#i mean bc she realized that laurie was going to ask her to marry him and thought beth liked him;; TWO BIRDs! ONE STONE! MARRY EACH OTHER!

[sapphroditewrites]

Bishova Drabble #1

(a/n) i originally wrote this on twitter bc my friend @laurie-bishop​ came up w a good au idea SO im moving it to here thank u very much && i will be writing longer, ramblier versions of my bishova nonsense on here from now on xx

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Angst; childhood-lovers-to-adulthood-tragedy; mentions of homophobia; not technically forced marriage but like, kate is gay and doesn’t wanna marry a man but does it anyway; no happy ending

They meet in second grade. Yelena is new to the city, and Kate is drawn to her in the way we’re all drawn to our childhood crushes before we understand them. Yelena is a little… harsher than most would like, but Kate’s too sweet for her own good.

In short: they’re a perfect match. They share their first kiss in the summer between fifth and sixth grade in the playground tubes, nervous and tasting like warm Coca-Cola. Kate’s family isn’t religious, exactly, but she can feel that there’s something inherently wrong with what they’ve done. And Yelena, sensing Kate’s anxiety about the whole thing, decides to never bring it up again. But she feels something has shifted between them. A precarious line has been crossed.

 They don’t date until freshman year.

It just sort of… happens. No big dramatic build up, but a slow realization. Neither have pursued, or been pursued, by any of their peers and if they have, they fade from memory as quickly as they’d come. 

One day, as they’re snuggled up on Yelena’s bed, watching Netflix and talking about the future, Yelena asks, “Kate, are we dating?” 

 And with a soft laugh Kate says, “Yeah, I guess we are.”

And it’s perfect. Really, if it wasn’t for Kate’s fear of her mother finding out, their relationship would be nothing short of perfect. Nothing changes much from their friendship; nothing substantial. They were already touchy in public, what’s adding a bit more behind closed doors? Sometimes, the secrecy is thrilling. Sometimes, Yelena just wants Kate to stand the fuck up for herself.  The cracks begin to show by senior year.

“My mom has had my whole education planned out since I was in the womb Yelena, I can’t just go back on it because-”  “Because she doesn’t accept you for who you are? What happened to the brave girl I fell in love with? When did you become such a coward?” 

They say a lot of things they don’t mean. They make up in the end, through tears and delicate promises of forever and in the future. 

The arguments are put on pause as graduation rolls around. But the tension is there. Unspoken, but violently brewing. A storm waiting to be unleashed. Summer is when it hits.

Yelena makes the choice clear. Be honest, and open, about their relationship and herself, or Kate can lose Yelena forever. Kate chooses wrong.

The first two and a half years are hell. For both of them. Yelena comes out to her family, spends half her college years so wasted she almost forgets Kate. Almost. (And so what, if all the girls she brings home are tall and brunette?)

Kate has a harder time adjusting. She becomes reclusive, devotes herself to her studies in a way she hadn’t before. She still does archery, sure, but she feels empty every time she finds another face in Yelena’s spot on the bleachers.

After college, Yelena tries to date again. Tries. She knows it’s pointless though. She already met her person, her One, and she lost her. Kate takes on work at her moms company, is achingly close to getting her CEO position.

Except there’s a hitch. Her mom wants her to be married. To “settle down” — as if Kate has ever once dated (since Yelena). It’s easy to ignore this expectation for a while. Long enough Kate almost forgets about it.

But then her mom begins to talk about stepping down. Kate thinks it’s too early. Eleanor ignores her in favor of introducing her to some random boy. Kate comes up with some excuse to not like him. Eleanor finds another. Kate scares him off.

They go through this process nearly a dozen times before Kate resigns herself to it. And he’s nice, really. He’s… fine. Agreeable, kind of handsome if Kate squints right. Eleanor loves him. So maybe Kate can learn to.

She doesn’t, by the time he proposes. She knows she never will. There’s only one person she’ll ever love like that, ever want to marry. But she made her choice over ten years ago. There’s no going back.

When Yelena hears about the wedding, she’s booked a flight to NYC before Natasha can even realize she’s called out of work. She even wears a dress she designed herself, hoping that at least that might catch Kate’s eye and change her mind.

As their eyes meet, across the room, time doesn’t stand still. It comes to an abrupt and violent halt, the very air from their lungs snatched clean away. Then time moves again. And Eleanor is scolding Kate for ruining her makeup. Kate is scolding herself for ruining her life.

[thisbrilliantsky]

listen i kno louisa may wasnt as woke as she thought she was and didnt unpack ANYTHIng about racism but yall WE can

[laurieteddy]

good company | amy march 

description: where amy shares her true feelings and 

request: “Could you write a Amy March x fem reader ? Maybe something like reader is a model for Amy’s painting classes and Amy falls in love while painting her and so she pursues the reader?” 

warnings: light angst in one part, and mentions of homophobia bc of the time period

word count: ~3,650

a/n: so, so, so sorry this tool me so long!! requests just always seem to... i hope you like it! also, the painting classes part was sort of small, sorry!!

---

This wasn’t what Amy had expected when she thought of what would happen in her art classes. Of course she knew she would be painting live models, that much was obvious, but she hadn’t even imagined that she would fall for any of them. The models were there to do their job, and the artists were there to paint them. It was as simple as that, or was supposed to be. 

When you came in, though, it changed things.

It wasn’t as if it was like “love at first sight” which a younger version of Amy would’ve believed in more. Though, as time passed she seemed to only admire you more and more. You held yourself so delicately yet seemed so carefree when talking to others before a session began. She had observed you closely from the first day she met you, which could be shrugged off in the beginning because you were the subject she was painting, of course she was observing you. 

Amy shook it off as long as she could, it was completely new to her. Sure, she had feelings for Laurie at a younger age, a lot of people tend to have a crush at some point in their lives. But you were a woman, this changed everything. She told herself she was infatuated because you were the model, you were of her interest because you were the subject she had to focus on. But it felt like more than that. It felt, to her, similar to the feelings she had toward Laurie those few years ago.

The two of you had spoken quite a few times, before and after classes and sometimes during breaks if there were any. You had noticed her gaze always seemed to be following you, which you would tease her about on occasion. Amy always seemed to have a smile accompanied with a blush when she talked to you, she couldn’t help it. In times where you might poke fun at her you would earn a deeper shade of red from her cheeks.

She was glad to be able to talk to you. You reminded her of home in ways, being so carefree but at the same time you were careful to pay mind to your surroundings. You would both tell each other stories of your homes and families, your hopes and dreams even if they were silly, you would talk about anything just to have a conversation. Conversations you shared never seemed to be dry, even if you were only talking about the weather, because it was just nice to be talking to each other.

You were glad to have met Amy, finding yourself naturally drawn to her. It became a nearly daily routine to spend at least an hour of your time with one another, finding company outside of classes too now. You were more familiar with the area and so Amy took advantage of this to have you show her around. On top of that, while she fit in with most crowds just fine, she preferred your company over most other’s there, especially Aunt March.

“How’ve you never had a pickled lime?!” Amy laughed as she looked at you with furrowed brows.

“I’m not sure,” you shrugged. “I guess they just aren’t as popular where I’m from.”

“They should be,” she grinned. “You know, I actually got in trouble at school for having them. That was my last day of school there, it was a dreadful place from the start.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, it didn’t sound in character for Amy to get into trouble for something so foolish. Then again, you didn’t know her at that age. Her aunt certainly seemed to think she had drastically changed though. And if you looked close you could see a more “rebellious” side of Amy. For the most part she tried her best to be proper, still allowing herself to relax though but doing so less and less it seemed.

“Why would you even get in trouble for simply having them with you?” You connected your arm with her’s as you walked through a garden. 

“Well, we would trade them and the teacher decided to put an end to it, it did nothing though. I was in debt so my sister gave me money and I was able to buy enough to repay people.” She sheepishly said, “I brought a whole bundle to school but I was too obvious with them.”

“You’re trying to tell me that you, Amy March, actually broke rules and got into trouble at school?”

“I’m not trying, I am telling you,” she laughed. “It wasn’t worth the cost though. I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Ah, there we go. That sounds more like you,” you grinned and leaned against her arm.

She smiled, shaking her head at your response. Then she realized, she had grown quite a bit in what seemed like no time at all. Or, at least, she had matured plenty. It was weird to actually consider how much had changed. It made her wonder, had you changed from childhood or were you always so outspoken?

“What about you?” She glanced over, “Tell me a story from your childhood?”

You paused to think, deciding on what story you should tell her. When you thought about it most of the stories seemed to be about the same. While Amy seemed to be more outgoing in school and through childhood, you seemed more reserved. Now, though, your personalities seemed to, in small ways, flip and become the opposite of what they were.

“I didn’t talk to many kids at school,” you began, “I had one close friend, who I haven’t talked to since then. I didn’t have the same interests as the other students seemed to have, didn’t hurt me any though.”

“Well, you do seem to have found a fairly large and worthy friend group now.” Amy locked arms with you.

“I wouldn’t say large, but I thoroughly enjoy their company. I’ve found more people to relate to in my adulthood than I ever did through school.” You raised your brows, “Now, that isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy at least parts of my childhood.”

“Oh?” She questioned, “Would you share more, then?”

You smiled at her, nodding gently before telling her about another bit of your childhood. Amy listened closely, nodding every once and awhile to assure you that you had her attention. You didn’t talk about your past much, and she was always curious to learn more about you.

For hours you walked together, eventually stopping to sit on a bench by a pond. Amy was still asking you questions about yourself and would occasionally share some stories of her own. While you had been doing this for days now, talking hours on end with one another, neither of you were growing tired of it. If anything, you both couldn’t wait for the next time you would get to chat. 

Recently you were finding yourselves at a lack of time spent together. Amy was talking to a man, one that was sure to propose to her soon. He could offer her money, a well enough life, just material things that Amy recalled dreaming of having when she was younger. But, she didn’t find herself too interested in him. While he was easy enough to get along with, it wasn’t exactly all she was looking for in a relationship. Then again, that wasn’t really the point of marrying him, as Aunt March would remind her.

“Won’t we talk tomorrow?” You asked, already knowing her answer.

“You know I’ll do everything I can to make the time.” She smiled sadly, “I have plans with Mr. Vaughn tomorrow.”

You could feel your heart clenching, a pain you were growing used to. Fred Vaughn, of course. Never would you dare to say anything against him, he wasn’t a bad man and you knew Amy was only doing what she must. Still, it would be a lie to say it didn’t sting a bit when she had to leave you for him. Maybe the fact that he was a good man only made it worse too. There was no real reason to have anything against, that’s what all of your friends had said.

“Don’t worry yourself too much over it,” you smiled, “we always find the time eventually. Mr. Vaughn makes good company as well, I think you’ll find yourself losing track of time with him.”

“Hmm, I disagree.” She continued walking slowly, “While Fred is good company, my mind doesn’t seem to stay focused on him even if it’s only the two of us. He is a very nice man, but…”

Amy wasn’t really sure what she was about to say. It was all true, she did find Fred to be a kind man and good company, but there was still something that Amy didn’t quite mind about having to spend time with him. She figured at first it was just the idea of actually becoming a married woman, losing all that was hers really. And, yes, that was still a part of it but there was more that she couldn’t place. Or, well… she didn’t want to think about it.

“What is it?” You reached for her hand, gently pulling her to a stop.

She didn’t turn to face you, she wasn’t sure that she could. There were too many thoughts to gather, too many words to say. Where to begin? And where would it end? 

“Sometimes I just wonder if I actually like Fred or if I just like the convenience of him,” she admitted. “Like I said, he is a very nice man but I don’t know that I can see him in the way Aunt March wants me to.”

“What do you mean?” You already knew, and you knew there would come a time when this would happen, when you might lose her.

“We’re expecting him to propose.” She looked at you, “And Aunt March expects me to say yes.”

You tilted your head, “Will you?”

Amy gently pulled her hand from your grip, looking to the ground. She didn’t know her answer to that. She didn’t want to say yes, not really. It was giving her life away, but at the same time it was a promise of a, at the very least, decent marriage. Fred made good company, but he wasn’t who Amy pictured spending her life with.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Your tone was a bit sour, you were hurt by the idea that she may say yes.

“I just don’t know.” She took a deep breath, “I don’t know that marrying him is what I want to do but I need it’s… It is just what I need to do.”

“What you ‘need’ to do?” you scoffed. “Amy, if you don’t want to be with him then it isn’t what you ‘need’ to do.”

“It is though. For my family, for my future. And if I ever wish to have children it would be good support for them.” She took a step away from you, looking over the horizon. “I may not think it wise to marry him today but I can’t think about just today, y/n.”

You weren’t sure why there was this anger growing in you, if it even was anger. You supposed it was because, as you had thought before, you didn’t want to lose her. Marrying Fred Vaughn would mean she would have to go. She would lose everything that made her life her own, now and in her future. To you, it didn’t seem worth the cost. Amy seemed so happy where she was. 

“Life isn’t just about money, Amy. It’s about happiness, what brings you joy. And a life with Fred Vaughn? What else can he offer but money?” You moved in front of her, a pleading look in your eyes.

“Stability. Help for Beth. A promise that I have at least some sort of good future.” 

“You keep saying that, “good future”. What do you mean by that? What is a good future to you?” Part of you knew you were likely overstepping but you were so frustrated, and you truly didn’t want Amy doing something she didn’t want to do.

“I mean,” she paused to think for a moment. “I’m not doing this. I’m not having this conversation with you, why do you even care so much?” 

Another stinging went through you. How could she ask that? Wasn’t it clear how much she meant to you?

“I don’t know,” you snapped.

Amy was taken aback, that wasn’t what she thought you’d say. She was expecting a list of reasons, a speech about how marrying Vaughn was the wrong choice. She thought you’d be ready to fight back. It wasn’t that she wanted to fight, she wasn’t even sure how it built up to where it was. You were both just becoming more and more defensive. 

You both stood in silence for a few moments, taking in all of your new thoughts and uprising feelings. You knew it wasn’t so simple for her to just decide not to marry Vaughn. Amy had a lot to consider on the matter, too much for your or her liking. There was just this piece of you that wanted to be selfish though, to hold Amy close by your side and keep her for yourself. But you… you had nothing of “value” to your name. No money, no land, no name to pass along. No name to pass along. That was, you couldn’t marry. It was an entirely different topic on its own.

Two women marrying? It wasn’t something people would even talk of, let alone something that could happen in the time. Even being together, in any form, was frowned on by most. 

This was likely, whether she realized it or not, Amy was pushing back the idea of having even the slightest feelings for you. Her family wouldn’t care, at least her sisters and parents wouldn’t. She wasn’t sure what Aunt March would think, though she didn’t know what that mattered to her either. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about what all of those around her would think, it was an overwhelming thing for her. Amy saw herself as a people pleaser, though when she was younger it may have not always seemed that way. 

Nothing about it was easy. 

“I don’t have the luxury of being so carefree,” she began. “I know, too, that it isn’t always a luxury for you. I recognize your past was complicated but…” she took a breath in, “that doesn’t make mine any less so either.”

“I know,” you whispered, “I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to attack you like that.”

She nodded meekly, unsure of where to go from here. Now was the perfect opportunity to talk through everything running wild in her head, she wondered if you could offer some answers. Was it worth the risk of her potentially becoming so vulnerable? She would find out.

“Do you remember the first day you came in to model for my class?” Amy smiled at the memory, and out of relief for a change in subject.

“Of course,” you chuckled awkwardly. “You seemed so nervous, more than many of the others.”

Her cheeks tinted red. As she ducked to hide it she let out a soft titter, “I was. The class was so intimidating in the start on its own, and then you walked in.”

You frowned a bit, worried the story might turn negative given your previous conversation. Amy noticed, being quick to reassure you with a gentle smile and her hand landing on your own. 

“You walked in, laughing, letting your scarf flow behind you. Your overcoat was the complete opposite from your outfit, I remember scolding a few people for being quick to judge you on such a trivial thing. Your hair was wild, like now,” she smiled as she brushed a tuft of your hair behind your ear. 

You were blushing now. “So we’re talking about how messy I appear?” you joked.

Her brows furrowed, “Not at all. I mean all of that to say… I couldn’t believe how effortlessly beautiful you were when you walked in.”

Both of you could feel your hearts pattering against your chests. For you, you thought you might be over analyzing again, if you ever had in the start that was. For Amy, she was shocked she actually worked herself up to say that. While it was simple enough, and no doubt something one could say to a friend, it was coming out in this brand new context. 

“When you came up to me after class, and you complimented my work.” She laughed, “I was at a complete loss for words. I remember being so nervous when you came up to me, I didn’t know what to say but you were so sweet. You asked me some questions, and I did my best to answer while trying to hide how… hypnotized I was. I kept thinking to myself that you would notice, that I would scare you away when you did.”

You weren’t sure what to say, you still couldn’t quite tell where the conversation was going, you were avoiding saying something you may later wish you kept private. There was also still this fear that you could be interpreting it wrong, though as she went on it seemed less and less likely that that was the case.

“I don’t want to marry Fred Vaughn,” Amy frowned and faced away. 

Her fingers were lightly tracing circles over the back of your hand, something she often found herself doing to her own hands when nervous. She didn’t exactly expect any response from you, but the silence was eating away at her as each second passed without you speaking up. Where to begin?

“So don’t.” You held her hand still between both of yours. 

It wasn’t so hostile this time, you were calm. Your tone sounded to be more suggesting rather than demanding. Amy was more willing to hear, both of you were. 

“Fred is a lovely man, perfect company… but if that isn’t who you want to marry, don’t.” You released her hand, “Status fails to matter when you find yourself at a lack of joy.”

“I’ve heard that a few times from my mother.” You often reminded Amy of home. “Meg too, and it seems to have proven itself to be true in her case. They haven’t much, but they do seem so happy with each other.”

What Amy was trying to say was so much more than what she was getting out. She hoped you might expand, understanding you were likely nervous too. A few more moments of silence seemed to last for hours, though it was more like a minute. Talking about it was hard, not as hard as she had initially believed but it was still difficult. 

“What if-- just, what if I don’t want to marry Fred because...because I don’t want to lose you?” Maybe it would be easier to be more straightforward. 

“Lose me? Amy, you could never,” you moved closer to her.

“No, I know. I know that we will always have our friendship, our memories and so on. But, what if I’m afraid of losing all of it? Our long walks, never ending talks. What if you understand me better than anyone… and I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose the feeling of holding you close,” her fingers intertwined with yours. “I don’t want the butterflies in my stomach when you greet me again to leave me. I don’t want to give up our spontaneous picnics or races. I want to hold it all close to me, I want to keep you close to my heart.”

“Amy,” you couldn’t help but smile, “I mean, what about everything you had said earlier?”

“Those words were spoken out of fear, y/n. I… I’ve been afraid to say any of this to you. I thought you might run the other way, and I was terrified of what would be said had anyone found out but… I don’t care. Someone will always have something to say about me, right?”

You were thrilled to hear all of this, but at the same time there was a bit of conflict. Amy didn’t tend to be so spontaneous, you wanted to be sure she meant everything she was saying before letting yourself react too much. It didn’t feel real, how could it? 

She talked about the day you met so lovingly, and she seemed so smitten when describing you that day. It was almost like sitting back, listening as she talked about someone you had never met. It just seemed like true admiration so it was hard for you to imagine she was talking about you, not some stranger. 

“I’ve wanted to say something similar to you for some time,” you finally admitted. “I thought it was a lost hope, seeing how we all thought you’d be marrying Vaughn.”

“Ugh, enough about Vaughn, don’t you think?” She groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically with a grin on her lips.

“Absolutely,” you smiled and joked, “who knew I’d be stealing you away from him.”

“I did, the day I met you.” 

You laughed as you both continued your walk. It was getting late, neither of you had minded. You spent hours more talking, about things you had been burying for too long and about how things would be changing. It was getting easier to talk about, and you’d catch yourselves tossing in random jokes from time to time to keep the atmosphere cool. 

Aunt March wouldn’t be happy to hear the news, Amy didn’t care any longer though. Really, it was the last thing on her mind then. She was happy to just be walking with you.

[ziracona]

Dwight/Jake wedding headcanons maybe? They deserve it.

For sure!

It’s a couple years down the road. They’ve been living in the Indiana house with Adam, while the others orbit in and out from Springwood and Lockport and Haddonfield and Indianapolis and Bloomington and New Jersey and Missouri and New York and such every few days. It’s peaceful and fun there for them. Woods, big house, familiar smells and people and memorobelia and Ron’s grave and markers added nearby for Vigo and Alex and Lisa and Sujan and the person from the lab with no name and the survivors who came before them and never got to be buried. It’s home. They’re just chilling, Dwight and Jake talking with intent but also very relaxed about something while Adam edits a sequel in his easy chair, deep in edit mode, when Jake calls over, “Hey Adam, do you want to be a best man, or do you want to marry us?”

Which Adam hears the wrong homophone for for a second and almost takes him out before he realizes they meant the other version of ‘marry’ and remembers how to breathe again.

He stutters out a, “Well, I, uh—I mean, I can do whichever you’d prefer, but I’m not ordained. In. Anything. I know I did Min and Nea’s, but—”

“—Yeah, we know, but we just need it to be legal,” Jake shrugs, “and we don’t want a stranger at the wedding period, so someone’s getting ordained.”

“I think you can get ordained online in like an hour,” adds Dwight helpfully, “and we’re not religious either, but—and now that I’m saying this it was Meg so that means I should make sure becuase sometimes her memory for numbers is uhhh bad, but she told me like a week ago you only need ten people to officially get your new religion recognized. And we could be ‘the survivors’ or something. I don’t know I believe in much, but I believe in that.”

Jake nods. “Whatever is true, this group of people can rip a hole in the fabric of the universe for each other. I’d ascribe to that.”

“I kind of like that,” says Adam, “I would too. But if we have a spiritual ‘leader’, wouldn’t Ace be a better choice than me? Or Jane?”

This is considered a good point and they debate between Adam, Jeff, Tapp, Jane, and Ace for a bit, [Philip is also briefly considered, but they realize just as fast he’d be overwhelmed and stressed by having to do it & mercifully swap him to another role], then decide on Ace, who’s always been the kind of...not exactly dad, not exactly uncle, but not not those things, and certainly some kind of an early spiritual or morale core for them, parentish figure, and a comfort and hope leader for them all. Also, they know he’ll get a fkn kick out of being ordained for this.

Dwight takes Quentin as his Best Man, Claudette his Maid of Honor, and Jake takes Nea as Matron of Honor, Andrew as Best Man, and Meg as Maid of Honor. They decide fuck it, and it’s kinda Parks & Rec (an argument used by and against Jake many times the next few weeks) anyway, and also both take Adam and Philip as Best Men because fuck it, it’s too hard and also wedding rules are arbitrary and made to be broken, and so then Jake adds Kate as a bridesmaid, Dwight adds Laurie, they realize the number of survivors is dwindling dangerously and decide fuck it, our wedding is for us might as well be fkn weird and cool, and add David, Min, Tapp, Jane, Jeff, and Laurie as groomsmen and bridesmaids too. This still leaves Michael, Anna, Sally, Benedict, Susie, Jeff’s three Legion kids, and everyone’s families which is like fkn a lot of people, to be audience party (sans Nancy, who is pleaded with to be wedding party and run the music pre-reception because the number of people that they want involved /and/ who won’t give in to or be tricked by Meg into some kind of terrible flash mob stunt is very small, and in fact, basically is just Nancy. She is happy to do it and thinks their desperate reasoning is hilarious).

They break the news to Meg and Claudette and Ace first (after Adam), ask Ace to marry them, and tell Meg she can run post-weddding/reception music however she wants, except the songs for a couples dance & parent dances. She is /thrilled/. Claudette is very happy and cries. They call up Quentin & Nea to add to the conversation and Jake says Nea and Meg and Susie are in charge of setting up the wedding because he knows they’re gonna fight him for the role anyway, but they have to throw whatever they can together with only the stuff they own already and $50, they want only family & the other survivors/their families at the wedding, the service short and sweet, and to have it at the cabin, by the river. Meg loses her mind with indignance and joy together, and goes buckwild. They hit thrift shops for fairy lights and streamers and more.

Everyone is thrilled to be asked, Jane says “about time,” and Philip can’t think of anything to say and gets overwhelmed emotionally and taken off guard to be asked to be a groomsman. It’s sweet. Everyone with fashion sense takes everyone else shopping or through their wardrobes for fun wedding clothes and to at least have accent pieces that match a color theme. (Complimentary blues, yellow/gold, and pinks to the grooms’. More on that). It’s super fun & they make a fashion show of it. There’s no matching in form, just color, which is just the best version anyway there’s really no goddamn reason to spend thousands of bucks on a wedding when you could just have a funky cute good time with the people who love you & no stress.

Jake picks a deep blue hanbok (bc the hottest Jake I’ve ever seen is the one @eggchef did for lunar new year & the note in the tags about an actual hanbok has been banging around in my head ever since), and when they’re going through stuff for Dwight, he comments a pink one is surprisingly nice because it’s not the color he’d expected to think about, and Jake remarks offhand that if they do deep blue and pink they’ll be stealing their girls’ looks, and the second he says that, they both know there’s no other choice now. Dwight gets a light pink suit and a tie that matches Jake’s blue. They’re adorable and both look exceedingly handsome.

The wedding is short and perfect. Ace does a great job, it’s a nice day, and Meg works wonders with her $50 budget and (notably obscenely large) preexisting store of party supplies, + help from her mom who is passing down the legacy of being the best tiny budget party planner on earth. It’s very open, but with near arches and dangling glass and prisims that cast rainbows everywhere, lots of meaningfully chosen for their blessings and symbolism flowers and flower chains from Claudette. It’s a little reminiscent of the birthday decorations Min and Nea did plus the prisims, and that accidentally makes all the survivors super emotional like 1 minute in.

Only the moms get to speak in the wedding (besides Ace and the grooms), and Andrew and Meg and Nea and Quentin and such all gotta save their roasts for the reception. It’s sweet. Ace knows them super well and it shows in the best way. The grooms write their own vows, and both echo their statements in the hatch tunnel without knowing the other was going to do so too. Jake starts with an “I am deeply, unendingly, ridiculously in love with you,” and Dwight brings in a, “I wouldn’t be who I am without you.” They end it with Dwight saying, “Will you still stay with me, now that it’s all over? Through whatever we’re thrown to next?” And Jake replying, “Wherever you go, I’ll always follow.”

I cry.

The reception is a party by the house. It’s just a huge prepared buffet made by the family who can cook, so no one has to sit and wait. Meg starts the music with Cascada’s Evacuate the Dance Floor because she doesn’t “want to see people dragging their feet like a bunch of fuckin weenies, I want asses on that dance floor!” There’s a lot of 90s and early 2000s pop, but also many many classic dance songs. Lots of ABBA. Lots of it. Everyone has great fun. Min, Nea, Susie, and Meg made the playlist, except for a few of the specific dances. Muriel Fairfield’s mother-son dance with Dwight is to Song For Ten by Neil Hannon because he knows she’s a sweet big emotional nerd and it’s the song she wants, and he’s willing to do it, and she sobs and is a mess but also the happiest she’s been since the day she got the call he was alive.

They have literally zero idea where they’re going when they drive off for a honeymoon. They’re like “Uhh so I’ve been looking at our complete and utter lack of wedding structure and planning as a good thing? But we might have overstepped that a little here....”

Dwight drives while Jake searches the web for LGBT safe honeymoon locations because there’s nothing that would ruin a trip more than that not working out, and reads off a list and Dwight is like, “Wait wait holy fuck, I though you meant what US cities or maybe Canada. Switzerland? Do we even have cash for the plane fare somewhere like that?” And Jake just looks at the page silently for a few seconds, shuts the laptop, and without expression says, “...I really hate this, but I’m gonna let myself be a rich boy, just once.”

They take Andrew’s jet to New Zealand (Jake calls him and listens for 2 minutes then just monotone goes “Okay but you owe me for being a dipshit for fifteen years,” and they get the ride). Jake picks a relaxed pace and some scuba diving, some hikes, but no overnight camping. Lots of just seeing the world and holding hands and grinning at how absolutely breathless and shocked Dwight is at every chunk of nature like nothing he’s seen before. They are disgustingly, blissfully happy.