#not to mention there's only like three fics of the thruple on ao3

[rosesradio]

although i make a big thing of shipping bobby with jess and/or ali and saying he’s the Certified Straight Ally™, make no mistake that i am a multishipper and willing to explore the realm of him being bi

like i’m not really about him/johnny (i do understand how it could be cute though!) but him/daniel is intriguing and cute. like as much as i love lawrusso’s enemies to lovers, the idea of a group of bullies picking on him and then the sweetest one decides to break away because he’s fallen for the enemy is really sweet to me. and i love the concept of bobby/johnny/daniel, like them as a thruple would have a lot of fun elements to explore.

obviously at this point in ctp i’ve said my piece on bobby’s character (or have i?) and i’m at least not gonna write a new ship for him, but it might be something to explore in the future. just a thought

[stitchcasual]

A Running Date

Live on AO3 or click through the cut for the full thing

a real fluffy Fenhawke fic with a wedding meetcute because We Deserve It

"Who's the hot guy with tattoos?"

Marian and Isabela share a look, high five, then Isabela extends a hand toward her new wife.

"Pay up, darling."

Marian grumbles and slaps a bill too crushed and crumpled for Garrett to make out the denomination into Isabela's hand. The look on her face says it wasn't small, however. The two of them are sitting on a slightly raised piece of flooring at the back end of the social hall Marian and Garrett's mother has rented for Marian's wedding reception. They're receiving visitors there, a whole line of people waiting to convey their best wishes to the happy couple on their happy day. Garlands and flowers decorate nearly every piece of available space, and despite the fervor with which Marian had opposed having a high society reception like their mother wanted, she and Isabela are holding court up here like they're royalty.

"You bet on whether or not I'd ask about him?" Garrett asks, unsure whether he should be offended or not.

Marian grins at him. "Of course not, dear brother. I would never do that to my favorite twin. We bet on how long it would take you to ask."

Isabela cackles. Garrett is definitely offended, but he supposes he does have a history of doing this. It's not his fault his sister attracts hot, queer people, though, so he can't be blamed for it.

"Anyway, that's Fenris."

"That's Fenris?"

Fenris and Marian work together, and she's told a few stories about him over the years when she and Garrett get together for drinks. According to her, Fenris is hilarious and intelligent, if a little grumpy and standoffish, and her favorite coworker. Garrett takes another look over at Fenris, standing against a wall with a nearly empty wine glass. Where Garrett is tall and broad, Fenris is average height and narrow; where Garrett is pale skinned and dark haired, Fenris has light brown skin and white hair. He's utterly gorgeous, which is the conclusion Garrett came to after an hour of trying not to stare at him rocking the hell out of that tuxedo during the ceremony. Fenris stood in Isabela's eclectic mix of bridespeople while Garrett performed his duties as his twin sister's best man and thankfully didn't stumble over too much in the course of what he was expected to say.

"Yep. And he is incredibly out of your league, but because you're my brother and I love you so much, take this when you go talk to him." Marian pulls a bottle of wine from behind her chair and somehow manages to hand it over to Garrett despite the scuffle with Isabela that ensues when she sees which bottle it is.

"That's cheating, kitten," Isabela pouts. "We'll have to amend our bet."

Garrett hightails it away from the dias after kissing his sister on the cheek, not wanting to hear exactly what it is she and her troublemaker of a wife bet on this time. He does hear Carver say, "What's his problem?” and then, "Ow!" when Bethany slaps his arm as they step up next to offer their congratulations.

This is still the drinks and hors d'oeuvres hour of the reception, which means everyone's milling around and stretching their legs after the long ceremony and before the long dinner to come. Garrett snags a bottle opener from Bodahn in the kitchen, promising to return it later, and attempts to make as casual a beeline for Fenris as he can. He doesn't want to come on too aggressive, even if he's been hoping for a chance to talk to him since yesterday at the rehearsal dinner.

En route, he's waylaid by Anders and Nathaniel, his exes who had, rather amicably after a year of them all dating each other, decided they'd prefer to be a couple rather than a thruple. That had suited Garrett, eventually, once he'd realized that maybe he wasn't actually ready to date so soon after his father's death. He'd stayed friends with Anders and Nathaniel, though, and has tried dropping more than a few hints over the last few years that the two of them should get married too, but so far they haven't. As long as they're happy, though. Anders and Isabela know each other from some shadowy past encounter, or so Garrett has always liked to believe, and Nathaniel, aside from being from old money himself and thus invited on his own merits thanks to Leandra’s system, goes wherever Anders does.

They let him go when he, after several minutes of polite conversation, explodes quietly that he's trying to go hit on someone thank you very much and if they'd be so kind as to let him get on with that. Or, rather, Nathaniel lets him go and covers Anders's mouth with one hand when Anders tries to say more than, "Him?? Why would you want to—"

Garrett approaches Fenris slowly, within eyeshot (sneaking up behind someone seems like it might make for a bad first impression), and grips and regrips the wine bottle, hoping desperately that it doesn't fall out of his hands, as suddenly sweaty as they seem to be. The murmur of voices around him is simultaneously too loud and too soft, and he doesn't know how to pitch his voice so it carries to Fenris without deafening him. He settles for a wave with his free hand when Fenris's eyes lock onto him during their sweep around the room. Fenris nods in return, brushing soft looking white hair out of his eyes.

Okay so the wave was a mistake. Bad first greeting. Garrett raises his other hand, the one holding the wine bottle, and tries again, adding the smile Marian has told him is dick-worthy. He's pretty sure she means that well. Fenris raises an eyebrow, considers, and gestures to the wall beside him with his wine glass. Garrett takes the hint: he opens the bottle immediately after settling next to Fenris and pours a generous amount into the glass.

And then he realizes he forgot to bring himself a glass too.

"Sorry, uh…Bran," he says, reading the table setting as he purloins the wine glass from the seat closest to him.

He chooses to believe that the look on Fenris’s face is amusement, and raises his newly obtained and filled wine glass in a toast. Fenris taps his glass gently against Garrett’s and sips. His beautiful, holy shit so beautiful, green eyes widen a second later, and he pins Garrett with a searching gaze.

“Where did you get this?” Fenris asks, and his voice is so low and rough and unexpected that Garrett short-circuits. In all her stories, Marian hadn’t mentioned anything about a voice Garrett would be one hundred percent okay with doing absolutely filthy things with. That the voice is attached to someone as handsome as Fenris is a perk.

“Why? Is it good?” he asks, finally drinking himself. “Oh, holy shit, yes, it is.” He takes another sip, expending a considerable amount of willpower to keep from gulping it down. This wine is fantastic.  

“Well,” he says, raising the bottle and peering at the label, “apparently this is the kind of shit rich people give as presents at weddings.”

“I didn’t get one,” Fenris sniffs, and Garrett laughs.

“I didn’t get one either, but the bride…uh, bride number one? Or would she be number two? I think Marian proposed so would that make her number one? Anyway, one of the brides is my twin sister and she let me have it.”

“Your sister must love you a lot to part with a bottle of Aggregio.”

“How did you—”

“I have a discerning palate.”

Fenris closes his eyes as he drinks again, savoring the wine. Garrett tries not to stare, he really, really does, but the way Fenris’s throat works when he swallows and the little sound he makes are entirely too difficult to ignore.

“I’ll have to thank my sister, I guess. You know, eventually. When she’s not swarmed by mobs of fancy-dressed fans.” Garrett loosens his tie, tugging back and forth with a finger until he can undo the top button of his dress shirt as well. His mother will rake him over the coals for this, but right now the comfort and extra air are necessary; the wine and proximity to such an attractive person are attempting to do him in.

“So, you are Marian’s brother.”

The question is less of a question and more of a statement coming from Fenris, and Garrett’s stomach swirls nauseatingly with the wine.

“Technically yes, though Carver’s also her brother, technically. If we’re being specific.”

Fenris rumbles with laughter. Garrett’s pretty sure if he’d been standing any closer to Fenris he would have been able to feel the vibrations of that sound.

“Please tell me she hasn’t been spreading embarrassing stories about me to everyone at work.” He would cover his face with a hand but both are occupied, and so he just hangs his head and only chances looks at Fenris out of the corner of his eyes.

“Horribly scandalous stories, I’m afraid.”

Garrett groans and closes his eyes.

“I have heard about your fifth birthday party three times.”

“Oh, sweet Maker, strike me down now,” Garrett mutters, and now he does gulp at his wine.

“I admit, I find it fascinating that anyone could eat an entire cake without anyone noticing until he throws it all up later onto the rest of the ferris wheel riders.”

“Death would be a mercy I do not deserve, yet humbly beg of you.”

That rumbling laugh again, and Garrett risks an actual glance at Fenris. He’s smiling, the skin around his eyes crinkling in true mirth. It doesn’t sound like Fenris is mean-spirited in his teasing, just amused at the situation. Which Garrett can sometimes laugh at himself, if he’s being honest.

“I am honestly impressed that you managed to get nearly everyone else on the ride.”

And, here’s the unbelievable thing, Fenris really does sound impressed. Not disgusted. Just honestly impressed at a five-year-old Garrett’s ability to projectile vomit cake at an amusement park. That’s a first.

“It’s not my fault they built that ferris wheel with latticed roofs on the cars. They should have known better.”

Fenris barks a laugh. “That is poor design.”

“That’s what I’m saying! It’s also not my fault that mom thought I couldn’t climb up onto that counter; I’d been climbing weird shit since I was born.”

“Do you still?”

That’s a personal question. They’ve taken the turn from funny anecdote into actual conversation, and Garrett borrows courage from the wine, topping off his glass and Fenris’s, before answering. This is going leagues better than he thought it might after talking with Marian and Isabela, and though he’ll credit the wine for the initial breakthrough, the rest is just…happening.

“A little, here and there. I was big into free running for a while until, uh, some stuff happened, and I just never got quite back into it. That and I broke my ankle. Hard to run on one of those.”

‘Some stuff happened’ is Garrett’s usual way of brushing past saying ‘my father’s death really fucked me up’ so people don’t ask too many invasive questions, but Fenris is nodding like he understands. Marian was working with Fenris when their dad died, so it would stand to reason that he might know about it and make the assumption.

“Do you run anymore?”

“Now and then. I need to sign up for a race or something, hard to get motivated otherwise.”

“I understand. Would you… I do not know how far you live from Marian, but she and I are neighbors, sort of. If you wanted a running partner, that is.”

Garrett does not choke on his wine, but it’s a near thing. He’d thought, make some conversation, drink some wine, sit at the same table for dinner, and then call it a night and maybe ask Marian about Fenris after a couple weeks and see if she could arrange a party or something so they could run into each other ‘accidentally’ and then he would gather up his courage and ask Fenris on something that could be called a date if one squinted sideways at it. Things are going so well he almost doesn’t trust them. He refuses to look over at Marian and Isabela, just in case.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be great. There’s that little park near her place. I could meet you there? When do you run?”

Between the two of them as they keep conversing, they polish off the bottle of Aggregio before the hour ends and Marian and Isabela are escorted from receiving their guests to their table at the front of the hall for dinner. Garrett and Fenris sit on opposite sides of the table from each other, not able to continue talking, but they sneak a few glances. Garrett sees Isabela pass Marian a folded bill after they catch Garrett and Fenris in one of their looks, and Marian toasts in Garrett’s direction after that. He laughs, happy to see his sister so happy with Isabela (and glad that their first round of betting as a married couple ended in a draw, with one win each). Even his mother readjusting his shirt and tie before the speeches can’t dampen his good mood.

It’s just a running date, but Garrett has a feeling it’s the start to something wonderful.