed at night.

The house, as he approaches it, looks unfamiliar for a moment, and then he blinks. There is Emma’s window, with the pretty curtains she’d selected. There is the scratch Nate left on the garage door when he was learning to make turns on his bike last summer. There, beneath the snow and frozen earth, sleep the bulbs he’d planted. There is the porch swing where he and Peggy sit to have a drink together when it’s warm out, the welcome mat where Rosie dropped a pitcher of Kool-Aid and left a stain, the front door that Drea will help him touch up in the spring.

He walks down the front hallway, feeling each step. In the doorway to the living room, he stops. The kids are still in their robes, scattered around with books and blankets, barely glancing at him. They’ve built a fire; it is still high in the grate.

Peggy is sitting with her own book, leaning on one arm of the sofa with her feet tucked beside her. She looks up at him, her hair a bit messy, eyes familiar, all of her beautiful.

“Oh good, you’re home,” she says. “We were waiting for you to get back before we went out into the yard together.”

He can picture it: snowmen and snow angels and forts and everyone laughing their way through a merciless snowball fight, burrowing back inside to wrap their hands around mugs of hot chocolate. Having this day, this wonderful day, and another tomorrow and for days and years to come, perhaps not the same, certain to be filled also with shock and worry and disappointment and heartache, but made of so many of these same small and loving moments.

“Yeah,” Steve says, complete with it all. “Yeah, I’m home.”

More chapters here

[blissfulalchemist]

FULL CLEAR for the top chefs, if you don't mind! 💋

Ah my dear thank you! I love these two! I am leaving numbers out of it cause it’s a Full Clear!

- How do they fall asleep? Wake up? Any daily rituals?

Well see Cat tries to fall asleep with herself cuddled close to Raf as much as possible but he eventually always ends up on his back and she on her side most of the time. In the winter though she’s stuck on him cause it gets too cold in the night. It’s to hard to have daily rituals when one person sleeps in more than the other, though since he wakes up earlier than her Raf tucks Cat back into bed.  - How’s their team work? Do they share well?

They have very great team work! .....when you don’t bring cooking into the mix. Then it’s not so great...However! You put them in a competition as a team and they can work perfectly in sync! If you would like to see examples as to how this may look please click here and here - Are they open about their relationship? How do they feel about public displays of affection?

They are very open about their relationship to a point where it makes people sick to their stomach. Cat can’t help herself by there being PDA but they are under control of it, there is a time and place for everything. There is always an arm being slung over the other or a hand being held.  - First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?

Cat it may as well have been, she just couldn’t get him out of her head. Though she felt a bit sad for him since he was lamenting on the state of the food and how some ingredients were harder to come by so he could cook. Raf wasn’t ever a love at first sight kind of person, though he could very much tell how nervous she was and how she liked him. But she was nice and helped him out so he was very appreciative of that. Though the nerves and her comment on not making a nickname around her height was exactly how she got her nickname Conejito or Little Bunny in Spanish. - Nicknames? Pet names? Any in-jokes?

Raf always calls her Conejito or mi amante(but that’s for more private times). Cat has yet to find a single nickname for him, though she opts to try and give him pop culture names, she really tried to get Poe to stick but sadly no one saw what she saw. She settles to call him love most of the time in both english and spanish. 

In-jokes: Their first kiss, the debate is still up as to what their first kiss is since Cat had to kiss him on impulse before they ever dated. There is also the running joke of who’s the worse cook between the two of them. Both will give more and more ridiculous reasons as to why the other is the worse on. Raf’s favorite is based on the comment Cat made about channeling her ancestors to get the recipe right, she meant it as a small joke but he never let it go. - Any tasks that are always left to one person?

Cleaning tends to get left on Raf most of the time because she can “never clean right”. She can’t meet his level so she just lets him do it most of the time since he’ll just go back over it anyway if she does.  - What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?

Cat tends to get annoyed by how bossy Raf can be. It’s not always bad and she acknowledges she can be bossy but sometimes he takes it too far, or it feels that way at times. She also gets annoyed over how closed off he can be with some of his emotions, she’s used to have a partner that was open with her so its a bit of an adjustment.

Raf gets annoyed with how loose she can be about some things despite needing to be in control. It did also annoy him at first when she would spend the whole day sleeping in bed and how she would deflect some questions about her past with him.  - What do the like best about their partner?

Cat loves how much like home he feels to her. How he’s so fun and open to the world. The loyalty and sense of family he has. He complements her. His cooking. How sensitive he is to who she is and never once seeing her for who she was before they met. 

Raf loves her heart, passion, and how similar they can be. She’s listened to him and never judged him for anything he was. The hope she can have for the world despite how much it hurt her. - Do they discuss big issues? Religion? Marriage? Children? Death?

They do. They were friends before they started to date and had these conversations before a bit. Talks about death and religion more so. Once they get together these conversations come up more and it’s hard for Cat to really open up on her feelings about marriage and children given her past. She expresses that she wants those things but that’s about it for the longest time. Religion is one the two talk about seriously since Cat isn’t religious like Raf is. It is very important to him and understands it but they come into agreeance in how it will be handled in their futures together. This becomes a major talk since she cannot get married in the catholic church like Raf and his family would like since she never did her confirmation or communion.  - Who drives? Cooks? Does the handiwork? Cleans? Pays the bills? Handles the public?

Raf’s the safer driver but Cat likes to drive a lot more. Don’t even ask about the cooking with these two. Handiwork falls more to Raf or Wes cause he seems to be around a lot, Cat does try and she knows some tricks. Cleaning goes to Raf again. Bills is an even split, both have the ones it’s their job to keep up on. Handling the public goes to Raf more because he’s just more charismatic than she is and she tends to have more nerves than him. - Do they celebrate holidays? Anniversaries?

They celebrate major holidays in big ways! Christmas, Halloween, Valentine’s Day, Easter once they have kids, and Thanksgiving always expect there to be something from them. There are even religious holidays and traditions that are observed in the house and practiced by Raf, Cat will try and join him for what she can, though lent still doesn’t stick for her no matter how much she tries but their menu changes during that time. 

- Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Any kind of honeymoon?

There is a wedding and depending on the universe it can be a small one with just the closest people to them or big! There will be entertainment, dancing, good food, church bells, the whole nine yards! The proposal was weeks of planning and secret talks and dropping Cat off at friend’s houses to keep her occupied while Raf took care of everything he needed. Trying to make the dinner party seem like any other was the hardest part as he wanted her taken completely by surprise. Honeymoon would be either a secluded place in the mountains or by the coast. If they could and had all the money in the world I expect there to be a world tour of cuisine.  - What do they do for fun? Do they have a favorite activity or do they like to switch things up?

As much as they fight about it they both love to cook together. Watching movies and shows is something they both enjoy also. Trivia games and board games in general are a past time for the two of them. They also try new restaurants while going to the theatre for operas, musicals, ballets, etc. Trips to the museums and other places of knowledge and art.   - Anything they both dread?

Certain emotional blocks they both have. Neither wants the other to leave but from different perspectives. Raf would fear she’d runaway if things got bad, given that she did in a way and it’s why she ended up in Montana, its not a far fetched idea. Cat worries about him no longer being there and getting that call again. A conjoined fear they have is for Wes though, they both worry so much for his well being and maybe hang around him too much because of this. - How adventurous are they?

Outside the bedroom? They like to try new things now and again. They’re smart about it but like to see what’s new. In the bedroom? They are pretty adventurous.  - Do they keep secrets? Lie? Cheat?

Neither cheat or outwardly lie in a malicious way. The secrets though, those they do keep from each other for a while. Cat especially, she doesn’t open up about what happened to her first marriage for fear that she would be met with everything she left behind, the looks, whispers, sympathy, misunderstanding of her feelings, being only known as the widow, etc.. She also loved living in this little fantasy world where none of that happened but like all things she had to confront it again and accept the consequences.  - What would make them break up? Would it be permanent?

They do break up for a little bit(like 2 weeks max) there because again Cat refuses to open up about her past and well that’s really frustrating. At one point she’s given a slight ultimatum about it. Basically being told that if she chose to walk away from the fight to not come back. This isn’t permanent as there is outside help(See Wes) encouraging forcing her to open up and just accept whatever happens because it would also help her despite him not knowing what it is either. - What are their dates like? How long do/did they date? Do they ever feel the need to take a break from each other?

Their dates in canon start off as casual times, mostly at Wes’ place cause it’s easier for Cat to sneak away too(sorry man you gotta be part of this). Them hanging out together starts off with trying to out cook the other and then attempts to bring things like broadway, ballets, and operas to the comfort of home. Cat brings over any nerdy movie and she can find, lots of game nights, especially once she ropes John into finally coming over cause she had Wes and John pegged from the get go(she lives with John how could she not know). Other calmer universes, their dates kind of start extravagant cause Raf does most of the planning of them but when she plans them they are more casual and laid back, going out to the woods, playing video games at the Pizza Bar, and good old movie dates.

- What do they fight about? What are their arguments like? How do they make up?

Okay these two look like they are fighting most of the time because of how much it happens in the kitchen, however it never gets super loud and angry. It is also their foreplay a lot of times. Beyond that though when they do fight it is more lecturing and short words but never yelling at the other. They can both be guarded still with certain things but they work on it. There is also make up sex that happens after there is comfort, compromises, plans made to be better and fix the issue, and sorrys passed around. The amount of time this lasts is anywhere from an hour to all night.  - What does their home look like? Their room?

There is enough decor to give the lived in feel that Cat loves but it is also very neat and clean. If there are books and magazines on the table you can expect them to be stacked and arranged in a specific way. There is color in almost every room in the house and their room follows suit though expect there to be one room in the house that Cat is allowed to be messier in cause it’s just her space. The kitchen though! That is their pride and joy! The one place that is kept impeccable and Cat actually keeps up with it as much as Raf does.  - Do they share any interests or hobbies?

Other than their love of cooking, both are academically inclined people and have a love for the arts, though Cat is more interested in the pop culture arts she has a love and appreciation for Raf’s more refined arts.  - Does their work ever interfere with the relationship?

Canon a little. This has to do with the fact that Cat is publicly married and a part of Eden’s Gate and Raf well isn’t. Though her specific work at the outreach center helps in making their meetings and getting to know the other easier. It also helps Raf in getting more people a second chance if they want to leave Eden’s Gate since, despite the giant signs(Thanks John) her place is made to be neutral ground. Though they watch how friendly they get at first until Cat finally spills to Wes and John she knew about them for a long time. 

Now friendlier universes his work does. Being he has dreams and a plan for a military career there are times at first before they are married that he is far from her. Even after they are and she’s traveling with him, there are times she can’t be with him. When this happens though she stays near their friends back home. It makes it a little hard but much easier with modern technology to keep in touch. - How do they hug? Kiss? Tease? Flirt? Comfort?

Raf is more of the one to tease Cat for just about everything, all in good fun, but she tries to keep up and does get her way with him every now and again. Cat is big on showing affection when she can, so hugs, kissing on shoulders hands lips cheeks just about anywhere safe in public is something she does a lot. He is okay with this also and lets her and will initiate touch a lot of times too.  - Any doubts about the relationship?

Raf took more time to get into it or even play with the idea of them together so there’s little doubts from him really. Cat has doubts stemming from the long and yet short lived previous relationship. She also doubts herself as being good enough for him, and meeting expectations of his family. Despite sharing the same culture the two grew up differently and there are some things she missed out on due to that.  - How much time do they spend together? Do they share their feelings, or hold things in?

They spend a lot of time together, even if they aren’t doing the same things they are together. In most all universes Cat tends to move in with him first and it kind of just happens, like they look around are just like well hey this happened. They share feelings because this is something big for Cat to have in a relationship but again there are some things the two of them keep back but eventually those things come out and they can work through them.  - How do their friends feel about their relationship? Their families?

Their friends are happy for them, and love them together. Cat’s friends form back home are happy that she found someone new even though all are hesitant to accept him, but with that charm of his it doesn’t last long. Raf’s family accepts and loves her even though they do wish she was a little more religious, but she’s got good morals and values. Cat’s family, well that charm isn’t enough and it takes more time. Mostly from the idea that she seemed to just shack up with the first guy to take interest in her. And there’s the notion that he can’t beat her first husband. Her sisters are the most critical with Raf and warm up once they can confirm that he’s not someone taking advantage of their sister. Dad is easier but there are things that Raf has and does in his life that makes it easier to identify and communicate with Raf.  - Do they have kids? Grow old together? Split up?

They do have two kids of their own(Great genes you know?) they have a daughter Lizette about a year after they marry and then her little brother Daniel “Danny”(They would have named him Wes but he doesn’t like his full name) about 2.5 years after her. It is up in the air still about adopting another one but one never knows. They do grow old together and have grandkids and live such a full life really.  - What are their vacations like?

Depends on what they are going for really. Family vacations are more structured while couple getaways are more laid back. They go international a few times, get a cabin cut off from everyone (See Wes trying to cook pancakes), the coast, or even areas with major museums and theatres. - How do the handle disasters or emergencies? Minor injuries? Sickness?

These two have plans in place for many things and are handled calmly and efficently. Minor injuries can be treated at home most of the time, with both knowing a basic CPR and first aid due to their careers. Sickness well there is a mixture of what doctors say and old family tricks, like almost anything having to do with the throat if its minor can be solved with Lemon honey tea. Both though become very attentive to the other when one is sick and sometimes it looks like too much. - Could they manage a long distance relationship?

I think they could honestly. Both are very loyal people and with technology involved now a days it’s so much easier to keep in contact. It’s also something that is acknowledged throughout their relationship even in canon universe when they talk about life after the whole Eden’s Gate is over. He still has his plan and she doesn’t want to stop him form that.

- Do they finish each other’s sentences? Pick up any phrases or habits from each other? Know when the other is hiding something?

Depending on the context Cat tends to get a little over excited and will interject finishing Raf’s sentences, but the main thing she picks up from him is Spanish. She already knew some but becomes more fluent in it as their relationship progresses. I think he would pick up on some phrases or references she says a lot, his imitations of her become really spot on. Cat can figure out if he’s hiding something but never what specifically all the time. He can tell a lot more often and can pinpoint it but some things she’s good at keeping by just redirecting most of the time. - Do they ever get into trouble? Is it serious, or are they just mischievous?

With each other? Raf does cause he’s the one to more so pull pranks and tease her. Nothing ever to serious all in good fun. She tries but they don’t always work out and sometimes others coughwescough get caught in the crossfire of those ones. With the law? Might be Cat more likely because drunk her couldn’t help but get involved in a fight and Raf was just a little late in stopping her. - What kind of presents do they get each other? Do they only do it on special occasions?

See I feel they give presents all the time to each other because they both cook the other’s favorite dishes pretty often, but I also count food as a gift so that may just be a me thing. Material things one can’t consume Cat more so. It’s always little things here and there, like a flower or something he mentioned needing even if it’s boring like shaving cream. I mean their whole first meeting stemmed from her leaving a gift for Raf. When it comes to special occasions she puts more thought and time into gifts, this is where she could plan some event or make sure there’s meaning behind what she gives. It’s a toss up of what she will give. Raf though likes to go extra and so he more so sticks to special occasions and events but don’t think for one second that he doesn’t put a lot of thought into it and care. Everything is well planned and perfection with him. If he does bring home gifts on non special occasions it tends to be junk food she loves or the flowers that would be thrown out, because she likes having someone appreciating their beauty before they’re just tossed out.  - Do they have any pets?

“Pleas it’ll be good practice for kids.”

“Wes is practice enough.”

“Okay but hear me out though. Wes is lonely and needs a friend.”

“Fine one dog and that’s it.” *Cat opens to protest*”And don’t try to press your luck with it, Conejito.”

Jokes aside in all reality though maybe one dog and/cat. - Do they bring out the best in each other, or the worst? Do they have a fatal flaw?

They bring out the best in each other. They both find a peace with the other and help the other heal. If they have a fatal flaw it’s the fact they are both pretty bossy. - What’s their greatest strength as a couple? Their weakness?

Their values. They permeate in how they interact with the world and the two of them together can be a force to be reckoned with. Weakness I would put their protective natures. Individually this isn’t bad but together it can be a lot.  - How much would they be willing to sacrifice for the other? Any lines they refuse to cross?

For the other’s happiness they would sacrifice almost everything. Cat especially, but she always this idea of what does she have to lose and negative self talk still. There might be a point where Raf would stop, but this could change. See these questions become hard because when it comes down to it how you say your answer is and when it happens can become two different answers.  - What are they like in the bedroom? Any kinks/fetishes/turn-ons? Anything they won’t do?

Bedroom is very active and a lot of being bossed around on Cat’s end. She tries, she really does but what can I say? Raf is bossy af! They dabble in different things and try new kinks and things to see what they like and don’t like. They don’t get bored in that department. Cat will not take anything up the ass, she’s tried it before but it’s just not for her. Now pegging Raf on the other hand is on the table. - Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love?

Raf initiated the relationship because it takes him longer to feel that is something he wants. Cat kissed Raf first, though it is still a debate on what their first kiss was. Realizing they were in love Cat fell hard first and she felt love within a few months of just knowing him, but really feeling that true deep emotional connection with him, that real love, came about a month after she opened up about everything with her first marriage once they dated. Raf fell in love a few months into the romantic relationship and told her as such almost naturally. Cat had said it to him before that but he had to make sure you know.  - Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to?

I’m putting various universes in this because I love them. As embarrassed as Cat is with that drunken kiss it becomes a special memory for the two of them. The dinner party engagement. Their first real date, where their first kiss was in the rain after an opera. When their kids were born. Their wedding, the smaller one they did behind their families backs. Meeting face to face the first time. Just a lot of little things, each have their own list but these are the mutual ones. They always go back to Hope County because that’s where it all began for them.  - Are they party-goers? What are they like when they’re drunk? Does it happen often?

Cat isn’t one to actively look for parties but is very content with gatherings of her friends. Raf is the more social extroverted one. Though get Cat drunk and she can give him a run for his money, there is a reason why you never get Cat and Wes super drunk in a room together. Raf doesn’t get drunk to affect him but he can start to be a downer when he gets too drunk. They all drink in more social settings, Cat doesn’t drink as much because she’s such a light weight but will go big when she does.  - Do they let each other get away with things that would normally bother them?

Yes. Though there is a limit to this and both of them know where that limit lies. Cat let’s Raf get away with a lot though, gotta love those rose colored glasses. - Do they talk often? What about?

In the beginning they talk a lot about just anything and everything. Sometimes conversations get deep, sometimes they get educational, or they just stay at surface level. As the relationship progresses though both can be content with not talking all the time, just being near each other. After awhile words never need to be said between a couple and by then kids take over the conversation silence. - Are the comfortable with each other? Anything they have to have their privacy for?

They are very comfortable with the other and because of this they know when the other needs space or have their privacy. I don’t think there’s anything too specific they always need privacy for. They become that couple that tells the other everything, but when they say they need privacy it’s given.  - Any special dreams or goals they have as a couple? Any heartbreaks? Regrets?

Having a family, keeping a heart that’s at peace, grow old together. Must there be an end goal really other than to feel love from another person and fulfil the human need to not be alone. Heartbreaks there was one and that was the same reason there was a bit of a break between them. Cat just is so scare about opening up with her past. After a while there is no regrets because life works in weird ways to put people together.