#booker x copley

[negotiumcrucis]

Since we (kinda) got some news about tog2, I thought it was time for a new poll! 🥳

🔥Please do share this post to reach more people!🔥

[cynsualc829]

THE OLD GUARD 2 (2025) - POIGNANT IMMORTAL RECKONING

The Old Guard 2 (2025), helmed by Victoria Mahoney and streaming on Netflix July 2, 2025, deepens the immortal saga with a poignant, character-driven sequel scripted by Greg Rucka from his Force Multiplied comics. Charlize Theron’s Andy, ancient and weary, confronts her past when Quynh (Veronica Ngô), freed after centuries underwater, resurfaces in Booker’s (Matthias Schoenaerts) Paris flat post-exile—her vendetta a festering wound from their shared history. As Andy rallies Joe (Marwan Kenzari), Nicky (Luca Marinelli), and Nile (KiKi Layne), they’re blindsided by Discord (Uma Thurman), a scientist harvesting their DNA, and her operative Tua (Henry Golding), a former immortal hunter turned mercenary. Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor) brokers uneasy intel, revealing Quynh’s alliance with Discord threatens not just the team, but humanity’s fragile balance.

Mahoney, a fan of the original per Netflix Tudum, crafts a slower burn—rain-soaked London streets, a crumbling Roman villa—shot in muted tones by Anthony B. Richmond, evoking a lived-in Middle Ages. Rob Simonsen’s score (hypothetical) weaves mournful strings with modern pulses, mirroring Andy’s exhaustion, her mullet a “time has passed” marker Theron hyped. Layne’s Nile matures into leadership, her clash with Tua—a knife duel in a flooded crypt—stunning X users: “Nile’s the GOAT!” Thurman’s Discord, clinical yet unhinged, dissects immortality in a chilling lab standoff, Golding’s Tua her reluctant shadow. Ngô’s Quynh, all feral grace, haunts Andy in quiet moments—a seaside flashback of their betrayal aches—while Joe and Nicky’s devotion steadies the storm.

At an estimated 130 minutes, it’s a reflective beast—less action-heavy than its predecessor, some X posts grumble “Too slow,” but the emotional stakes—Booker’s mid-battle return, Andy facing Quynh’s pain—hit deep. It’s a summer sleeper that trades flash for soul, setting up a trilogy tease with gravitas and grit.

#OldGuard2 #2025Netflix #CharlizeTheron #ImmortalSoul #QuynhVsAndy #UmaThurman #HenryGolding #VictoriaMahoney #EmotionalDepth #LegacyFight

[druckkugelschreiber]

I had an avengers x the old guard crossover dream about the fight against Loki in Stuttgart. Andy was whopping Loki‘s ass and Booker was on his way over there to help while randomly chatting with Copley.

The winter soldier was also there for some reason and I was just watching the whole shit go down and had a conversation with Booker about grocery shopping as the fight broke my eggs. He offered to drive me to the grocery store but to be honest I just wanted to watch Andy stomp Loki into the ground with her axe (which I actually wrote in a Oneshot before lol)

[headcanonthings]

Joe: *throws bedroom door open* YOU TWO ARE HAVING SEX

Booker and Copley: *both sitting around reading*

Copley: *looks at Booker* We are? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down.

[shelfperson]

All the best fandoms have only two kinds of fic

5k fluffy love confessions with witty humor and happy crying

400k monsters set in the hot bowels of italy, where they just stare at each other but never touch or say anything ever and there is no such thing as ‘happy crying’.

[bewires]

39 and 69 please?? any ship you like

39 - Survival/Wilderness Fic + 69 - Flirting Under Fire

oof okay so I just watched Yellowjackets and am immediately thinking about Taissa/Van, but that's literally just the plot of the show.

I think this would be a good combo for Booker/Copley or Nile/Celeste, anything featuring one immortal partner and one mortal partner, because it offers so much potential for conflict over who gets to do what part of the survival stuff. Also competence kink. Like, Booker can for sure hunt down something for them to eat, but he'll probably get a severe injury along the way and feel justified about getting it because Copley could *literally die* doing it....whereas Copley is just like. "Gimme the rifle" and then instantly able to shoot a bird out of the sky from like three miles away.

On the other hand for Nileste, something cozier with Celeste teaching Nile to cook French food and having in-depth talks about literature in the cozy cabin they found in the wilderness, Celeste the pacifist being angry at herself for how into it she is when Nile perceives a threat and orders her around...

[caitlesshea]

the way you showed me you care

“Shit.”

Booker jumps about a half foot in the air and almost falls off the couch at the sound of his phone ringing. It’s been months since anyone has contacted him, so long that he was beginning to wonder why he even kept it charged. 

In some self sacrificial moments he thought about changing his number so they couldn’t contact him, tricking himself into thinking they would. 

He fumbles forward and goes to answer when it blessedly stops ringing. Just because it takes an insane amount of alcohol for him to get drunk doesn’t mean he hasn’t spent the last couple of months trying. 

Just as he lays back down on the couch it rings again and when he goes to answer it his stomach sinks. 

Copley. 

“What?” Booker growls into the phone and the voice on the other end just sighs.

“How soon can you get to London?”

“Why? Is Andy?” 

“Everyone’s fine.”

Booker releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and rubs his forehead until he calms down.

“Then why?”

“London. How long?”

Booker holds his phone in front of him, trying to figure out the time and what day it is.

“Give me a couple of hours.”

“Fine. You remember how to get to my place?”

“How could I forget?” Booker responds dryly and he’s only slightly disappointed when Copley doesn’t say anything back. 

“Do you need anything? Money?”

Booker swallows at the softness in Copley’s voice. They’ve always had a friendly enough relationship, one doesn’t get to the point of asking someone to help you end it all without being somewhat close. They always understood each other in that regard.

“That’s the last thing I need. I’ll see you tonight.”

Booker hangs up before Copley can say anything and he smiles as his email pings with a train ticket to London and a rental car reservation. 

He takes one last look at his shitty apartment and grabs the duffel bag he’s had packed since he first got to Paris. 

At the last minute he picks up the copy of Don Quixote that Andy gave him and shoves it into his bag before grabbing his keys and his current passport, a French one, for once. 

Something about being exiled for a hundred years makes him want to be sentimental. And drunk. But he figures he can drink on the train. 

In what feels like no time at all he’s pulling up to Copley’s weirdly modern house in the outskirts of London. Booker tries not to think about what Copley could possibly want, especially considering he dragged Booker to London for it. Before he even turns off the engine Copley is outside waiting for him. 

“You made it.”

“Very astute of you.”

Copley rolls his eyes and Booker follows Copley into his house, setting his bag down on the couch. 

“Gonna tell me why I’m here?”

“I need your help.”

“My help?” Booker asks as Copley hands him a glass of scotch. 

Booker looks around Copley’s office, weird detective board still firmly in place, and waits for Copley to answer. 

When it seems like Copley isn’t going to say anything anytime soon, Booker walks over to the board, heart clenching at seeing Andy’s, Nicky’s, and Joe’s faces reflected back at him.

“None of me?”

“You told me you were immortal. I didn’t really need to do any research on you.”

“Mmm.” Booker swirls the drink in his glass and smirks.

“Couldn’t figure out my real name could you?”

Copley smiles and Booker shakes his head as he laughs.

“You’re very good.”

“Oh, I know.”

Copley smirks at him and Booker feels himself relax for the first time in months.

“So, my help?”

“There’s a job.” Copley hands him an iPad and Booker looks it over. “Andy agreed, but I need supplies and I don’t want to put them on the radar of any of my contacts.”

Booker raises an eyebrow at that and he swears he can see regret in Copley’s eyes.

“Joe and Nicky can get them. They know who we used.”

“Joe and Nicky?”

“Just because they’re super old doesn’t mean they can’t use a computer.”

“But Andy?”

“Oh, yeah, Andy’s terrible.” Booker walks over to sit in one of the chairs as Copley takes the other. “But Joe and Nicky aren’t half bad and I’m sure Nile is even better.”

“Nile. A millennial she is.”

Booker laughs and hands back the iPad. “She giving you trouble?”

“She just wants to have social media, wants to see her family, the usual.”

“Well, Nicky and Joe have an Instagram.”

“They what?” Copley looks like his eyes are going to bug out of his head and Booker rolls his eyes as he opens his phone.

“Not in their names or anything. It’s one of those couple’s accounts. They never show their faces and Nicky thinks he’s funny, posting old photos of them, making people think it’s a filter instead of a yellowed Polaroid.”

“Jesus.”

“Just give Nile some ground rules.”

“And the family part?”

“Ah, yeah, I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask.”

“Why?”

Booker looks up at Copley and realizes he’s genuinely curious. Booker takes a moment to spin his wedding ring that he stills wears and notices Copley still wears his as well. It makes something clench in his chest that he can’t really describe.

“Nothing good will come from her seeing them.” Booker ends up saying quietly and Copley nods. 

Booker doesn’t know what to do with the look on Copley’s face. It’s not pity, or even understanding, but it’s something close, and that makes his heart hurt. 

“Here.” Booker emails Copley the contacts and supplies he’d use for this mission and he waits for Copley to read it before getting up to leave.

“Stay.” Copley says as Booker walks past him. “For dinner I mean, and you can go back to Paris tomorrow.”

“Dinner.” Booker says, even though he packed for at least a week, and doesn’t want to look too closely at why he doesn’t want to leave.

“You cook?” Copley jokes. “You’ve had what, two hundred years to learn?”

“Nice try.” Booker walks into the kitchen with Copley behind him and takes a seat at the bar as Copley pulls out some food.

“Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?” Copley asks as he cuts up some veggies for what looks like a stir fry. “None of you have, actually.”

Booker swallows roughly at the mention of everyone else and he wishes he refilled his scotch before coming out here. One appears in front of his view and Copley gives him a wry smile.

“We don’t really talk about these things.”

“What things?”

“You know.” Booker waves in the general direction of Copley’s office. “Immortality, with anyone who’s not…”

“Ah.” Copley nods and throws the veggies and chicken he pulled out of the fridge into a wok. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Copley turns to look at Booker and Booker can’t explain it but he feels seen like he never has before. “Doesn’t that get lonely?”

“I think you know the answer to that already, James.”

Copley nods and they sit in companionable silence while the food cooks. Booker wishes he had more to say, but the sting of losing his friends, his family, sits heavy in his throat. 

There’s no Nicky to bet if Andy will guess all the flavors in the latest baklava. There’s no Joe to watch football with and cheer for any team who’s wearing the color green because ‘Nicolò’s eyes.’ There’s no Andy to…

He’s brought out of his musings by Copley’s shout. 

“They have almost a million followers!” 

Booker can’t help it, he throws his head back and laughs, really laughs, for the first time in months. 

~~~ 

Booker was supposed to go home the next day. But it’s been almost three weeks and he hasn’t left. 

It’s not that he wants to stay, that’s a lie, but Copley keeps asking for help on jobs or how to deal with the team and Booker, the martyr, can’t stop himself from asking for more information. 

It’s not like he can’t figure out where they are. He helped them disappear in the world for almost two hundred years, he knows how they operate, but that feels a little too invasive, even for him. 

“They want to take a break for a little while.” Copley sits down next to him with coffee and passes one to Booker.

That’s another thing. Booker isn’t drinking as much and his flask is in his bag. Copley brings him coffee, tea, water. Almost anytime Booker sees the man drinking something, he brings something for Booker, as well. Booker knows it’s a tactic to get him to stop drinking as much, but he finds that he doesn’t care. 

“They do that.”

Copley just looks at him and Booker is reminded of the CIA Agent he met nearly nine years prior. 

“When you’re as old…” Booker smiles at Copley’s look of interest. “Nice try. But breaks are good. And Nile is still new.”

“When will she stop being new?”

“When Andy thinks she’s ready.”

“For?”

“Honestly? Probably never now that Andy’s…”

“Mortal?”

Booker swallows and looks up at Copley. The storm brewing in his own eyes is met with a compassion he doesn’t deserve. He looks away before he does something ridiculous like cry but not soon enough for Copley to notice.

“Booker.”  Copley breathes deeply, almost like it pains him that Booker is hurting. “How long is your exile?”

“A hundred years.”

“A hundred years?”

“Yeah.” Booker doesn’t even realize he’s saying the next part until Copley’s gasp. “A third of my life.”

“A third? So you’re two hundred?”

Booker sighs and figures if the man is letting him live in his house then he might as well be honest with him. 

“I turned two hundred and fifty this past May.”

“Two hundred fifty…” Copley trails off with a look of concentration. “Seventeen seventy?”

“Got it in one.”

“Well, shit.”

Booker laughs at the look on Copley’s face. “You have a board of over a hundred and fifty years of photos of us and my actual age surprises you?”

“Well yeah, especially considering you’re the baby.”

“I am not the baby.” Booker glares at Copley without heat.

“Right. Right, it’s Nile. You’ve definitely got middle kid syndrome.”

“I resent that.”

Copley shrugs and it’s such an odd thing for him to do that Booker smiles. 

“Forty two.” Booker says unprompted. 

“Huh?”

“I’m forty two, give or take a few years.” 

Copley turns his head to the side like he’s studying Booker and likes what he finds. “I’m forty three.”

“I know.” 

Copley rolls his eyes. “So how did you die?”

“The first time?”

Copley nods and Booker thinks about telling him the glorified version of the truth or the actual truth and finds that he actually wants to tell him.

“Army deserter, fighting with Napoleon.”

“Huh?”

“What?” 

“Nothing, just don’t see you as an army guy.”

“It was the thing to do.”

Copley raises an eyebrow at him and Booker sighs. 

“Alright fine, I was a forger, got caught, sent to war…”

“Booker.”

Booker shakes his head. “It wasn’t the last time I saw my family, although...”

“Family?”

“Wife, three sons.” Booker spins his wedding ring, watching as Copley’s eyes follow the movement. 

“I never…”

“My youngest son died at forty two, cancer. I can still remember everything he said to me, screaming that I wouldn’t share my gift with him to help him.”

Booker startles as Copley’s hand comes down on top of his own, squeezing tightly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Booker turns his hand over in a moment of bravery and squeezes back.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Copley sits back for a moment, seemingly contemplating something, then shakes his head as he gets up to grab a binder on his desk.

“What are you?” 

“Here.”

Copley places the binder down on the table and Booker looks at it like it might bite him.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Booker opens it and sees pages of photos of himself. The photos that should be on the wall with the others.

“So you did have photos of me?”

“Just those and the few that are already on the wall. You’ve been with them a long time.”

“Not that long.”

“Longer than most people will ever get.”

Booker nods at that, thinking back to the time he had with his family, the time Copley had with his wife. It makes his heart hurt, when he thinks about everything he’s done.

“If I had your names I could find more.”

“Sébastien.”

“What?”

“My name, it’s Sébastien Le Livre.”

Copley smiles and the way it lights up his whole face is beautiful. The thought stops Booker’s heart for a moment, but then he lets it wash over him. For once, his attraction to someone else doesn’t feel like a betrayal.

“Booker makes sense now.” Copley smirks. “Although I think I like Sébastien better.”

Yeah, this man is going to be the death of him.

~~~

Booker should really admit that he’s not leaving Copley’s house. They’ve traveled to a few places and Booker’s taken a couple of solo jobs and gone to some of his safe houses to get some of his things but it’s been three months of him living with Copley and helping him with the team's jobs and he can feel himself slipping into a dangerous normalcy. 

You can also cut the tension between them with a knife. Booker doesn’t think he’s ever wanted someone as badly as he wants James Copley, but here he is three months into the first solid home he’s had in over two hundred years, and all he wants is Copley. 

Which is to say, he’s a little miserable. He can’t mess this up. He can’t mess up the one friendship that’s become as vital to him as breathing, he can’t mess up the chance to help his family, even if they don’t know it, and he can’t mess up the chance to spend at least some of his hundred year exile with this man. 

Booker’s trying to figure out how to at least see if Copley’s interested in maybe making their relationship something more when he hears a loud crash from the kitchen. 

“Shit.”

“You okay?” Booker looks around at the mess in the kitchen, a little shocked to see any part of the house in such disarray. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was looking for something.”

“What?”

“A cookbook. My wife’s.”

Booker’s heart seizes at the mention of Copley’s wife. It’s not that they haven’t talked about her, hell Booker’s seen more pictures of her than he’s ever seen of another person, but something twists in his gut, burning hot like jealousy, and he hates it. 

“What were you trying to cook?”

“Huh?” Copley’s looking around frantically and not really paying attention and Booker puts his hand on his arm to stop him.

“James.”

Copley looks at him and visibly relaxes as Booker bends down to look in the cabinet Copley was cleaning out. 

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Booker finds what he thinks Copley is looking for and stands up to hand him a small book that has pretty cursive writing on the front.

“Here.”

Booker looks into Copley’s eyes as he takes the book. Their hands brush and Booker swears the butterflies he feels make him feel like a teenager again, which is honestly impressive. 

“Sébastien.” Copley says in his infuriatingly elegant accent and Booker feels himself moving closer, so close that he can feel Copley’s breath against his own lips. 

It only takes a second, and then Booker is surging forward and kissing Copley, who drops the book and wraps his hands around Booker’s waist. 

Booker reluctantly breaks the kiss when the need to breathe becomes too much. He looks into Copley’s eyes and is pleased to see a similar look of want reflected back at him. 

“What are we doing?” Copley whispers as Booker presses up against him and pushes them into the counter. 

“Whatever you want.” 

Copley takes that as an invitation and he surges forward, Booker grabbing onto his hips to stop the momentum as he feels Copley’s tongue seek entrance into his mouth.

Booker gets so lost in the kiss, so lost in pulling Copley’s shirt from his pants and undoing the buttons to his shirt that he’s pretty sure he’s never been kissed like this before, and that’s saying something. 

Before Booker gets what he really wants, which is Copley somewhere horizontal, Copley breaks the kiss with a shout.

“Shit.”

“What happened?” Booker’s looking frantically at Copley. “James!” 

“Cut myself.” Copley looks at him as he pulls his hand in front of him to show the bleeding the knife that was on the counter behind Booker caused. 

Booker helps him bring his hand under the water as he grabs a towel. As soon as the blood washes away Booker turns his hand over looking for the cut and doesn’t see any.

“Where’d you cut your hand?”

“I, I don’t know.” Copley’s looking at his hand like he’s never seen it before and Booker doesn’t think, he just grabs the knife and slices Copley’s hand again and then his own.

“Sébastien!”

“Just look.” Booker wipes the blood away from his own hand and Copley’s and places them next to each other as they watch both wounds heal. 

“Holy shit.”

“Does this mean?”

“I don’t know what it means. Usually a person has to die for us to figure it out.”

“Uhh, about that.”

“We can deal with this later?”

Booker leans in closer to Copley and kisses him again, magically healing immortal hands long forgotten.

~~~

Except, not so forgotten, when Copley shoots awake in the middle of the night, grabbing his head and nearly throwing Booker out of bed.

“James?” 

“Sorry, nightmare.” Copley looks over at him and then turns on the light and Booker can see the worry lines on his face.

“Tell me.” Booker says as he reaches up to cup Copley’s cheek as Copley leans into him. 

“It was nothing.” Copley shakes his head as he scoots closer to Booker. “The team.”

“What about the team?” 

“Nothing, probably just nerves for the next job.”

“James. Tell me what you saw.” 

Copley sighs as he lays back down and Booker hooks his leg over Copley’s as he waits for him to speak.

“I don’t want…”

“I’ll be fine.” Booker says as he leans in to kiss Copley. “Tell me.”

“Andy and Nile were training, Joe was sketching something and Nicky was cooking.” 

“Shit.” Booker lays back down and rubs his hands over his eyes. “We dream each other.”

“We?”

“When there’s a new immortal.”

“So you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. This hasn’t happened before.”

Booker looks over at Copley and sees that his eyes have gone wide and he has a panicked expression in his face. 

“Hey.” Booker turns on his side so he can pull Copley closer. “We’ll figure this out.”

Copley nods just as his phone starts ringing. They both jump at the noise as Copley shows him the caller is Andy. 

Booker tries not to listen but it’s kinda hard when he’s hugging Copley and he misses the sound of Andy’s voice.

“They’ll be here tomorrow.” Copley says as he drops his phone on the nightstand.

“Alright. I can get out of your hair.”

“What? Sébastien, no.”

“I’m not supposed to see them. Hell, I’m probably not supposed to even be speaking to you.”

“Sébastien.” Copley runs his fingers through Booker’s hair. “This is your home. I want you to be here.” 

Booker can’t help it, he kisses Copley like he’s never going to be able to again, as he reaches over and turns off the light. 

~~~ 

Morning comes all too soon and Booker hates it. This sanctuary he’s built, his home, according to James, is about to be overcome with people who hate him.

“I can meet them somewhere else.” Copley says as if he can read Booker’s mind. Wouldn’t that be something. 

“No. They’re probably almost here anyways.” Booker would know, as he broke his own vow and tracked them, just so he knew how much time he’d need to prepare.

“Do I even want to know?”

“No.” Booker smiles and Copley leans down to kiss him just as the doorbell rings. 

Booker holds tighter to his coffee cup as Copley lets them in and for the first time in almost a year he’s looking directly at Nile, Andy, Joe, and Nicky.

“Booker!” Nile says delightedly as she practically skips over to hug him. He sinks into the hug, grateful to at least not have burned this bridge.

“Hey, Nile.”

Nile pulls back and Booker looks over to Andy, who looks the same, if not well rested, and he hugs her, too.

“Book.” 

Book squeezes her again as he steps back. Booker looks at Joe and Nicky, who stand formidable and together but with their heads tilted to the side like they’re trying to figure something out. 

“Did you dream of Copley, too?” Nile asks him and before Booker or Copley can answer Andy gasps as she looks across the living room.

Everyone turns toward her and Booker instantly realizes what she’s looking at and so does Copley. It’s Booker’s copy of Don Quixote that Andy gifted him last year. 

But that’s not all, no, she’s going to notice Booker’s boots by the door, his laptop on the table, his sunglasses and motorcycle helmet on the shelf. It looks like he lives here, because he does. 

“You didn’t just get here today, did you?” Joe asks him as Andy looks at him smiling. 

“No.” Copley answers as he comes up to Booker and places a hand on the small of his back. 

Booker can’t help it, he leans into the touch and turns towards Copley to give him a small smile. 

Booker chances a look back at the others and feels warm at the sight of Nile, Andy, Joe, and Nicky all smiling at him. 

Nicky walks over to him and pulls both Booker and Copley into a quick hug. 

“It’s destiny.”

[maghrib-genova]

Anyone? Anyone at all, I want to talk about Booker's voice here. The way he speaks to Copley, I have feelinggggggssss

[themoonwheniamlost]

So let's say you're writing about Copley.

Let's say you've shipped him with one of our immortals, and now you're writing about his death. Whether that's death from violence, aging, or illness. (Just to clarify, I'm writing this not as a call out, but because I've seen this floating around the web.)

I would ask that if you're going to write about this scenario, that you please be mindful of the trauma that surrounds Black communities around the deaths of our men.

This is an extremely sensitive and relevant topic in our communities today. I am not going to list off the specifics, but if you look around I hope that you will be able to see some real life situations, that might explain our complex positionality on this... Anyway.

Please when writing about this topic,

1. Be mindful and try to tag accordingly.

2. Try and see if you can reach out to an informed ally, to do a sensitivity reading/look over the fic.

3. Please really look into what your motivations are to write about Blackness in this way. Why is Black pain something you are willing to theorize or *explore?*

Okay? Okay.

Thank you have a nice day.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Hey! What's up?

Here I am, once again, to take advantage of your kindness.

You informed us that for The Old Guard you would only be writing OT3 stories. This prompt is... kinda that. I apologize in advance for any bother.

I was wondering if you could expand on the dynamics of your story "The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun". As in, present Booker/Copley and past Booker/Joe/Nicky.

So: Joe and Nicky give Copley the shovel talk on behalf of their ex/brother, complete with showing off their ancient weapons. They absolutely plan to pick things back up with Booker in a few decades, once Copley is gone and they can lift the exile early fully, with Booker in a better place mentally than he was when he betrayed them.

And maybe they also hold Copley partially responsible for taking advantage of their desperate friend?

Meanwhile, Booker is blissfully unaware of the tension during their family dinner, making heart eyes at Copley from across the table - Joe and Nicky insisted on sitting each on his side - and just happy that everyone is getting along.

Andy probably makes a joke about the value of protecting the virtue of a 250 year old man who already fathered four children.

Bonus for Joe sharpening his sword for no specific reason and Nicky doing the "I'm-cutting-your-head-off" gesture at Copley, who is sweating a bit too much for the weather.

Anyway, just something along these lines. Thank you for reading. I'm sorry for the size and appreciate you considering filling it. Bye!

A/N: this was... a very long, very detailed prompt... 😅 wasn’t much wriggle room for me to put my own stamp and I threw out three different drafts before I settled on this one. Also, I think you meant three children? Enjoy 😬

—

Patience is a virtue. Patience was what got him and Nicky to where they are today, and patience is what will help him cope with the sight of Booker and Copley smiling at each other in that secret, small way that only comes with lovers that have a secret shared between only themselves will have. 

It would be horribly petty to call this their honeymoon phase, but Joe knows Booker and thinks he knows enough of Copley to understand that they are men who love with everything they have in them. This is about as much a honeymoon phase, as Nicky and himself have been in the centuries they’ve been together. And he would never do that.

Nicky’s hand on his thigh draws him back to his beloved’s eyes and he tilts his head with a curl of his lips to slide their hands together. I’m fine, he says with a slow blink. 

The truth is, he is. 

He is fine with them, right now, sitting at the dining table in Copley’s kitchen and sharing a meal that they’d all cooked together. He is fine with laughing along with Andy sharing stories about their exploits through the years, he’s okay with how as the evening wears on, Booker and Copley melt against each other’s sides in the same way Joe used to with Booker and Nicky after good food, good wine, and good company.

They had years for that and now they will have years for more, only now it will take a different shade of love.

Joe can live with how Booker looks unburdened when Copley leans in to whisper some sweet nothing in his ear. He can learn to bear the staccato beating of his heart at how his side not pressed to the warmth of Nicky’s body feels absent and too cold.

No one at their table notices his sorrow and Joe doesn’t think Nicky understands half of it even if he grieves and longs in his own way. He will keep this in him for as long as he can. 

For now, he will sit at this table and every table from here on out. Joe will bear witness to Booker and Copley’s love and he will protect it, guard it. He will do his best to be the brother and friend Booker needed. He will teach his heart to love more, listen more, see more. Copley is mortal and one day Booker will need a safe harbour for his grief again. Joe is determined to do better this time.

Patience is a virtue, after all.

[headcanonthings]

Copley: Did you not see that I was flirting with you at all?

Booker: To be fair, you are very hard to read.

Copley: It’s been four years!

[sicktransitgloria]

Give me all the Booker/Copley content please and thank you.

Give me Copley being the one to check on Booker in Paris. Give me Copley finding Booker jobs he can do solo to give him some purpose. Give me Booker and Copley bonding over Well That Didn’t Turn Out How I Pictured It Not Even Close. Give me The Old Guard using Copley’s skills but not really interacting with him beyond that because they have other shit going on but Booker will sit and hang with Copley for however long and they’re both slightly surprised but so happy that the other person stays past the necessary communication and a drink turns into a meal turns back into drinks until they’re talking late into the night. Give me Copley and Booker talking about their grief and the good memories and the bad memories. Give me Booker and Copley starting to spend time together for no particular reason, just because the other person is easy to be with. Give me Copley afraid that he’s only interesting to Booker because the other immortals won’t talk to him, and Booker afraid because he has feelings for a mortal and that has to mean heartbreak for him eventually. Give me Booker telling Copley that he’ll come to hate him for not being able to share his immortality and Copley shutting that bullshit down because he has no illusions and he’s never been interested in immortality, only relief of suffering, and he knows more than anything that something being impermanent doesn’t make it not worth having.

Give me the angst, give me the fluff, give me two people who need each other so badly and who are uniquely situated to help the other one heal and grow. Just give me all the Booker/Copley.

[teentitantruefriend]

How did you manage to describe my exact headcanon for Booker/Joe/Nicky and present Booker/Copley ? Are you spying on my thoughts? 😂

I love that dynamic haha (also I’m a lowkey - no HIGHKEY - Booker/Copley shipper in my spare time that I’m not shipping the OT3)

I just... It makes sense.

OT3 rules my heart, but Bopley has some really sweet potential. I do think that they could help each other become better people.

For example, Joe says: "You better treat him right, or else. Also, make sure to give him plenty of cuddles, he gets nightmares." And Nicky: "This is a list of his favorite movies. And remember, my sword is always sharp."

And Copley is just there taking notes and fearing for his life. Blissfully ignorant Booker is making Nile coffee and Andy is getting too old for this drama, but Quynh finds it hilarious.

I need a fic like this, like burning.

(*Slides bribery towards you. I just love your smut, okay? All Day Long was perfect)

Thank you very much for the ask!

[ririsasy]

College AU where all the old guard is just this cool bunch group of professors and Nile is the new student and Copley is studying for his doctorate degree in that university as well and Merrick is this annoying dckhead genius who thinks he knows more than all this professor and he has this one harmful agenda and these professor is trying to stop him from realizing his plan. Nile is in the same class with merrick, Copley is just too obsessed with his research and secretly also researching the real background of his professors.

(Also of course Professor Nicky has a rumor to be dating Professor Joe and it's not a secret that Professor Andy is married to Professor Quynh and Copley is secretly has a feeling for his assigned Professor, Prof. Booker)

/

[This is a silent plea from me to the author out there to write the college AU]

[alkaysani-archived]

“I’m happy for you, Yusuf,” Booker says, because he means it despite the ache, and Joe smiles, nodding, and he’s smiling in a way that makes his heart hurt even more.

“We love you, Booker,” Joe says because he’s just that person, before driving off as Booker makes his way up to his apartment, steps feeling like lead.

He makes the point to check the mail, and he’s not even sure why. He’s never checked mail before, Joe usually did. Booker pauses then, looking at the different ads he pulled out of the box after twisting the key.

So many changes already.

When he finally gets to his unit, he finds someone standing at the door. They turn when he pauses, and greets him with a smile.

“Hello Booker,” James Copley says, giving him a two-finger salute. “You haven’t aged a day.”

***

or where Booker’s best friend Yusuf moves out to be with his Nicolo, and he makes the choice to live alone for the first time in years. Booker tells himself he’ll be fine, tells everyone that he’ll be fine, even though the weight in his chest tells him otherwise. but he really has no choice. this is his life now.

then James Copley comes home.

***

written for @pekoh ❤

***

features: bopley w/ a side of joenicky,  joe & booker bffs, and nicky really giving a damn to what happens to booker