sheafrotherdon
mindful(l)
the tumblr of Cate (she/her) who likes naps, sandwiches, and many fannish things. Header art by @polarcell
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Welcome to this... random... blog
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Hi! Do you happen to have the photo of the TOG cast in Marrakesh? I remember almost all the main cast members were there, walking in the street toward the person who took the photo. Marwan’s fiancée, Nora, was there too.
I do not have it to hand, but maybe a follower does? Anyone have this photo (which I can see very clearly in my head, but that helps no one).
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I just wanna say how much I adore your short Nicky Joe Moments and fanfiction. You really understand their love and relationship 🥰
Could you write something short and sweet about them on holiday in Athens and they're just happy to be together seeing the sights? 🥹 Only if you have time and want to. Have a great day ☀️
Hi Nonnie! I will absolutely do this! It may take me a couple of days, but I will be sure to post something this week. Thank you for asking!
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Tavern
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Happy Joe x Nicky day, where we all see the moon while lost in darkness.
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The Unrecognizable Calculus of This
Art inspired by Part four of The Repair Shop AU
A humidor, a jigsaw puzzle, and a chair. A new home, an old colleague, and love.
At AO3
I cannot explain my OBSESSION with this series, @sheafrotherdon wrote it so beautifully. One of my all time favourite Joe/Nicky fics
#for the morning crew#joe x nicky#kaysanova#seanchaidh7#amazing art#the details blow me away#the fall of Andy's hair!#the repair shop AU
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I have been flailing about this in email, but LOOK AT IT! It's so stunningly beautiful - all the details it captures! I am absolutely bowled over and delirious about this beauty!!
The Unrecognizable Calculus of This
Art inspired by Part four of The Repair Shop AU
A humidor, a jigsaw puzzle, and a chair. A new home, an old colleague, and love.
At AO3
I cannot explain my OBSESSION with this series, @sheafrotherdon wrote it so beautifully. One of my all time favourite Joe/Nicky fics
#the old guard#kaysanova#yusuf x nicolo#nicolo di genova#yusuf al kaysani#tog#seanchaidh7#absolutely stunning
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“Don’t!” Joe spat, holding up a hand. “Don’t even think about …”
“Oh, so now I’m capable of thought?” Nicky asked waspishly.
“You think that’s going to work?” Joe shot back. “You think I haven’t weathered that approach since 10-fucking-99?”
Nicky tsked under his breath.
“You’re tsking me?”
Nicky sighed deeply. “You have made it clear I should not waste my words.”
“Ah. A waste. I see.” Joe shook his head and folded his arms across his chest.
Nicky hitched one shoulder nonchalantly.
“I am a waste.”
Nicky hitched his shoulder again.
“I hate when you do that,” Joe hissed.
Nicky did it one more time.
It was too much. Joe closed the gap between them and kissed Nicky fiercely, cradling his face between his hands. He kissed him with a thousand years of longing, needing, waiting, yearning; he kissed him with all the frustration their lifetime together had supplied; he kissed him and kissed him and only when Nicky shivered, head to toe, sagging against him did he stop, pulling back, panting hard, desperately, awfully, wonderfully in love with him.
Nicky watched him carefully, a familiar furrow between his eyebrows, then glanced at his watch. “As I said, less than ten minutes,” he offered.
“Goddammit,” Joe said fervently as Nicky grinned, and then Nicky laughed, and then Nicky wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tightly.
“Tesoro, how I love you,” he murmured, kissing the side of Joe’s neck. “Especially when you cannot stay angry at me. Not even for ten minutes.”
“Witchcraft,” Joe said, trying to sound grumpy, but losing the battle. “Hexes, poxes, and general sorcery.”
Nicky kissed his face and then his mouth, ran his hands up beneath the back of Joe’s shirt. “My good Yusuf,” he said with a smile. “My dearest heart.”
“You are still wrong about Shakira,” Joe said.
“I am,” Nicky conceded. “I am very wrong indeed.”
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For @polarcell
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The waiter has charcoal-smudged fingers, and Joe smiles up at him, asks what he’s been drawing. It’s quiet at the café, the late-afternoon sun running gold in the street, limning Joe’s profile and catching in his hair as he nods and grins and waggles his own ink-stained fingers. Nicky’s glad of his sunglasses, the better to stare into the sun that is his beloved and not be noticed, to study the glad tilt of his smile, the laugh lines beside his eyes. Joe is beautiful in a way that Nicky thinks he could hold in the curve of his hand—a tangible weight, a precious thing with soft edges, winking with light—or bring to his mouth and taste like fruit, like salt, like cool, sweet water. It has substance, his husband’s beauty, existing undimmed despite their years and their years and their years and their years. Nicky stirs brown sugar into his coffee and smiles when the waiter glances at him, nods his head, agrees with this stranger who doesn’t address him that yes, he is lucky.
Joe watches the waiter as he leaves and turns back to Nicky with a fond, quick smile. “Do you regret not ordering the cake?” he asks, reaching to break a corner from the pastry sitting beside his own coffee cup, popping it in his mouth and licking his finger clean of powdered sugar.
“No,” Nicky says simply and half stands, leaning just enough to reach across the table and kiss Joe on the mouth. He pulls back after a moment and watches as joy dances brightly across Joe’s face. “I’m afraid I’m very in love with you,” he whispers before he sits again.
Joe smiles, pleased, and stretches his hands above his head, high, high, his shirt riding up to show a sliver of belly. He relaxes, his body easy and loose in his chair. “I’m not afraid,” he teases, and Nicky laughs.
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I cannot believe how lucky I am to get this wonderful JoeNicky commission from the lovely @chimchiri! Seriously go commission them, they're one of the best people I've ever worked with and I feel so privileged to be able to have art from them! I'm in transports of delight! 😭💖💖💖
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Did you hear about the kind-hearted medieval warrior who was also gay and liked it rough?
Do not go gently into that good knight
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Booping you all like Joe does Nicky! 😄
Because it’s a rainy April 1st, and we’re being silly, so what better than to make some silly Joe & Nicky art. ❤️
(Obviously inspired by the epic hair & make up test)
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boop (have you eaten today? have you drank water? are you doing well? i love you. i wish you the best)
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These two live in my heart rent free
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The drive to Marrakech had been long and dusty, and by the time they reached the hotel, Joe could feel grit between his teeth and toes. He let Nicky exchange pleasantries with the front-desk clerk; he was so close to showering, and to sleeping somewhere other than the passenger seat while Nicky took his turn at the wheel, that he had no words left to offer anyone. He did some clumsy mental calculations and decided he was exactly two minutes from crawling out of his own skin when, a second later, Nicky turned toward him with two keycards in his hand, and Joe felt his shoulders drop a fraction with relief.
The suite was stunning, bursting with color and natural light. Joe barely paid attention, dropping his bags inside the door and tugging his shirt over his head as he headed directly toward the bathroom. He flipped on the shower and toed out of his boots, left the rest of his clothes in an awkward heap, and stepped beneath the spray to let out a groan of pleasure that rose up from the very soles of his feet. The water was warm, and pounded against his shoulders, and Joe lowered his chin to watch dirt and sand wash down his body and swirl into the drain. “Alhamdulillah,” he murmured gratefully.
There were bottles upon bottles of luxurious products, as well as a thick bar of sweet-smelling soap tucked into a recess in one tiled wall, and Joe used everything, multiple times, just for the sensory pleasure of his own slick hands skimming over wet skin. He altered the angle of the spray before working conditioner into his hair and then stood, body slack and heavy, patiently waiting as water sluiced down his chest. When finally he could rinse one last time and tear himself away from the pleasure of being clean, it was to pull a towel from a hook on the wall and groan again at the thickness of the weave, burying his face in it before squeezing water from his hair. He dried himself clumsily, blinked at his reflection in the mirror, then wandered into the bedroom, climbing directly into bed.
“My love,” said Nicky, turning away from the windows where he’d been enjoying the view, or scouting for sniper points, it was hard to say.
“No talking,” Joe mumbled, collapsing on the delightful mattress.
“Your hair,” Nicky offered simply. “You will regret …”
“I will regret nothing,” said Joe around a yawn so large that his eyes scrunched closed. When he opened them, it was to find Nicky leaning down toward him, and Joe clutched the sheets to his chest with one hand, and held up the other to stop Nicky from coming closer. “Do not think of kissing me right now, you filthy Frank.”
Nicky chuckled warmly and straightened. “I’ll go wash.”
“Do,” said, Joe, turning onto his side and rubbing his cheek against the pillow.
The low hum of the shower was soothing, and Joe was tired, and a ray of sunlight had pooled on the bed directly over his feet. He drifted, mind blank, not quite willing to sleep for all that he had no interest in being awake. Instead he catalogued the luxury around him—the softness of the sheets; the perfect loft of his pillow; the movement of air across his skin from the fan that circulated air in the room. He thought idly of Andy and Booker, of being reunited in the morning, and a bubble of joy rose up through his chest and made him smile.
“Is this better,” whispered Nicky some time later, the bed creaking under his weight as he slipped under the sheets behind Joe. He smelled faintly of citrus, and eased in close, wrapping arm around Joe’s torso, spreading his fingers over the rise of Joe’s belly. When Joe breathed, he could feel the reassuring pressure of Nicky’s hand.
“You smell better,” he said fondly, and Nicky hummed in agreement.
“So do you.”
Joe laughed softly, so full of affection that his heart squeezed with the force of it. “We’ll sleep a little,” he offered. “Then we’ll eat.”
“A good plan,” Nicky replied, his voice muffled from having his face pressed against Joe’s shoulder. It was quiet, and it was cool, and they were safe, and would soon be with others they loved. Joe let out a long, slow breath, and sleep took him gently, gathering he and Nicky both in tandem, coaxing them to fall.
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