Rear_Bear



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    Living with the Weasleys after the war turns out to be more challenging than Harry could ever imagine. So, when he finally finds some peace and quiet in Andromeda’s cottage, he’s not going to give it up easily. Not even if it means he’s going to have to live under the same roof as that annoying blond git. Now, if only he didn’t have to look so bloody gorgeous it might have been a little easier.

    How Shakespeare, a crossword and a sleeping baby can turn enemies into friends, and maybe even friends into lovers.

    Drarry Award Nominee for Best Fic 2019 and Best Fic By A New Writer 2019.

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    07 Dec 2021

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    Bucky starts to believe in a vengeful god on May the twelfth, year of our Lord two thousand and fucking eighteen, because that’s the day he makes fun of Clint Barton for carrying around a dainty little packetful of tissues in his pocket and honking into them like a congested donkey every fifteen minutes. “Fucking polleb,” Clint swears, wiping at his watering eyes. “Fucking claritin. Fucking zyrtec. Fucking bastards, all of dem.”

    “What’s happened to your pokeymen now?” Bucky asks distractedly, not looking away from where Natasha is very slowly setting the last Joker on her vast, exquisitely balanced house of cards.

    “Dat’s not - dey’re not pokémon,” Clint says, aggrieved. “Dey’re drugs. And dey don’t work for me.”

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    07 Dec 2021

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