#*you is not direct ever it just got confusing saying ‘they’ for both ‘general fandom’ and ‘bubbline’

[sickgraymeat]

Here is a take. You need the context of the character outside of the relationship in order to fully appreciate the relationship, in an analytical/understanding sense. (What I mean is you can obviously enjoy it regardless) Most bubbline shippers are more drawn to Marceline’s context outside of the relationship than to Bonnie’s, which often leads to minimizing Bonnie by characterizing her as uncaring or a purely selfish partner, minimizing Marcy by characterizing her as purely a (Bonnie’s) victim who did nothing wrong, of oversimplifying the whole relationship by only acknowledging the bad parts (just the angst) OR the good parts (just the fluff). It’s really frustrating actually bc to me they’re both characters who shed a light on the complexity of the show as a whole, and when most people realize that they tend to latch onto the second layer beneath the surface so to speak— the big “reveal” that Bonnie isn’t just tea parties and smiley faces, and that Marcy isn’t just scary pranks and evil laughter.

The thing is, THIS IS NOT THE LIMIT OF THEIR COMPLEXITY. They definitely are not just those things, but they are not just “evil scientist dictator” and “depressed lost soul” either! They’re so many things, just like every other major character (and many minor ones) in the show. I see many of you getting into Bonnie’s complexities without sympathy because you think it’s cool or sexy that she’s evil or whatever, but there’s so much more to her than that. And while I’ve seen much more sympathetic introspection on Marcy’s character, it still tends to place her as the Victim with a capital V within the context of their relationship. Understandable considering we mostly see it from her side, and considering we mostly see the parts of it where it’s strained. But come on!! I know fandom is very capable of filling in blanks, but I rarely see that for Bonnie when it isn’t in service of a different character. I get that she is very withholding, but honestly so are all of them. That’s exactly what Obsidian is about, but I don’t think anyone waited for it to come out to acknowledge that Marceline was more than the series could directly show of her. So many people in fandom are willing to dig SO DEEP for interpretation, but with Bonnie, it’s like she surprised or angered or amused you so much by being 2-dimensional than you never acknowledge the dimensions beyond that. And if that’s because you don’t see them, then how are you seeing every other character’s so clearly?

[4amode]

As their fan, what do you think are Remus and Sirius’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? What are your favorite headcanons of them? Do you have any fav ships (from any fandom) that the dyanamic remind you of their ship?

P.s 1 I don't dislike Tonks, but her with Remus got together, really seem out of nowhere, right?

P.s 2 Do you have any fav fics for them?

I’ll try to answer without explicitly referring to any specific fanfiction and keep things more general, since I think it’d be reductive to tie them to particular fanfics or headcanons. This is just how I personally see the characters, so, of course, some of what I believe might not match how others view them.

_________

🐺 Remus:

I’d say Remus’ greatest strength is his empathy. He really understands people, or at least tries to, and that’s what makes him such a great teacher. He doesn’t impose his ideas on others. Rather, he guides you toward it and leaves room for discussion. He has the patience to listen to everyone’s perspective before deciding where he stands.

That’s not to say he never gets angry, but he always tries to manage it, or at least step away when it becomes too much. It’s probably because he’s afraid of anger as such an unstable emotion, and he doesn’t want to lose control [as if he ever would]. When it comes to people he cares about, he's careful and protective. But with those outside his inner circle? I see him as kind of indifferent, even a bit cold. He doesn’t care for their opinions and doesn’t bother arguing if he doesn’t think their viewpoint matters to him. And, of course: sarcasm. Sassy, sarcastic Remus is everything.

Weaknesses: Being a werewolf and his family situation made Remus very self-reliant, to the point where he struggles to ask for help, even though he’s capable of accepting it when it’s offered. He has pretty low self-esteem and constantly underestimates how much people care about him and the lengths they’d go for him. He’s the kind of person who would quietly take insults directed at himself but would fiercely defend his loved ones.

The fact that, in canon, he didn’t check on Harry, even though he was the only one who could, makes me think that his sensitivity and low self-esteem sometimes weigh him down, especially in emotionally taxing situations, like the deaths of James and Peter or the accusations against Sirius.

_________

⭐️ Sirius:

Confidence, style, and passion. He’s deeply emotional and feels everything with his whole heart, which also makes him incredibly honest. I love how confident he is, likely because of his family situation, but what makes him truly amazing is his ability to walk away from that toxic environment and those beliefs. Breaking free from his family’s influence took immense bravery. His ability to ask for help when he needs it's a skill that not everyone has.

He’s excitable and has a childlike eagerness that makes him great with kids [you can hear me sobbing in the background]. Also, I love the headcanon that gives him a perfectly androgynous look [but that might as well be a very personal preference]

Weaknesses: Sirius can be far too impulsive, often acting first and thinking later, which has gotten him into serious [pun intended] trouble more than once. His intense emotions can overwhelm him to the point where he doesn’t fully understand them at first, leading to more confusion and frustration. When he’s feeling vulnerable, he tends to mask it with arrogance or defiance, which doesn’t always help the situation, especially when what he truly needs is to open up.

To analyze both of them, I think it’s helpful to consider their Patronus and Animagus forms. Remus is a wolf. Wolves aren’t naturally trusting and tend to form close-knit packs, which aligns with his selective and protective nature when it comes to those he loves. He’s aloof with others but fiercely loyal to his inner circle. Dogs, on the other hand, are playful, excitable, trusting, and loyal to a fault.

Their dynamic is mainly on the "opposites attract" side of the spectrum. Remus is reserved, reflective, and careful, while Sirius is the complete opposite, which creates a natural balance between them. At the same time, Remus is very much a Marauder at heart, willing to join or encourage Sirius [& James] in his pranks and plans, and Sirius has just enough sensibility and care not to hurt Remus, which always tugs at his heartstrings.

For the Tonks/Remus relationship, I won’t lie,it weirds me out too. I’ve always thought the bias that Remus and Sirius were in love might have influenced my feelings about it. The fact that Remus ends up with Tonks after Sirius’ death just doesn’t sit right with me, especially considering that Tonks is Sirius’ niece. Even without that detail, though, it still feels like a very random pairing.

_________

☆ Some of my fav headcanons [some I've read, others I've just come up with]:

They rescue baby Harry from the Dursleys and raise him together [cute chubby-cheeked BABY. HARRY. got my heart]

Sirius sometimes gets nightmares about his parents. When he does, Remus wakes him up, conjures him a cup of warm tea, and reads to him until he falls back asleep

Sirius remembers each and every one of Remus' scars

Sirius stealing Remus' sweaters, both of them having a whole wardrobe-worth of ragged band tees from the 70s and 80s

Remus always wearing several hair ties on his wrist in case Sirius needs them [Sirius likes it because he thinks it's like marking his territory]

Sirius sleeps always in Remus' bed because his scent calms him, and he doesn't have nightmares from his years in Azkaban or his family

Lots of PDA, Sirius is a very physical, touchy person, so he always maintains physical contact with Remus, and Remus absolutely doesn't mind

Remus is the only one capable of keeping Sirius in line when he gets too far

Bassist Remus / singer Sirius

Remus' wolf accepting Sirius as his mate and not attacking him even when Sirius is not in his animagus form [he still tries to avoid that because it makes Remus worry]

Adult wolfstar surviving [ouch.] and opening a shop together [tattoo shop, bookstore, you name it]

_________

☆ Fanfic list:

that’s the art of getting by by sarewolf [rating: M]

Dress up in You by MsKingBean89 [M]

Trust the Wolf to Bring You Home by pancake_surprise (keenbean) [G]

Stealing Harry by copperbadge [M]

How Remus Got His Groove Back by RealityShowJunky [M]

The Devil's White Knight by orphan_account [Rating: E] This is mainly a Drarry fic, but there's a super sweet parents Wolfstar on the side

Note: I've excluded ATYD, Art Heist, Baby!, Crimson Rivers, Best Friend's Brother, Choices, and The Cadence of Part-time Poets from the list because those are a must, the alphabet, a god-given blessing, even if they are not exclusively focused on wolfstar.

_________

☆ Similar ships, in my opinion:

Wei Wuxian / Lan Wangji - MDZS

Crowley / Aziraphale - Good Omens

Barty Crouch Jr. / Evan Rosier - Marauders era

Tim Stoker / Sasha James - TMA

Gojo Satoru / Geto Suguru - jjk

Achilles / Patroclus - TSoA

_________

A final bonus:

☆ Songs that remind me of wolfstar the most:

Moonage Daydream by David Bowie [a.k.a. God]

Mr. Brightside by The Killers

All of David Bowie's discography, I'm afraid [yeah, okay, you got me]

Beauty and the Beast by David Bowie

Wonderwall by Oasis

Cigarette Daydreams by Cage the Elephant

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

As It Was by Harry Styles

Meet Me At Our Spot by the anxiety, willow, Tyler Cole

Malboro Nights by Lonely God

_____

Hope you enjoyed this illegally long post, and also sorry for the late answer 🐺⭐️

[laura1633]

About the ask you got about Max being written as the unattractive one so often, I think it’s worth remembering that in the bulk of fanfiction and fandom, complicated things are very often boiled down to their simplest tropes! The general public’s perception is that Charles is one of the most attractive drivers on the grid, so that means that Max is usually relegated to the “ugly”/self-conscious role because that is the easiest way to write it.

I think it’s kind of the same as the way Charles is often the hyper-feminized character while Max is the more boyish/masculine one. Not to say that any of these takes are objectively bad because obviously writers should write what they’d like, but I think these types of basic concepts just make it easier to jump in and get going.

Personally, I do love a real character study, and I love it when they both are written with their own insecurities that just baffle the other one because it’s like “what do you mean???? You’re the hottest person I’ve ever seen!!!!” 🥰

Some really great points anon <3

You are definitely right about some fan fiction being boiled down to tropes. I'm not saying that as a negative because I love reading and writing lots of the popular tropes. It's funny because things that might put me off certain films etc draw me in in fan fiction, I think fan fiction just hits differently. I will read the same trope over and over and love it each time.

I sometimes wonder if a little of the perception of Max also has to do with the fact that Max came into this sport so young and sometimes when you are still growing and getting comfortable with yourself you can come across as more awkward (not always but sometimes). I think people still think he is that younger Max and have completely missed the fact he has grown up in to this really hot man! (In much the same way as how people like to go on about things he did on the track 10 years ago as some sort of statement for the type of driver he is)

I guess when you have a story idea that requires one of them to be the less attractive one and you are writing about Max and Charles it's a struggle ! I just find it really difficult to try and think about Max being the 'less attractive one' because I just look at him and think he is the most attractive on the grid. Not that I am going to try and describe Charles as unattractive 😂

To me it all just comes down to which character's POV I am writing from because Charles is going to go crazy over how attractive Max is and vice versa. So I definitely agree with you anon, I love it when they are both so confused and just can't get over how the other would be insecure because they are just perfect.

(I am also sure that there are some people who write fanfiction about Max who actually don't like him and are using him as a plot device and in those cases they are quite happy to describe him as ugly, I personally avoid anything that even seems like it is going in that direction though!)

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Crazy how people just get blinders on. All these people throwing names and accusations at JK over, what? Two songs and an instagram post? Completely forgetting the fact that JK has been working on JJK1 for literally years. Six or seven years if I remember correctly. They forget that he's an accomplished songwriter and producer in his own merit and has written and contributed to some of the best songs BTS have ever made. Where are these accusations that he's some kind of money hungry lazy bubblegum pop barbie doll coming from? (This is a rhetorical question, I just think it's insane.) He's a perfectionist, is obviously working on his own music (judging by how he ran off to the studio at 4am after missing jimin hours) and is likely in the process of deciding all the minute details for his own debut? Did the fandom communally forget that he mentioned wanting to do a visual album in his BE interview? He's got big plans, just because he's not talking about them doesn't mean they're not happening. and god, after how absolutely weird jay park was about hobi being on his show and how shady he's been about the guys in the past, I'd take a thousand JB collabs over another interaction with him.

***

Hear hear.

I agree with you mostly, but I want to use one part of your ask to make a larger point on something else I’ve noticed for some time, on how we talk about the fandom.

“Did the fandom communally forget…”

We all do this when talking about the fandom/ARMY, but something I want to point out is often times, in these sorts of situations, it’s not the same groups of people within the fandom who are doing these things. It’s not the same people who view JK the way you do, who are complaining about a (potential) JB collab. The fandom is just so big that whenever a certain faction decides to be loud, or if you’re in a space that interacts frequently with that faction of the fandom, it will seem like it’s most ARMYs having that view when it’s far from reality. And this is why the sub-labels within the fandom are useful so we can distinguish who is saying what, to avoid needless confusion. The sub-labels being: solo stans, diet solo stans, shippers, multis, mantis, OT7 ARMYs, etc.

That the knee jerk reaction to one studio pic is assuming JK is mindlessly playing fiddle for ‘payola boy’ because JK wants to chart easily and because Bang PD is everyone’s favourite Disney villain, is the first dead giveaway this reaction is coming from someone who doesn’t keep up with JK besides through their pre-conceived notions, or someone who views him and his work in direct competition with the other members. There’s been an outbreak of diet solo stans and mantis in the fandom in Chapter 2 but they still don’t make up most of the fandom.

I suspect some people are feeling sensitive, a bit pissed off and frustrated with BB’s rule change and how that impacts Jimin’s solo accolades, and so those who feel JK’s in competition with JM, catastrophized one picture of JK actively working on a solo project with a producer to mean a JB collab that could threaten the hard-won records for Jimin. Most of the people who tend to think like this, are solo stans, mantis, and their diet versions within ARMY.

For most everyone else in the fandom and especially with OT7 ARMYs, there’s the understanding that any BTS member doing well is a good thing, that the fandom generally works to aid them all in doing well, and that every BTS member is already doing well. Sometimes some members will perform better on the charts, but that’s normal and expected. FACE won’t be Jimin’s only solo project in 2023, and Jungkook has been making songs for years, meaning there’ll be several more opportunities for ARMYs to support both their projects better.

I understand it’s easier to generalize the fandom when speaking casually and generally, I do the same thing too. But I think it’s worth remembering all the different players in the fandom, how many have conflicting interests, and that many times if you see contradictory responses coming from the fandom, it’s simply not the same groups of people flip-flopping, changing their tune, or otherwise kicking up a stink. Anyone looking from the outside in could make that mistake in assuming it’s the same groups of people, but those of us within the fandom could improve the conversation by identifying who exactly are driving these narratives when we discuss them.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Panther Princess; T’Challa x child reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LONG time in the making, not only cause of motivation and time schedule wise but I wanted to make sure I GOT THIS FIC RIGHT since this is my first time writing for T'Challa since Chadwick's death last year (MAY HE RIP OUR KING!!!). Hope you guys enjoy this, and I’ve decided that after a few Wattpad requests I’ll open requests up here on Tumblr but there will be some MAJOR adjustments to what fandoms I’ll do. For now just be patient with me and eventually I will open requests here on Tumblr, I just don’t want to be overwhelmed.

Warnings: Malnourishment. abuse, terrorists involved (no action but just the word), some fluff.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@soy-guey

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

______________________________________________________________

It was in the dead of night when T’Challa received word about some smugglers were traveling with some stolen Vibranium, and word has it that they were working for Klaue.  Even though he had been dead, Klaue’s business was still running and forging deals with terrorists groups and anti-government parties.

Him and Okoye were flying over towards the drop-off point where the dealers were gonna be exchanging their latest steal of Vibranium.

“The dealers that Klaus’ second Lt. Rosko Lannister is selling the Vibranium to come from an Iranian terrorist group.”

“As usual we will let them make their business transaction before taking any further action. After dealing with the terrorist group and Lannister is ours, he will be put under the same crimes as we would’ve given Klaue.” T’Challa told Okoye.  She nodded as the jet continued to fly towards their destination.

It was just before sunset when at an old, abandoned warehouse Rosko Lannister and some of Klaue’s old men waited for their clients to arrive.  Soon enough driving in the black SUV’s and Honda trucks, the Iranian terrorist group came out of their cars.  Most of them were soldiers holding their AK-47’s close to their chest while out of the head van, 3 men dressed in full 3 piece suits exited the car.

They looked exactly alike for these three men were actually brothers.  Two of them were twins and the other was a year younger than his older twin brothers. Hasim, Sami, and Achmed Israeli were the three leaders of the biggest terrorist group in the world.  There was even record shown that they made deals with HYDRA back in the day.  Mostly smuggled weapons and potential serums for super soldiers.

After the fall back in 2014 when both SHIELD and HYDRA were exposed, the brothers decided to go underground and disappear under the radar.  The US and European governments have been trying to find them ever since but they are too clever and can easily cover their tracks both physically and wirelessly.

“The Israeli brothers. I can’t tell you how honored I am to be doing business with you.” Rosko praised.

“We didn’t come for praises. We came for the Vibranium. Do you have it?” the oldest twin brother Sami demanded.

“Getting down to business. That was one thing my former associate Klaue always appreciated. God rest his soul.” Rosko kissed his finger before raising them upward. “Nah I’m just kidding he was an arsehole, I’m actually glad he’s dead.” He changed his tune.

“The Vibranium. Do you have it or not!?” demanded the younger twin Hasim.

“Patience Hasim. Let the white man talk.” Sami eased his brother.  Rosko turned to one of his guys and nodded.  His left hand man let out a whistle and soon two men come carrying in a large box that was filled with the stolen Vibranium that Klaue had stowed away for himself.

The men set it down before the brothers and Achmed opened the case up to reveal the Vibranium they were looking for.  A small smirk came across Sami’s face and he said.

“Excellent. The most powerful material in the universe.”

“It did come at personal cost from Klaue, better him than me. It’s worth billions. Hope you also kept your end of the deal. This transaction is only fair if both parties agree.” Hasim smirked cunningly and turned to his general.

He nodded and exclaimed in Muslim and before Rosko even knew it. Every single one of his men was shot dead by the Israeli brother’s soldiers, leaving only him alive.

Every gun was now turned on him and Rosko had no choice but to raise his hands slowly.

“True. But when dealing with terrorists you should’ve also realized that there is a price to pay. Especially if you’ve been followed.” Sami said. At this point Rosko was confused.

“What-what-what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been in this game for a long time Mr. Lannister, I’ve seen everything and heard it all. Superheroes, aliens, psychotic androids, even real life wizards. So don’t think for a second that your actions hasn’t risen suspicion to the one who rules the very place where you got this Vibranium from.” Sami closed the case and patted it before his brother Achmed took it and had it put in the truck.

“King T’Challa has no idea of this Vibranium that was stashed away. He’s recovered the traces of Vibranium that Klaue kept public. There’s no way he could know about this.”

“Clearly Klaue had a better game face than you Mr. Lannister. For he wouldn’t have revealed such an important fact to me.” At that moment Rosko knew he had been played by the brothers.  Before he knew it, a bullet went straight into his head and he died right there.

“Surround the area. We don’t leave till the King is dead.” Ordered Achmed to his security team.  The soldiers exclaimed Arabic commands as they surrounded the warehouse with their guns outward and ready to fire.

One guard in particular heard something move behind him and he quickly turned and fired three shots but didn’t hit anything but some old crates.  His paranoia was getting the best of him and that’s what gave him away.  He was suddenly grabbed by the back of his robes and lifted up and beaten till he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

2 more guards heard what was going on and went to check on their fallen soldier when a flash of a figure ran behind them. They quickly turned and fired their guns when suddenly T’Challa came down behind them, quickly disarmed them and knocked them unconscious.

As more of the brother’s security came in and they open fired on T’Challa, he merely walked towards the security before sprinting forward and disarming the rest of them.  His claws tearing their guns apart, and using his quick ‘cat-like’ agility, he managed to take down the entire fleet.

“Israeli brothers!” he cried out.  It was then Sami came out and T’Challa revealed his face to the eldest brother.

“King T’Challa. I must say it is an honor to be in your presence.” Sami mocked.

“Did you really believe we would be unaware of this trade?”

“On the contrary, I expected this all along. It was that witless white monkey Rosko who didn’t expect to see you. But never fear, he’s out of both of our hands.” Sami said nonchalantly as he looked down at his nails.  

“If you surrender the stolen Vibranium to me, we can resolve this peacefully. But refuse, and you’ll face justice of Wakanda in Rosko Lannister’s stand. You and your brothers.”

“See my brothers and I made a pact. If we can’t escape the system, we’d be—how you say, judge jury and executioner to ourselves. And rather than rot in a cell separated, we shall join together in a blaze of glory. And we’re not afraid to take you with us, suffering the same fate as your own father did.” Sami raised his arms out like he was flying and waiting for a fiery explosion to happen.

But nothing came.

He opened his eyes to reveal that nothing had happened.  It was then coming into the open space were Ayo and Okoye who had Sami’s younger brothers. Both men were bruised and battered up pretty badly.  The two Dora Milaje members dropped his brothers down at his feet like trash and T’Challa said.

“I told you. This could’ve been resolved peacefully. But you forced our hand, especially when you had planned to blow up the place with all of us inside.” Sami growled but nonetheless raised his hands in surrender.

As the Dora Milaje were detaining the three brothers, T’Challa retrieved the stolen Vibranium when he heard something nearby.  It sounded like chains, they had defeated all of the security, Rosko and his men were all shot by the Israeli brother’s defense, and the brothers were all detained so who else was here?

“My King?” Okoye asked.

“Stay here Okoye, I want to check something out.” He told his general of the Dora Milaje.

“My king, it could be another threat we do not yet know about. Let me come with you.”

“I’m not defenseless Okoye. Now you and Ayo just put the men on the ship and let me handle this. It could be some animal or the chains fell down off of something.” Okoye nodded to her king and soon T’Challa headed deeper into the warehouse.

As he explored every bit of it, he soon noticed that there appeared to be a hidden door within the walls that was very faintly cracked open.  He opened the door and could hear the sound of the chains getting louder and louder.

It was almost like they were—pacing? They kept a constant rhythm as they would move about, in a circle pattern or something close to it.  T’Challa slowly walked towards the direction of the chains and soon found what appeared to be a cage.  A glass cage but it was inside that surprised the Wakandan King.

Inside the glass was a child.  She appeared to be around the ages of 8-11 years old. Her hair was extremely long and madded like a lion’s mane.  She looked malnourished so much so that you could almost see her bones.  But for being malnourished, how could she have the energy to pace so frantically like she was now?  He also noticed that there around her neck, wrists and ankles were chains keeping her inside.

T’Challa slowly walked out of the shadows and into the light where the child would be able to see him.  She stopped her pacing and just stared at him curiously. T’Challa disengaged his full Black Panther suit so that he was in his normal clothes.

“I am not here to hurt you.” He gently told the child.  The child slightly tilted their head like a lost puppy.  “My name is T’Challa, what’s yours?” T’Challa slowly and slowly got closer and closer to her cage as he spoke in that soft voice of his.  When she didn’t answer him he assured you, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

Suddenly in the blink of an eye, her (e/c) soon turned to a deep cat eye yellow.  Her body shifted into a fairly young but still decent size panther and she lashed out at the cage, knocking T’Challa off his feet in slight fear.  The child now standing before him as a full panther clawed and roared at the cage furiously.

“My King!” Ayo’s voice spoke in Xhosa and soon her and Okoye came in and when they saw the panther, they lifted up their spears in defense.

“Stand down!” T’Challa commanded them.

“But my king—this animal is feral. It was going to kill you.” Okoye reasoned with him but T’Challa told her.

“She is a human child. She shifted into this panther before my eyes. Look.” Soon enough the panther shrunk down and soon turned back into the young girl who was still pacing back and forth in her cage.

“What sorcery is this?” asked Ayo.

“Not magic. Science. Look closer at her arms.” T’Challa said.  At the section of the arm on the other side of the elbow, they noticed dozens of needle injection scars.

“This child was experimented on.” Okoye said grimly with a horrified expression.

“What do we do my King?” asked Ayo.  T’Challa looked at the child who was growling and trying to act scary even though she was no longer a panther anymore.

“We take her to Shuri. Maybe she can shed more light on the matter. Get her to the ship. But approach her cautiously. Don’t make any sudden movements.” Ayo and Okoye bowed their heads to their king and walked towards the cage.

The girl would hit her skeletal body up against the cage trying to rattle it and actually roared out a panther’s real roar, her teeth slowly growing into the large infamous canines of a real big cat. Okoye and Ayo then placed a hover bead on each end of the cage and soon the cage levitated just a few feet off the ground.

The little girl roared and began clawing at the glass but it hardly did anything as she was now being guided towards the ship.

When they reached Wakanda after dealing with the brothers, Shuri in her lab was going over the girl’s intel scan that she made of the girl from her cage with her kimoyo beads.

“So what is it you can find Shuri?” T’Challa said as he entered his sister’s lab.

“This may come as a surprise to you brother. But—she has no birth record at all. I’ve contacted some of my people in various places around the world to see if there has been any missing child and all of them have said no. My theory is that she may have been created from a test tube to look like this.”

“Any idea who could’ve made her?”

“The same organization that made the White Wolf into the Winter Soldier.”

“Hydra.” T’Challa said gravely.  Shuri nodded.

“I hacked into their old files and it only confirms my theory. Seems like they wanted to create their own Cat-god or something.”

“Any records on what her powers are? She can shift into a panther but can she also shift into anything else?”

“I’m still digging through the files, there’s a lot of files that came to creating her. It’ll take time brother.” T’Challa nodded in understandment.

“Keep me updated.”

“Yes brother.” T’Challa walked away but he turned back towards the young girl and saw that she had briefly stopped her pacing to look at him once again.

A week later after finding the child, Shuri managed to dig up that HYDRA’s plan for the Child was for her to become their Agent Battle Cat.  The ability to shift into a panther.  She also has enhanced agility, speed, and strength.

However when HYDRA fell back in 2014, they were forced to abandon the project and she had been left alone in that warehouse ever since.  Thinking about the enhancing experiments she must’ve been forced to endure or whatever genes they gave her, it allowed her to survive even being chained up in a cage for years on end until she felt like she needed to give up.

While being kept under his sister’s supervision, T’Challa also made it apparent to try and communicate with the Child, just to see if she could either understand or (in a rare case) speak in any language.  The first time he had tried to talk to her well—let’s just say she ended up with broken nails and chipped teeth after trying to take a bite of T’Challa’s forearm when he activated his suit to protect his arm from her attack.

He had finally finished his royal civic duties for the day when he decided to try and talk to the Child again.

“You sure it’s a good idea brother? You did cause her to lose her nails and chipped some of her teeth.”

“I learned my lesson last time. But you weren’t there before that happened. She had actually dropped her guard and almost looked like she wanted to communicate with me. I think I’m getting through to her.”

“Okay brother. But if she attacks you again, I doubt that’ll sit well with Mother as well as Okoye and Ayo.”

“I will handle mama and the Dora Milaje. For now see to it that no one disturbs us.” Shuri nodded and told her workers to go home for now, leaving T’Challa and the Child alone.

T’Challa slowly approached her cage to see her lying down on her side licking her broken nails.  Some of them had broken off by the top, while the rest had the entire nail broken leaving a bloody mess in it’s wake.  She was currently licking her blood stained fingertips when she caught T’Challa’s scent.

She growled and hissed angrily at him, her canine fangs extended out and her eyes shifted into the cold, yellow panther eyes.

“Steady, steady. I’m not here to hurt you.” T’Challa sat down a few feet away from the cage and continued, “I am sorry for what happened to you. I was only protecting myself from getting hurt. It was my fault for overstepping my boundaries.” Her hissing ceased and she closed her mouth hiding her fangs but she would occasionally growl lowly, her tail coming out and twitching anxiously.

They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes when T’Challa said to her.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of a name for you. You know something to call you. I’m betting the men who created you never really gave you a real human name. What do you think about—Ariana?” the Child hissed. T’Challa chuckled, “Didn’t think so. Shuri said you might like it but now I can prove to her that I was right. Now for the real options, what about…….Nala?” the child tilted her head confused.  “No? What about…..Diana?” she looked down and went back to licking her fingertips. “That won’t really help them heal. Sure it’ll clot the blood but it’s not that good for saliva to heal a wound like that.”

She looked up at T’Challa and growled lowly.

“I’m just trying to help. We have the medicine that’ll help you. I won’t lie it might sting for a brief second but it’ll help. Will you trust me with healing you, please?” the child looked between him and her fingers before slowly extending her arms out and she briefly nodded.

T’Challa then got some antiseptic and band-aids. He opened up a small section of the cage, just enough for her arms to come out.

“Thank you for your trust.” He then began to doctor her fingertips.  She let out some painful roars on the stubbed fingertips that no longer had a nail anymore but at least this time she didn’t try to attack him like last time.  He soothed her with calming phrases like ‘it’s okay. It’s won’t last long.’ And ‘Just relax, it’s almost over.’ After bandaging up her left pinkie finger he told her, “There, I’m done (Y/n).”

At hearing that name, she looked up at T’Challa curiously.  Her tail perked up and the tip curled inward.  T’Challa looked at her to see her tail fall limp to the cage floor. “(Y/n)?” her tail lifted up again and her head tilted curiously.  “So you like that name eh?” She looked at T’Challa and her nose twitched as she was trying to sniff him through the glass.

Taking a risk, he slowly reached his hand into the cage once more like before.  However this time he kept his hand in a downward position, so that his hand formed the shape of another cat’s nose.  The Child slowly crept towards his hand and gave it a sniff, when she saw that he wasn’t moving his hand, she rubbed her head against his hand for a brief second before nuzzling underneath his palm so that it sat on top of her head.

He gently began scratching her scalp which caused her to let out soft comforting purrs.  T’Challa smiled warmly and continued to gently give the child—well (Y/n) some more scritches and pets.

“Don’t you worry (Y/n). I promise I won’t allow anyone else to harm you in any shape or form.”

The next couple of months after getting her body weight back to normal and healing any other wounds she had maintained, T’Challa allowed (Y/n) to venture outside the palace with him.  Thinking the city itself was too much for her right now, he decided to take her out to the Border tribe so that she could see the outside world for the first time in her life.

Needless to say she was overwhelmed but she was happy to feel the grass beneath her feet, see the beautiful landscape, and hear all the sounds of the outside world from the animal calls to some of the Border tribe members talking with each other.

“Seems she’s getting along well.” Okoye observed (Y/n) who was cautiously watching the rhinos from their pins.

“Slowly but surely she is. Walking on two feet is still a bit of a challenge but she’ll get there eventually.” T’Challa told her.

“At least she’s learned to not attack you.”

“It was one time Okoye, be nice.”

“As your General it is my duty—”

“I understand your duty General. But you must also know that there will be times you can’t protect me. And this attack was very minor compared to the fights I’ve been in before.” It was then T’Challa saw (Y/n) now focusing her attention on some birds that had just landed a few feet away from the rhino pins.  Her panther instincts kicked in as she got into pouncing position, her pupils were fully blown and her shoulder blades flexed over one another as her butt raised higher and higher in the air.

Finally she raced forward and the birds immediately took off flying.  She leaped well over 7ft in the air and managed to capture a bird in her claws and delivered a fatal bite.  She then raced over to T’Challa and presented him the dead bird.

She placed it on the ground before his feet and backed away before tilting her head with a happy smile on her face.

“Seems she has a gift for you my King.” Okoye said. T’Challa grimaced at the gift but he quickly smiled down at her and knelt down in front of her.

“I appreciate the gift (Y/n). But—we cannot keep this bird kept within a cage. Like how I freed you, we must also allow this bird to move onto the next life.” He dug into the earth for a small shallow grave, just big enough for the bird and he placed the bird into the makeshift grave.  He buried it under the earth and he sent a brief prayer to Bast in Wakandan. “Right, now let’s head back to the palace. I have a meeting with M’Baku about reforging our alliance and allowing the Jabari tribe into the council.”

Okoye and T’Challa walked ahead when they heard something behind them.  At first they thought it was one of the goats but it sounded to hoarse to be one of them. They slowly turned around and saw (Y/n) with a hand over the grave of the bird and she was saying.

“Ba……Ba.”

“Is she……?” Okoye started.

“Ba.” (Y/n) was trying to talk!  She was trying to say the Cat goddess Bast’s name.  She managed to get out the first constant and vowel but she couldn’t figure out how to do her S and T.

“Her first time talking. She’s trying to say Bast’s name.” T’Challa knelt down and he asked her, “(Y/n), are you trying to give a prayer to Bast?”

“Ba!” she exclaimed again.  T’Challa was overjoyed on the inside that the girl he had decided to take under his wing and raise was finally trying to talk.  Many of the tutors he and Shuri had growing up had given up saying that she was incapable of speaking because all she did was just hiss and growl as well as throw things at them before laughing like a deranged hyena.

“Here I’ll help you say her name.” he adjusted himself so that he sat down and he placed his hand right next to hers and he said slowly so that she could see how his lips did it. “Say Bast.”

“Ba.”

“Bast.”

“Ba.” T’Challa shook his head.

“Watch me carefully. Bast.” He enunciated the t at the end.  (Y/n) growled lowly before taking a deep inhale and finally exclaiming.

“BAST!”

“Yes. Yes that’s it! You did it (Y/n) great job!” at seeing T’Challa’s excitement, (Y/n) began to repeat Bast’s name gleefully as she pranced around.

“A little cocky there isn’t she?” Okoye muttered.

“Let her have this moment Okoye. Besides probably hunting and killing, this is her first real big achievement. A normal milestone.”

“I suppose so.” She agreed.  Even though she might not have wanted to admit it, she thought it was adorable how little (Y/n) was finally able to speak a human language and become so happy with herself that she would prance around like a yearling antelope.

Over the next couple of years, (Y/n) continued to not only advance in her human speaking skills, but she now began to show signs of aging.  She went from that small child to now almost a young adult woman in just 2 years since finding her.  Seemed with the animal enhancement, it also increased her human aging with each time she grew stronger and tougher.

T’Challa continued to raise her as his own and pretty soon all of Wakanda looked at her as their young Princess.  Shuri loved hanging out with (Y/n) and teaching her everything there was to know about science and technology.  She even took her as an apprentice in her lab.  Okoye eventually came around and soon saw (Y/n) as a member of the royal family and took it upon herself to train her like a Dora Milaje so that she could defend herself without the need of her animal powers.

For she was the Panther Princess.

[thequeenofsastiel]

Not Me Series Review

Overall, this show was excellent.

It started off a little silly, though admittedly pretty intense. White's absolutely terrible plan to try to imitate Black, whom he knew next to nothing about, to Black's gang, who had plans to burn down a house, made me think this show was going to be a somewhat dark comedy.

But then episode 3 happened.

Episode three, in which the show tackled ableism and corruption and human rights abuses and privilege.

I knew from that episode that this show was going to be different.

And it was.

It would have impressed me alone from its music and acting and characters and couple chemistry. But the fact that what it did was call out the government for its awful behavior, in a country in which free speech is limited and the media is largely controlled by said government, absolutely blew my mind. Since episode three aired until the show ended I kept half expecting it to get pulled and censored. I am both shocked and thrilled that we got to watch the whole thing.

Moreover, the very fact that this show was not only made but aired in full says a lot about the shifting public opinion in Thailand. It means that there were enough people in the government controlled media that wanted what Not Me had to say to get out to the public. I am honestly far more fascinated by Thai politics after watching this show than I would have ever believed possible, and I'm pretty damn obsessed with politics in general. My fandoms are my escape when I can't bear to think about the burgeoning civil war in my country or the invasion of Ukraine or climate change or any other number of issues anymore. But this show collided the two things that take up most of my mental energy, and I'm genuinely glad that it did. I'm grateful to everyone involved for the bravery they showed in making this and airing this.

I'm not going to pretend that the politics were the only thing I liked about it. I loved Gun's acting. If he doesn't win at least one award for this show it'll be a goddamn crime. I really enjoyed Seanwhite and the power dynamics in their relationship. Danyok was also wonderful. Eugene and Namo were excellent characters and I would have liked to have seen more of them.

The only thing about this show that actually bothered me was the whole EugeneGram twist. It felt weird and unnecessary. I wasn't personally terribly invested in Blackgram, but it seemed like the show was heading in that direction, and it felt like the right way to go. Not doing so was confusing. Also, it made Gram's character inconsistent, his behavior towards Eugene was toxic and gross, and her suddenly being into him after very clearly not felt forced.

I've seen people speculate that the reason the show didn't go with canon Blackgram was because of fears of the outcry of fans who wouldn't want to see Gun with someone other than Off, and it wouldn't surprise me if that was true. The toxicity of shipping actors rearing its ugly head again. So, if that's the case, I honestly can't really blame the writers/producers for that decision, even though I think the show suffered as a result.

Plus I think it would've been more compelling to put Eugene with Namo, but whatever.

Now that the show has finished airing, I stand by my statement a couple of weeks ago that this show could absolutely make a second season work. Not just work. Be awesome. Black is a very interesting character, and I'd love to either see him work with the gang, or make new activist friends. I'd love to see what more the show has to say about Thai politics. I think Dan and Yok's story has a whole lot of potential. And, given the fan outcry about Blackgram, perhaps a second season could break up Gram and Eugene and have Blackgram happen.

Though tbh I'm personally more hoping for that because of the potential of NamoEugene.

Will it happen? I have no idea. I've seen people say that Off and Gun are done doing BLs, but I've seen no actual proof of that other than rumors(if you have any links to them actually saying that, feel free to drop them, but don't leave comments with any unsourced rumors, please). Of course the show could just write them out and center around Danyok, though, while I think it would make more sense to have them as the main couple for a second season, it would be a real pity if at least Gun didn't come back to play Black.

I think the main obstacle would be the government, now that all the people not involved in the approval of the first season will be aware of what the show had to say.

I hope there is a second season, I really, really do, but even if there isn't, this show was an absolute gift, and is definitely going in my top 5.

9.5/10

[archived-kin]

solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts. 

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness  that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.” 

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all. 

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

[sammysamstuff]

a twink is literally a more or less defined term in gay jargon as "a gay male who is young (typically between 18-25) with boyish qualities (read: smooth/little to no bodyhair)" (and usually white and fashionable) (the same way "bear" is a jargon term denoting gay men who are fat and got body hair). it's got nothing inherently to do with being "weak" or "feminine" or even a bottom. it's got even less to do inherently with kink, so idk what your point was with that because it could be easily (mis)understood as you calling gay sex in general already kink. like it was a very weird jump to make in your argument.

on the topic of Will, he just straight up falls out of the very definition due to being older and quite scruffy.

like you've got a point with people needing to stop equating being a bottom to being weak, feminine, submissive and so on (plenty of twink tops out there in the world) but the way your post is worded, it comes across as incredibly confusing and self-serving (partially because i've also never seen the takes you're criticising anywhere before but that might just be me being in my bubble).

anyway long story short: twink just means a young, boyish gay man. will falls out of that category. very confusing post of yours.

Yes, I’m well aware of the meaning of the term “twink”. But thank you for the condescending ask in any case, anon, I’m a bisexual man in a mlm relationship, so I’m well aware of the terminology.

It’s clear like you said so yourself that you haven’t read the posts I’m referring to, but I’ve seen and read them and they were made by fairly popular accounts here. If you have indeed seen it and is playing stupid, well…

Not only the posts but the replies and the notes in both posts were clearly written by people who have no idea what they’re talking about and yet insist on trying to tell the fandom what to ship, how to ship it and most importantly, judging people negatively whether they use the term twink to look at/speak about Will Graham and “how twink is a fetishising term” that “should not be applied to him because it denotes “feminine, weak, submissive” which he’s not because he’s got “veiny arms” and is “scruffy” also “how could anybody think Will Graham could ever be a Twink bottom” “so disgusting” etc. Needless to say, everything in “” was in the replies and in the post itself.

Those posts were also saying that if you imagine Will Graham as a twink you’re fetishizing mlm relationships and you shouldn’t and how could you bla bla bla.

My post was in direct response to those posts and those replies. It’s not self-serving at all, I’ve posted the commentary of a gay man, who engages in sub-dom sex play and who is a bottom and who is explaining that there’s an equal power play in both sides. So if you consider yourself a twink and has a daddy and engage in power play, for instance, that doesn’t make you weak. Various arguments in the replies in one of the posts was “imagine thinking that Will Graham with those veiny arms would be some weak twink sub”. Being a twink, bottom, boy, pup, doesn’t make anybody weak or feminine, get it??

So yeah. Nice huh?? Such a nice fandom police we have.

Twink is a term that could be applied to Will Graham, or Hannibal Lecter and many other characters, it all depends on how you personally view them, it has nothing to do with canon. When I read my fics or imagine a young, skinny Will Graham I don’t imagine Hugh Dancy, but some of his traits are present but it’s not him. The same way that I when I imagine a young Hannibal Lecter, I don��t imagine Mads Mikkelsen, but a young, boyish (from my own imagination) Hannibal Lecter. So they can be twinks in my imagination if I want, in the fics I read or write.

Have you read the many different universes and descriptions of Will Graham across the fandom? Also, if he’s older and scruffy, I can also call him Twink ironically, if we’re following the definition of the term, I’m allowed to use irony and humour to play with my favourite characters. We call Will and Hannibal DILFS and that’s fun, but we can’t call them twinks because that’s feminine, weak, bottomy and not what they are at all? Like it’s offensive???? Pffttt please.

[reidsmemory]

Movies

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Genre: Pure fluff

Warnings: Grumpy Spence

Challenge: Day 8 - Movies

Quinn Speaks: This is hella late :/ Sorry for the hold up y’all!! My schedule got super busy bc I started peer tutoring this week as well as attending a school conference thingy! My Halloween writing challenge!!

not my gif!

     “The weather is too bad to head back tonight,” Hotch told the team as you all let out a collective groan. It was about 4:30 and you all had just wrapped up a case in a small Colorado town.

     “We were suppose to start our marathon tonight,” your boyfriend tugged on your sleeve a bit as he talked in a hush tone. It was true, about a week before Halloween you and Spencer would take turns picking out spooky movies to watch.

     “I know,” you whispered back, “maybe we can find something on the TV back at the hotel?” He grumbled a bit and placed his head onto your shoulder. You hadn’t seen him this upset about something since some guy had openly flirted with you at a bar before you two had gotten together.

     You knew that you had to do something as pretty much everyone on the team had expected to go home and spend time with their loved ones or just relax in general. 

     “Lets head back to the hotel, yeah?” you said to the team as they nodded and walked over to the black SUVs and piled their bags in the trunks. You hopped in the passengers seat and Derek sat across from you in the drivers seat. Spencer grumbled something about you not wanting to sit next to him as he made his way into the backseat with Penelope. 

     Morgan started to drive and you pulled out your phone and started to look some things up.

     “Whatcha doing there, Princess?” Derek asked as he saw your fingers rapidly typing on your phone. 

     “Oh nothing,” you spoke with a teasing grin as he chuckled a bit under his breath. Spencer shot you a look in the mirror of the car and you just winked as he grew more curious. 

     Morgan eventually pulled up to the little in you were staying at and he promptly pulled into a parking spot as Hotch, who was driving the other SUV, did the same. Everyone got out off the car and reluctantly went to go check in again and get room cards once again. 

    Spencer opened the door to your shared room and dropped his bags down on the floor and face planted into the bed. He groaned loudly and you went over to him and rubbed his back lightly.

     “Don’t worry, Doc,” you spoke sweetly, “everything’s gonna work out, yeah?” He just whined at your words, but they were muffled by the mattress. “I gotta step out for a minute okay?” 

     He didn’t respond.

     You let the man to sulk in your shared room as you closed the door and got on the phone with the restaurant. “Hi, yeah I’d like to set a reservation for eight.” You paused a bit as the man on the other end talked. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Another pause. “Yes that’s perfect, thank you so much.”

     You sent a text to the group chat you all had saying, ‘be ready in 30!’ 

     Stepping into the room, Spencer was now sitting up right and he looked at you with confusion evident on his face. “What are we doing in 30 minutes?” 

    “You’ll have to wait and find out, Doc,” you replied as he groaned and you let out a light laugh. 

***

    You opened the door to the restaurant. It was a small Japanese place that was family owned, in fact you had met the daughter on the case earlier this week. The team stepped into the place and were greeted as you talked for them, “table for Y/N Y/L/N.”

     “Right this way,” she said as you all followed. Spencer grasped you hand and you smiled at him lightly. He of course returned the gesture, but you could tell he was still a bit upset. 

     She gestured for you all to take a seat at the table as the chef prepared to start cooking. It was one of those places with an open grill where they would make the food right in front of you and the team was big enough to get it’s own table. 

     You all looked at the menu and ordered as the chef in front of you started making some food. You kissed the back of Spencer’s hand sweetly as he blushed at your public display of affection. 

     “So what was with all the blankets and pillows in the back of the car?” JJ asked as she took a bite of the appetizer in front of her. 

     Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you smiled. “Well the city is putting something together tonight and I figured we could go tonight if you all were up for it?” They all responded with nods or yes’ and you smiled.

     “What are they doing?” Spencer asked you quietly.

     “That is part of the surprise, babe,” you smiled as you spoke, “and no I will not tell you because we are dating.” Spencer closed his mouth and pouted a bit as you took the words right out of is mouth. 

     “Here you are,” the chef said as he gave Spencer his dish and Spencer thanked him. “And for the lady,” you smiled and repeated Spencer’s actions as he moved to give Emily her food. 

     Everyone ate for a bit and you all shared laughs and smiles. Derek even shared some of his high school stories which always earned wide smiles and aching stomachs from the laughs. JJ jumped in with occasional story about Will and Henry and Hotch did the same with Jack.

     Penelope informed you all of the new TV she was binging and even wrote it down on your palm so you could watch it and report back to her. You and Penny had a tendency to share shows so you could gossip about them whenever you weren’t working. 

     Emily entertained you all with a story about her many times traveling the globe as you and Spencer glanced at each other, both silently agreeing to visit the place Emily talked so highly of. 

     Everyone’s plates were clear and you all paid for your own food; split bills made no sense in the opinion of the team. By the time you all had cleared out of the restaurant the sun was starting to set as orange and yellow hues filled the sky and a light chill was felt in the air as Spencer unconsciously pulled you under his arm as if it was second nature now. 

     “Alright, Princess,” Derek said as you climbed in the passengers seat next to him, “where to next?”

     “I just put the location in the GPS,” you said glancing down at your phone, making sure the text with the address got delivered to JJ. He nodded at you words and pulled out of the parking lot and started to follow the directions that were spewed from the mouth of the car. 

     Street lamps up and down the little town as some people walked their dog or ran on the side walk with their ear buds in and surely playing some type of motivational music. Slowly more and more parked cars came into view and Derek whistled from besides you. 

     “Full house,” he stated as you nodded. Looking to Spencer who was trying to catch a glimpse of what everyone had gathered for. 

     Derek managed to find a spot and so did Hotch as he parked right across from you. Grabbing the blankets and pillows from the back as well as slipping your hand into Spencer’s. “Can you tell me now?” he asked.

     “Just a few more steps and you’ll see for yourself.” As the team followed your steps thy soon saw what you had come for. A big blow up screen was set up as well as vendors for popcorn and candies. 

     The title card of ‘Coraline’ was on the screen and you saw Spencer’s eye light up as he soon turned to you and placed a kiss on your lips. You gladly indulged in the mans actions and could here Penny and Derek making a commotion as you did so. 

     He pulled away with a sheepish smile as he never really was one for PDA. “I love you,” he whispered.

     “Yeah, yeah,” you murmured back as his smile grew into a wide, lopsided grin at your words. “Come on,” you said as you pulled him as you both jogged a bit to catch up with the team. 

      Kids were laughing and playing around you as parent watched with careful eyes and full hearts. Spotting some of the officers from the town, you all waved as they did the same back. Laying the blankets down on the grass, you all seemed to have a different idea of how to enjoy the night. 

     Garcia and Emily going to buy some snacks from the vendors despite the filling dinner they had not even a half and hour ago. Hotch, JJ, and Morgan pulling out their phones to facetime their families and tell them to tune into the same movie their were about watch so it would seem as if they were watching it together. Rossi striking up conversation with people around you as well as wondering around to talk to the officers. 

     Spencer opened his arms as the both of you laid down on the grass. You kissed him softly as his lips soon moved against yours. After a few pecks you broke apart and cuddled up next to him. 

     “You’re seriously the best girlfriend ever,” he said in hushed tone.

     “I know,” you said with a grin as he laughed a bit. “I hope this make up for missing-”

     “This more than makes up for it,” he cut you off, “I love you so much.”

     “I love you more, Doc.”

***

Remember to tag your piece ‘QHC2020′ or ‘Q’s Halloween Writing Challenge 2020′ if you are participating in this challenge!

Reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[dukeofonions]

The Problem With Asides

Before I get into anything I want to clarify that this is not going to be a criticism of the two Asides episodes we’ve gotten so far. This is a critique of the concept of Sanders Asides as a separate series from the original Sanders Sides. A second note I want to make is that this is, just as all my other posts are, a personal opinion. This is not meant to be an attack on anyone, just a general criticism from a confused writer and viewer of the show. 

And final disclaimer: A lot of what I’m going to say is based on information that I no longer have available. It’ll mostly be me recalling things I heard and if I at any point get something wrong please feel free to let me know. 

That being said, let’s get into this, shall we? 

(Fair warning this post is very long hence why I’ve divided it into parts so feel free to read then come back as you wish)

Part One: The Concept of Asides

Some time ago last year, I believe shortly after Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts came out, was when the idea for Sanders Asides was first announced. The basic concept of it being shorter, more lighthearted videos focusing on the Sides outside of the main storyline. This format would allow them to give us more Sides content in between the long waits for the main series since those episodes were beginning to take more time to produce. 

Of course, everyone was eager for more Sides, so the majority of people were excited. Not only that but due to the main series tackling heavier themes, the episodes were becoming more angsty with less time for the characters to just relax and goof off with each other. The idea of having episodes reminiscent of the low stakes, sillier, happier content of season one was a welcome break from the more complex episodes and would be a nice return to form for the series. 

We were also informed that these episodes would be much simpler than their main series counterparts and wouldn’t disrupt the work being done on Sanders Sides, which meant we didn’t have to worry about long gaps between the main story episodes, right? 

(Another disclaimer: I am perfectly aware of the main reason why we were not given as much content last year and am not blaming Thomas or the team for doing what was necessary to keep themselves safe and hope they continue to do so as this continues into the new year)

Jump to November 22, 2019, where we got our first official episode of Sanders Asides, roughly five months after DWIT came out. Which, for this fandom, was record time to get more content and I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly they were able to get this out. Though at the same time, I wondered why it took five months to make what was meant to be a short, simple episode. 

So imagine my surprise when I went to watch the episode and saw it was nearly 20 minutes long. Which, okay, isn’t that bad when you compare it to the lengths of the more recent Sanders Sides episodes. But at the time, I was under the impression that the Asides would be, well, much shorter. The longest I expected would be maybe 15 minutes, but you know what? It’s the first episode and it has been a while since we’ve had Sides content, so maybe they wanted to give us a little extra due to the long wait. 

I started the episode and at first, I was overjoyed when I saw the first shot of all the Sides sitting in the living room in their onesies about to have a movie night. This was exactly what I’d been hoping to see from this series! It’s pretty much a staple thing in the fandom for the Sides to have movie nights together, and now it was happening in canon! 

At the moment, I had high hopes for this series and was filled with joy. 

Then that hope and joy were immediately crushed when I realized this was yet just another Virgil-centric angst episode. In fact, this entire episode was, well, exactly like a regular Sanders Sides episode. Sure, there were some jokes here and there, but the tone of the episode was no lighter than the last Sanders Sides episode. If anything DWIT felt lighter in comparison to this one. 

Which leads me to ask, what the heck happened? 

Part Two: Literally the Same Show

At this point in time, we’ve only had two episodes of Asides. Usually, I try to hold off my judgment of a series until I’ve had at least one other episode to see if my original criticisms still stand. 

To be fair, I did think Flirting With Social Anxiety was a step in the right direction. More comedy, a lighter tone, yes. Perfect. But again, just like with Are There Healthy Distractions? This episode quickly dove right back into the angst pool, and just like ATHD it was a pretty long episode, clocking in at almost 25 minutes. 

Not only that but again, both FWSA and ATHD don’t feel any different from the episodes we’ve been getting in Sanders Sides. 

1. They’re just as angsty.

2. Roughly the same length as Sanders Sides episodes.

3. Take about just as long to produce.

4. Contain a lesson to be learned. 

Which, okay, you can have lessons in lighter shows too, but we’re already getting that in Sanders Sides and Sanders Asides was described as, well, being less plot heavy. Yet so far both episodes are still tied in with the main plot. 

ATHD deals with the aftermath of DWIT, not directly but it’s pretty obvious that the whole thing with Virgil’s reveal at the end of that episode is being addressed in the background. Which, kind of takes away the impact of that ending, but I’ll get to that later. 

Then FWSA takes place after Putting Others First and again, is dealing with things from that episode in the background. Again though, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It makes sense to see the characters dealing with things from past events.

So why is it a problem here? Because, again, Sanders Asides is meant to be a separate series, and all the subtext brought on from the episodes in Sanders Sides makes the plots in these two episodes confusing. 

For example, I was perplexed during my first watch of FWSA because I couldn’t understand why the focus of the conflict was lying. I didn’t understand why Virgil and Roman came to the conclusion that Thomas’ reason for being unable to approach Nico was because he was lying to himself, when both the title of the episode and what we were shown points more to, well, social anxiety being the problem. 

(Quick note: One could argue that this was done purposefully to have Virgil putting the blame on Janus since he doesn’t like him and wouldn’t want to admit that he was the one responsible, but this series has had a bad habit of favoring Virgil in the past so until we get more answers I’m gonna leave this on the backburner) 

It didn’t help that I had no idea when this episode was meant to take place in the timeline, and I originally thought it could take place a bit after season two since Roman and Virgil seemed to be doing better, but more on them later.

All of this bugged me until I found out that FWSA takes place after POF, and after watching the live stream that followed and getting some more context, the lying thing made a bit more sense, but the fact that I was as confused as I was just caused more frustration to build up. And I wasn’t the only one who got thrown off by the “Lying is wrong” message of FWSA so I had to ask again, why was this episode a Sanders Asides when apparently, you need information from the last Sanders Sides episode in order to understand it?

So you’re telling me, that the second episode in what is supposed to be a separate series that isn’t meant to be a part of the main plot, is now integral to the plot of the main story you’re telling in what is, as you have said, a separate show? How does that make any sense? 

Okay, one could argue that Thomas getting a love interest doesn’t really fit with the current storyline that’s going on in Sanders Sides, and that is a fair point. The problem with that is, FWSA takes place right after Putting Others First. 

You all remember what happened at the end of that episode, right?

Part Three: Intrusive Plots

At this point we’ve all become rather accustomed to the long waits in between videos, it’s nothing new to us, and for the most part they haven’t done anything to harm the current plot of Sanders Sides. Sure, the length of time between videos can cause people to lose interest, but for the most part the tone of the last three episodes of Sanders Sides hasn’t differed much and the story flow is still going along smoothly. 

Let’s start with Selfishness vs Selflessness, which is the episode that sets up the big climax for season two. It’s still got its jokes and funny moments, but the overall tone is far more serious than previous episodes have been. This carries on into DWIT where Thomas has been so stressed out lately that he’s begun to have trouble with his intrusive thoughts. 

Virgil even gives a pretty good summary of Thomas’ current mental state: “He recently realized he’s a bigger liar than he thought he was, he doesn’t understand himself, he’s committed to skipping a big callback, and he’s sleep-deprived. So yeah, he feels like a piece of dirt who has no control over his life.”

And all that was a direct result of the ending of SVS, despite DWIT not being the direct follow up to that episode the two are still intertwined. Remember that for later.

DWIT ends with the long awaited reveal of Virgil having been a “Dark Side.” Even though the majority of the fandom had figured it out by as early as Can Lying Be Good? That didn’t take away from the emotional gut punch that this scene was and it’s one of my favorite moments from the series. I may have to make a whole post breaking that scene down but what matters is that this scene was a turning point for Virgil’s character.

We’ve seen him trying to hide the truth from Thomas ever since Janus and Remus started popping up, and there were close calls with both of them nearly revealing it themselves and continuously dropping hints to Thomas. Only for Virgil to admit it to Thomas himself, and leave before Thomas can even say a word. 

We don’t know for sure how Thomas is feeling in this moment, but it’s clear he’s been shaken by this. He doesn’t really have a lot of time to process it before he remembers to acknowledge the audience and close out the video. 

This comes up again once we finally get to the monster of an episode that is POF, the follow up to SVS that everyone had been waiting over a year for. Right away we see that Patton and Roman will be at the forefront of this discussion with Logan popping up every now and then, but who doesn’t show up in this episode despite having played a role in SVS? 

Virgil. 

He’s nowhere to be seen and his absence is definitely felt. Why wouldn’t he be part of this discussion? He was there in SVS and had a lot to say on the matter, he was even part of the decision to choose the wedding over the callback! So why wasn’t he there? 

Well, just look at the ending of DWIT and there’s your answer. Of course he isn’t about to show his face after that. Not when Thomas is already under so much stress already and he isn’t sure how Thomas will react to seeing him-

*insert random voice whispering off to the side*

 Wait, Virgil has seen Thomas since DWIT? When? 

*whispers continue*

Oh, right, they interacted in Sanders Asides. How did that go again? 

*whispers explain*

Huh? Thomas said he’s cool with Virgil despite revealing that he’s been hiding something from him this whole time? That “something” being the fact that Virgil was once considered part of the others that were currently making Thomas’ life miserable?

*whispers confirm*

Really? They’re both okay with each other now? Well, good for them. 

So wait, then why didn’t Virgil show up in POF? He was there during the first discussion and honestly he’d have more of a reason to show up than Logan who wasn’t really present at all in SVS. 

*whispers explain* 

He just wasn’t need there? Hm, alright. Guess that makes sense… 

Well okay, Virgil and Thomas are on good terms once POF rolls around, Virgil isn’t present during the conversation because he isn’t needed and I suppose his presence would make things worse. Especially once Janus revealed himself, he wouldn’t allow him to get a word in. Even though Janus could probably silence him but I digress. 

Fast forward towards the ending of POF, remember when I said to remember how SVS and DWIT were connected? Well DWIT is just as important to POF, acting as a bit of bridge between to the two episodes. 

Janus brings up Remus (both directly and indirectly) twice in this episode.

First here:

 Notice how Roman’s breakdown is already being foreshadowed here, the camera focusing on him while “Logan” says this isn’t an accident. 

The second time Remus is brought up is at the very end after Janus has revealed his name:

“Oh, Roman thank God you don’t have a mustache. Otherwise between you and Remus, I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is.” 

(No I am not posting screenshots of this scene I already got emotional over the last one)

As we saw at the end of DWIT, Roman does not have a good relationship with is brother. So much so that when Thomas refers to Remus as such, Roman creates a different analogy that compares Remus to a mirror, reflecting everything Roman doesn’t want to be. 

Roman desperately wants to distance himself from Remus, not wanting anything to do with him. We’ve only gotten a glimpse of just how far this loathing goes, and part of that comes from Roman finally breaking down after being told by Janus that if it wasn’t for a mustache there’d be no difference between him and Remus.

This shook Roman more than anything else in the show has so far, moreso than him being the one to decide that Thomas should give up the callback. He was the one that pushed Thomas to make that decision, believing it was the noble thing to do, only for it to only make Thomas feel worse and then be told by Janus that his “noble sacrifice” was all for nothing. 

Janus, the one who had been supporting Roman throughout SVS, buttering him up and encouraging him to go after his dream, told him that his sacrifice was worthless. Then to top it all off Janus admits what he did and brushes it off as a joke. He doesn’t apologize to Roman, leaving him in the dust, then when Roman responds by laughing at his name he’s shot down even lower. 

And when he looks to Thomas and Patton for help, for answers, anything.

They stay silent.

Patton tries to reassure him, telling Roman that they love him, but he doesn’t believe it. He sinks out, and that’s the last we see of him.

Selfishness vs Selflessness, Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, and Putting Others First are three of the biggest (and dare I say most important) episodes in the series. The three almost act like a trilogy, with POF leading to something bigger, the season finale. Which will be culmination of all three of these episodes. 

We’ll be seeing Virgil’s reaction to Janus having been accepted by Patton and facing his own past as a “Dark Side.” Then we’ll find out what has become of Roman after he disappeared at the end of POF, and how it now affects his relationship with Thomas.

*whispers return and begin to whisper*

I’m sorry what?

*whispers repeat*

Virgil already knows about Janus getting somewhat accepted? Well okay I guess he would, wish we could have seen his reaction to that but oh well, no big deal. At least we got the Roman and Thomas confrontation to look forward to. 

*whispers whisper*

Roman has already interacted with Thomas since POF? When?!

*whisper* 

In FWSA? Oh yeah, how did that go again? It was super awkward right? Since Roman doesn’t really trust that Thomas loves or values him?

*whisperly whisper*

They get along just fine as if nothing happened? 

*whispersty*

It looks like he might still be upset with him since he’s being a bit passive aggressive? 

*whisper* 

Can’t really tell because the three are too busy trying to talk to a cute guy at the mall? 

Okay, I guess that all makes sense… 

Looks like Roman and Virgil still aren’t on the best terms with Thomas but are able to push that aside to help him talk to this handsome stranger, and hey, it worked! Thomas now has a boyfriend! Just look at Roman and Virgil at the end, they’re both so happy with Thomas! 

Looks like now they can focus on this new chapter in their life and leave the events of POF behind them. I mean, now that Roman and Virgil seem pretty cool with Thomas it would just feel weird to suddenly have them angry with him again, wouldn’t it?

Part Four: The Problem

Sanders Asides was originally described as being a series separate from the main storyline of Sanders Sides. Promising us shorter, less complicated episodes to give us a little something in between the longer, heavier episodes in Sanders Sides. This was a great idea that ended up falling apart the moment it began. 

When I was going through SVS, DWIT, and POF I mentioned that the three of them felt like a trilogy. All three of them link together to tell one bigger story, and on their own they get the job done. They set up the season finale perfectly to the point where you have an idea of what to expect and what to look forward to. 

The main things being the aftermath of Virgil’s reveal and Roman’s breakdown, which would most likely cultivate in them teaming up against Janus. This would also involve Virgil coming to terms with his past and Roman having to face Remus. 

Of course, none of this has been officially confirmed, but given everything we’ve seen up to this point it just makes sense. 

The story for season two is nearly complete, all we’re missing is the conclusion. 

Then Sanders Asides showed up and threw everything off course. What was supposed to be its own thing crept into a story that was already (for all we knew) set up and being put into place. 

We were told that the Asides wouldn’t do anything to disrupt the flow of Sanders Sides, yet it’s been confirmed that there will be one or two more episodes of Asides before we get the season finale. 

Why? Why are these episodes necessary when everything was set to move forward after POF? If these episodes are that important that they absolutely have to be made before the finale then why are they simply not part of the main series? 

You could say “Well they’re not directly tied to the main plot, that’s why.” But need I remind you that Asides as a concept was just intriduced after DWIT came out? These episodes were written specifcally for Asides, which unless I’m wrong means that they were just added into the main story with no planning whatsoever. 

FWSA honestly feels like it should have been the start of season three, something that should have waited to be introduced after season two wrapped up because it’s just too much. 

We already have so much to unpack from SVS, DWIT, and POF now we also have a new love interest on top of that? 

Virgil and Thomas’ resolution doesn’t even feel all that special because it wasn’t talked about directly between them. Thomas was indirectly letting Virgil know they were still okay, so what does that leave for us? All that build up about Virgil being a “Dark Side” only for it to be brushed over like it was nothing, and this happened in an Asides episode, not even in the main series. 

It also makes Virgil’s absence in POF confusing when they had already set up the perfect reason for him to be absent in DWIT, but according to the first episode of ATHD Virgil and Thomas are okay with each other. Sure, Virgil being there might have made things worse but at that point everyone was making things worse. 

We no longer have a confrontation between Thomas and Roman to look forward to because in FWSA we see them interacting as normal. Even the passive agressiveness isn’t anything new to Roman and really, it all just sounds super petty which he had been known to behave like that even when nothing is seriously wrong. Not only that Roman is overjoyed at the end, having finally gotten something he desperately wanted, the happy ending he deserved.

All that’s left for him is to fave his feelings towards Remus, but what would even happen there?

The problem with Asides isn’t the quality of the episodes, FWSA is actually one of my favorite episodes. The problem with Asides is that the team is taking what should have been something small and turning it into a far too elaborate for what its original purpose was: To give us more lighthearted content to enjoy in between the waits for the heavier episodes.

Instead it just feels like they’re adding onto something that really didn’t need adding on to, creating more work for themselves when it just isn’t necessary, and that worries me.

Final Thoughts

Honestly, it’s hard for me to make all these judgments when no one has any idea what the finale is going to be like. And usually, the team is able to excede my expectations and create something amazing. 

But with all these new Asides episodes that feel like they’re just being crammed in at the last second, it makes me wonder how the rest of the series will go if they continue down this road. 

Season two started September 1st, 2017, it is now January 3rd, 2021. Throughout season two the production of episodes became more elaborate, and there have been complications that arose from trying to make these videos as a result that sent production screeching to a halt. And on top of that, these Sanders Asides have been added to create even more work for Thomas and the team.

I don’t understand why they’d do this to themselves when it’s already become more difficult than ever to make videos in general, not just Sanders Sides. 

We were offered something simple that would have satisfied everyone during the difficult times, only to be given something that honestly, wasn’t even needed. I do appreciate Thomas trying to get us more content, but I don’t think he or the team realizes just how content we’d all be with just a five minute video of the characters we love just doing something as simple as hanging out and having fun, especially with how dark things have become all around us. 

We don’t always have to be watching these characters struggle, sometimes we just need to see them be genuinely happy.

(Thanks to everyone who took time to read this monster of a post, I did not mean for it to get this long but it’s been dwelling on my mind for a while and I wanted to make sure I got out everything I wanted to say. Again, this is all just a personal opinions and you are not obligated to agree with me. If you have an objecting opinion I would not mind hearing it but please keep any discussions civil.)

[krreader]

untraditional.

pairing: gryffindor!kim namjoon x slytherin!reader fandom: bts ; harry potter warnings: non idol!au ; hogwarts!au ; mentions of sex  genre: crack ; fluff ; smut word count: 2.1k+

summary: after the battle of hogwarts, the school decided to bring the rivalry houses closer together. every year, you would get a partner from your rival house and this year, you really hit the jackpot.

a/n: hiiii @namucries​, idk how this idea formed, I literally just started writing and I am so happy with it. like I actually really love the plot? lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy it bb!!!

After the battle of Hogwarts, the school decided that they needed to make some changes. Not just in regards to fortification and the likes, but to how they ran the school.

This ever growing rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor couldn’t continue any longer. If it hadn’t been like this from the beginning, then maybe this whole Draco and Harry situation could have been avoided and then maybe things would have been different. 

And so the professors had decided that each year, you’d be assigned a partner from a “rivalry” house. That was true for Slytherin and Gryffindor, but not so much for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They didn’t mind this nearly as much as you and your peers.

It was a huge deal every year. Who would be your rival partner that you were stuck with for the rest of the year? Would you be lucky and at least score some eye candy or would you be stuck with a wizard or witch that could barely hold their wand up straight? It was a surprise every year.

“I can’t believe this,” your best friend shook her head as she walked out of McGonagall’s office, “This is the fourth year in a row they’ve assigned another girl to me. I thought that now that I’m finally old enough..-“

You let out a snort, “You do know that there’s plenty of fish to catch in our own house, right?”

“Yeah, but where’s the thrill in that?” she let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, nudging her head to the door, “Fingers crossed you’re luckier than me.”

You didn’t care much about your partners. You’ve managed to avoid all previous ones on most occasions with lame excuses such as: “I’m sorry, I feel really bad today” or, “I’m so busy today, let’s study together some other time.” Most of them cared as little for you as you did for them, so it never caused an issue. Except for last year, when the guy that you were assigned to developed a crush on you and found out that you were spending your time with other Slytherin boys, rather than with him. He told on you, told the professors how you had been doing this for years - basically going against the rules - and so this year, you fully expected them to get back at you for that and assign you a partner that you’d suffer with for a year.

But the moment you entered the headmaster’s office and your eyes fell on the guy that was - apparently - your partner, you stopped walking.

“Hello there,” after a moment of staring, your confidence came back and you now smirked, “Did I just hit the jackpot?”

The guy furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the headmaster with raised eyebrows, “That’s her?!”

McGonagall let out a disapproving sigh and shook her head a little, looking at you over the rim over glasses, “Ms. (Y/L/N), do everyone in the room a favour and have a seat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” you sat down right next to the guy and licked your lips, crossing one leg over the other while continuing to grin at him.

“This is Namjoon. Your designated partner for this year. And..-“ just as you wanted to say something, McGonagall quickly continued, “This is your punishment for this year. Namjoon has been assigned Gryffindor’s headboy and you will help him with anything that he needs and wants.”

This obviously meant errands and helping Gryffindor become a stronger house. That’s what everyone else would have heard in that sentence. But you took away only two things.

“Sure, anything he needs. I’m down for that punishment,” and when McGonagall got up with an annoyed huff, you whispered, “Quite literally.”

At this point, you would have assumed the guy to blush and become intimidated, but Namjoon just smiled at you, despite it not holding any humor to it: “Does that usually work on others of my gender?”

“Don’t worry, some men need a few hours to warm up to me. I’m sure you and I will get along well,” you got up and bounced on your heels, “Thanks for this, headmaster.”

“It’s not a..- just get out,” she had enough of you.

“So.. where are we going first?” this was day one of you being Namjoon’s partner. Unfortunately, it didn’t start with a tumble in his bed, but the day was still young, “How about we go for a butter beer and get to know each other better?”

“I have friends for that,” Namjoon retorted making you stop in your tracks for a moment, but then catch up to him with a laugh.

“Oh, this is going to be so good. I love it when men aren’t shy. Makes them so much more attractive, you know?”

Namjoon let out a snort and shook his head, “Not sure you’ll think of me that way after today.”

Suddenly you came to a stop at a willow. Normally, that’d be a nice sight. Nature, grass, the sun.. But it was not like the paintings hanging in the castle that you often admired, it wasn’t a willow full of magical creatures that you could be amazed by.

It was..-

“COWS?!”

“Yep,” Namjoon grinned and pushed a bucket into your hands, “Someone needs to clean the willow, since Hagrid is away for the month. Nobody was willing to do so and since you and I got paired up, I figured I have the perfect candidate for the job.”

“What, someone to clean?!”

“Someone who is used to shit. After all, that’s all that comes out of your mouth, isn’t it?” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows at you and put his hands in the pockets of his pants, “I’ll be over there reading up for my next class if you need me.”

“Wh..- You’re not even helping me?“ but you had no option, because he was walking away and the cows were already approaching you, curious about who this new person was that had entered their willow, “Hey, stop that,” you tried to scurry away from them when they started nibbling on your shirt.

This was so not what you had hoped today to look like. Cleaning cow shit.. was Hagrid seriously the only taking care of this? Poor guy..

Still, all the while you were cleaning, you kept muttering curse words directed at Namjoon, even if he couldn’t hear them. They made you feel better. 

How dare he be so rude with you? You didn’t just talk shit, you were a great girl. Smart and well-read and.. stupid.

You straightened your back and furrowed your eyebrows, “What the hell am I doing?” you whispered to yourself.

I’m a freaking member of goddamn Slytherin. Slytherin’s don’t just clean like that, they’re too smart for that. Use your magic, you moron!

Whatever Namjoon wanted you to do, you’d bend the rules to your will as much as you wanted. What was important was that it was clean, right?

So you pulled out your wand and cast the spell that you figured would help you out most here. And indeed, after casting it for a few times, the willow looked as good as new. And with a final spell for a nice smell, you walked back to Namjoon with a smirk on your face. As in: HA, didn’t expect that one, huh?

“I’m impressed,” he smiled up at you from the ground, then got up and brushed over his pants, before saying in all honesty: “I knew there was talent slumbering somewhere within you. You shouldn’t hide it under that ‘cool kid’ facade, you know?”

“What?” you snorted, “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. It’s painfully obvious,” he shrugged, “It’s fine, you do you and all. I just think it’s a shame that you try to hide how smart you are in fear of it ruining your reputation. Because see, McGonagall didn’t just choose me as your partner because she knew I had enough errands I’d need help on, but because she knows there’s more to you than what you want everyone to believe. She thought I might be able to help you with that.”

And for the first time in forever, you had no words to that. No witty comeback and no flirty remark that you could say to that. He had seen through you on your first day of you two being together. That hasn’t happened before… ever.

“Anyways, we should go to class,” and to make you even more speechless, Namjoon took off his robe and placed it over your shoulders, since you had forgotten yours - or more likely simply opted not to wear it because you didn’t want to.

You were… so confused.

What were those feelings you were feeling right now?!

You had never cared about your rival partner in the years before, but that changed with you having been assigned to Namjoon. That first day on the willow spent together was the beginning of a, you dared to say, friendship.

He made you understand that being this sarcastic asshole wasn’t nearly as cool as you thought it was. He made you realise that you had a lot more talent than you even knew of yourself. He showed you that, even if you didn’t, he believed in you.

Your friends kept telling you how much you changed, and while some of them laughed about it at first, they all accepted you now. 

The real you that you’ve been trying to hide for so long. The girl that could be kind when need be and was incredibly smart on tests and in classes.. or in general.

But the sarcasm part? The flirty part? Your rival partner couldn’t quite get rid of that..

“Well, don’t you look dazzling,” you grinned as you spotted Namjoon at the Yule Ball. Both of you had come with different partners, but neither of these were anything more than friends.

“Right? The pants look great on me,” he complimented himself with a grin.

“True,” you pretended to think for a moment as you stared at them, then you looked at him from under your eyelashes, “But you’d look even better without them.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but let out a laugh. At this point, he had come to accept that this was just a part of you that he couldn’t change. And well.. maybe he didn’t even want it to.

“We’re here with other people, yet you’re flirting with me. Don’t you think that’s rude?”

“Not at all. And besides, I wanted you to ask me out, but you didn’t,” you pretended to be hurt by pouting your lips, “We could have had so much fun tonight.”

And see, the Namjoon that YOU knew - or at least thought you did-, would have laughed and turned around to walk away. But that man still surprised you every single day. He took a sip from his drink, then placed it on the table next to him and pushed his hands into the pockets of his dashing pants.

“We still could.”

Not the answer you had expected, same as that look that he threw you.

That look.

Before you could reply, he turned around and walked away. But instead of re-joining his date - that had since formed a little group of girlfriends around her, all laughing, thankfully - he left the ballroom.

And well… you couldn’t not follow, right?

He continued walking, even though you were sure that you knew you were only a few steps behind him, through several hallways and up several flights of stairs, until you were finally standing in front of the Gryffindor common room where he had waited for you.

“Hm.. I’m pretty sure I won’t be allowed in there,” you cocked your head to the side, “But whatever it is that you had in mind.. I’m sure it’s innocent enough for us to do right here?”

You licked your lips, then bit down on your lower lip with a grin.

Namjoon was leaning against the railing of the stairs, confidently so. He looked insanely good right there. So good that you wanted to jump on him this very moment. 

But he took the initiative.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, smashed his lips against yours and kissed you so deeply that he literally knocked the breath out of your lungs. It was a passionate kiss, tongues and teeth clashing against each other and hands already beginning to wander, despite the… not very private environment.

But this desperation only proved how much sexual attraction had been building between you two. Because as much as Namjoon had tried to hide it the first few months, he liked you as much as you liked him.. sexually at first, and then later, on a more deeper level. 

But that was another story. Right now, this was about what you needed in that moment.

“I want you,” Namjoon whispered against your lips.

“Then take me,” is what you whispered back without having to think twice about it.

And he would have. He would have pinned you against his mattress and would have pounded into you until you were screaming his name. And you would have let him. You would have begged him not to stop, because you were already sure that he was good. 

But goddamn it, the Fat Lady just had to ruin it, huh?

“Uhm, excuse me, young lads.. I tried to let you two enjoy yourselves for as long as I possibly could, but I just heard what you said and there is no way I can let you inside now.”

These stupid rules. What were the professors so scared about? Pregnancies? You were witches and wizards, you weren’t stupid enough not to know how to prevent that from happening.

You were almost certain that Namjoon would just call it a night with a heavy sigh and you’d be left horny for the rest of the night, but instead, he pushed himself off the railing and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, whispering: “Headboy’s have a lot of privileges these days, you know? The Prefects’ bathroom is open 24/7 for us to use. Us alone,” into your ear.

Well, well… there were so many things you did not know about this man and you couldn’t wait to find them all out.

[flightofaqrow]

YOUR CHARACTER IN FIVE QUOTES!

( repost, do not reblog. ) Tell us your favorite quotes from your character. Give us an idea of who they are by five things they’ve said.

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Alright, buckle up, I’m stealing this meme and repurposing it for my own use. Probably more than five, and including some quotes from others about him, though I’m going to try to keep it in groupings, and also not meant to be exhaustive of qrow’s character, but rather, to point out some very poignant lines that have effected my portrayal and... some possibly in an unpopular way compared to what I’ve seen in the fandom? I think Qrow Branwen is more complex than fitting the broody broken boi trope would give credit for (though he at least fits it as an overall stereotype).

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1) I’m absolutely sure Qrow had a rough start and transition from the tribe to ‘civilized society’, coupled with typical teenage hormones and mood swings, but generally, Beacon was a good time, and he sees himself as a good huntsman, and (though we may joke about it sometimes) he absolutely does not have an active nor passive death wish.

Yeah, yeah, I know he has a song all about how he self depreciates and carries shame, but that’s a theme of his attitude, not backed up to be every single aspect of his life by actual canon. Quite the contrary. 

I don’t know where fndm gets the idea that he constantly lost his battles (especially to Raven) or was perpetually looked down on or stayed an angsty, broody teenager (who could never possibly have ever even breathed a single happy breath on his own without Summer??) all four years. As if school was hell and he never came into his own until STRQ was a graduated unit or something? If ever?

Leo tells Raven she and her brother are evenly matched. Raven herself - who takes pride in being stronger and more clever than others - describes them as a pair: “we were good.”

“you're talking to a member of the coolest team that graduated Beacon! ...we were pretty well known back in the day. ...hey, we looked good! and I have a number of inappropriate stories to back that up!”

“let me tell ya, these kids are way better than we were at their age. ...well, not better than me, specifically...”

“a professional huntsman like myself is expected to get results as soon as possible.”

The way Qrow talks about his past, as well as carrying a memento of team STRQ around with him, it’s very nostalgic for better times. The way he talks about his work, if not himself, can actually be to the point of being self-aggrandizing, instead of depreciating. He’s even able to admit that his dreaded semblance, Misfortune, “comes in handy in a fight.”

“lots of us thought you were just layin' low. eventually, we just came to accept that you were probably dead. but the stories about you, i based my weapon off of yours. i wanted to be as good as the Grimm Reaper.”

Qrow talks about himself as striving to be better. It seems he never really sees himself as reaching that standard, but it certainly implies he knows he’s not at the bottom - he had an ideal he wanted to reach and likely worked towards. Notice the use of “us” and “we” as well - he talks about himself as part of a group of larger huntsfolk circles. Who knows if this refers to students or licensed professionals or both, but this heavily, heavily implies that he was more than just a sad, outside loner, at least for a time; he chatted with others and traded stories about goings-on and missions and idols.

Somewhat related and leading into...

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2)  At least around this blog, Qrow does not have an inferiority complex because of Raven.

Does he have some internalized shame about being soft that he can’t quite shake? A few insecurities about being unwanted compared to her natural leadership and competence? Yes. Does he consciously view himself as lesser than her? No. 

Also... he’s not co-dependent on her. To a degree, for while? Yeah, there was probably an unhealthy reliance going on there. But Qrow and Raven establish themselves with their own identities at some point, they’d have to, to chose different paths so stubbornly. There’s a rift there, eventually, if not always having been at odds in some ways and comfort in others.

“Raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that I don't particularly agree with. [The weak die, the strong live. Those are the rules.]”

“...they were killers and thieves.”

We are shown that the twins were raised with this weak/strong dichotomy. Raven bought into it, but Qrow explicitly separates himself from that belief. Shown again when he mocks Raven with, “because that was your rule, right?”

He believes in true family, he believes in protecting the weak, he believes in doing good, he believes in standing up for what’s right. He may not like being emotionally vulnerable, but he shows softness and kindness to others, and for as much as he likes his flourish when fighting, he also isn’t afraid to look an absolute fool either.

He is shown de-escalating conflict time and again, even if he also falls back into violent, defensive patterns at times, too. He resents Raven for the choices she made, and as far as I interpret, thinks she’s the lesser one for running away and abandoning her family and her mission. (Meanwhile, she thinks the same of him for turning his back on the tribe.)

He all but spits on the tribe’s way of life, is willing to attack them outright to get the Spring Maiden. Why would he judge himself by those standards any longer? No, he lives by his own code, a huntsman’s code, and even has some pride in that. It’s why he can call Clover out on it. It’s why he folds when Robyn holds him to it.

It’s why it hurts when he finds out what gave him more meaning, aligned more with his own heart, than the tribe’s dogma may not actually have any purpose at all...

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3) There’s so much to unpack here:

“No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good... Meeting you... was the worst luck of my life...”

No one wanted him? I believe this means the tribe, maybe even Raven, maybe trying to make friends, but no one until Oz? Does this include STRQ? I have trouble reconciling that one with everything else we’re shown. I still maintain he was part of bigger circles, but we get confirmation that these were probably fleeting or superficial. He knew people and was known, but no one stuck around.  Also more confirmation of his values. Gave me a place sounds like so much more than refocusing to me. It’s not gave me a direction, not told me what to do, it’s took who i am and gave that person a place to thrive - despite the bad that comes with - to work towards something better. Just like he always wanted.

But then he backtracks. What is it he regrets?  We do know how he likes to go into dramatic hyperbole about these things when he’s upset. [eg. “we’re not family anymore.” “i shouldn’t have come. i shouldn’t have let any of you come.” “we can kill the man who put us here.” “gone. like everybody else.”] (I love that crwby lets their characters do it. we all say things we don’t mean in the moment, give voice to those intrusive thoughts.)

I’ve talked before about how I picture him having flashes of all the lives he could have had instead. Would he have gone back with Raven and at least still had her? Would he just have been a normal huntsman defending people from Grimm without the crushing extra knowledge? Might he have been able to have a relationship or family of his own had he not signed up for the vagabond spy life? Does he just resent losing Summer and Raven because of how things went down? We don’t know, and I think the point is that he probably doesn’t either, but the weight of sacrificing all those alternatives and putting so much faith in Ozpin, stacking so much of his life’s work and identity on being part of the inner circle, comes crashing down on him all at once. 

also quite fitting...

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4) "Nice place to raise a family. ...If you're ...into that sort of thing."

This is from his World of Remnant narration, talking about Patch, but it hits so damn hard. The softness and warmth in the first half of the statement, followed by the harsh need to qualify it in regards to his own outlook... We learn all we need to know about his opinion of the subject. 

We see the conflict right there - the possibility of such a thing brings a wholesome lilt to his voice, yet he implies that it’s not something he personally intends to pursue. Is that because he doesn’t want it or because he thinks he can’t or shouldn’t have it? I don’t think that’s clear, and he may not know either. 

At the very least, I fall into the camp of him believing he doesn’t want it. Combine that with the fact that he does pick up that spy life, which makes keeping his distance a necessity, and makes settling down near impossible, and then he definitely knows it’s not in the cards for him. 

So I think it ultimately falls somewhere between. Why would he make the commitment to being a lone spy if he had dreams of love and a family? ...But then why would he resent making the sacrifice of that possibility later if he didn’t? 

Having his nieces around probably softened him up to the idea, but he’d already made his decision by that point. He’s also solid and generally happy with his choices at the point it would most matter. He’s married to his job. He’s fulfilling his missions well, in well-suited ways for his strengths and flaws. He has his nieces around as a balm on any sort of biological clock. He has his purpose with Oz.  Until he doesn’t.

This is an incredibly long-winded way of restating that one of the headcanon hills I do stand to die on is: Gray-romantic Qrow.

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5) “some people are just born unlucky... my semblance isn't like most - it's not exactly something i... do.”

I am constantly confused by the amount of people trying to do character analysis around Misfortune and Qrow based on standard semblance lore, when he has yet again stated explicitly to the contrary. We all have carte blanche ya’ll. We can do whatever we want with this, because he’s already told us his semblance breaks the rules. 

My full headcanon for it is here and my opinion about the direction I hope it takes is here but tl;dr

Unless we learn otherwise, there are very, very few ways I believe Misfortune is a reflection of Qrow’s soul, if at all. This is from the first headcanon, but it’s worth restating, because it’s important to me, aaand fits the theme of pulling in some quotes from other characters:

Everyone likes to quote Ren and his description of someone’s personality being incorporated into a semblance. I don’t buy it for qrow. Here’s the FULL quote: “A common philosophy is that a warrior’s Semblance is a part of who they are. Some say your personality and character can define your Semblance while some claim that it is the other way around. Of course, there are still many who don’t see a connection at all.”

So unless we find out otherwise I will also die on the hill that qrow is an example of the middle part. Qrow’s personality/soul has nothing to do with why his semblance is what it is, but being forced to grow up and live with Misfortune has defined him tremendously.

OKAY, there are some smaller quick ones, but I’ll stick to my five points like I promised at least, and maybe do a lesser version some other time. :]

[s-creations]

The Caring from Others

Gyro has never been good with emotions or understanding people. His younger years not helpful in those categories as he grew up. Good thing life wasn't ready to let him throw in the towel just yet.

Fandom: Ducktales ‘17         Rating: General Audience         Relationships/Pairings: Gyro Gearloose/Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, Fenro       Warnings/Tags: Other characters are mentioned, How do emotions work? We’re learning today!, A little OOC.

The Father

Gyro doesn’t recall his childhood fondly.

Growing up in a small, back water farming town. A place where advancements, anything ‘new’, was labeled as dangerous. Deemed bad for everyone involved. His parents were less than thrilled when Gyro announced he wanted to become a scientist.

It wasn’t ‘honest work’.

A profession of false tests to make the common folk fearful of everything.

To make them more dependent on the government.

Even if Gyro suggested creating improved tools. Better way to help the farmers in making their jobs easier. Even safer. Every suggestion was just shot down. His parents claimed if their way had worked so well for so long, why change anything?

For 15 year Gyro had to work in secrecy. Knowing if any glimmer of creativity was found, it would be destroyed. Stomped out before it could reach their full potential. Salvation came when, after turning in so many applications, he was accepted into a high level university. Full scholarship and all. Everything was paid for, there was nothing to worry about.

Gyro should have felt some sting when his parents put up no fuss as he left. Happily letting their misfit son go off on his own journey. But Gyro honestly felt nothing but relief as he left that farmhouse behind for good.

While he now had the freedom to create in the open, university had its own issues to contend with. Like being mocked by his peers. Gyro was young and already set up with terrible social skills. It wasn’t better when fellow students deemed it a high priority to ostracize the chicken.  The other students weren’t thrilled that someone younger than them had accomplished so much in their early years. The chicken’s ideas being scoffed at when he presented or attempted to make some connection. Gyro was sure he would have dropped out long ago if not for the continuous support and offered safety from his professors.

It was during Gyro’s last year of university that he was introduced to Dr. Akita. Properly introduced anyway. Gyro was well aware of the other long before this meeting. Having studied the scientist’s work extensively. It was almost like a dream come true when Gyro was offered an internship. A way to work with his idol directly.

How quickly it all turned into a nightmare.

2-BO was Gyro’s biggest accomplishment and regret. The chicken labeled as a mad scientist and abandoned by Akita when the chicken’s creation went rogue. Gyro was thrusted into a world he had no idea how to traverse. He was turned away from every opportunity. All knowing his history, fearful of what damage he was still capable of.

Gyro couldn’t blame them for being so concerned. He was honestly fearful of his own inventions at this point.

It was a surprise when Scrooge McDuck of all people reached out to him. Wanting Gyro to present his ideas to the billionaire and his board members. It was a mounting pile of nerves that was continuously being added to as the day drew closer. The chicken was honestly shocked that he didn’t pass out while presenting. Or from the unnerving quiet when Gyro finished. The buzzards looked unimpressed. Which did not help Gyro’s as yellow eyes stared him down.

“Mr. McDuck, this was a complete waste of time,” the buzzard from the middle spoke, “We are not in need of new hires for the production line. Especially not one with such a...dangerous past.”

Gyro swallowed weakly.

“Nonsense. Who ever said about having Dr. Gearloose here to be part of our regular R&D team.” Scrooge commented casually. He stood from his large, cushioned chair. Making his way over to the quietly panicking scientist. “I’ve been in the market for a personal inventor for awhile now.”

“Please do not tell me this is for your wild excursions sir.”

“Bradford, you’re too worried about keeping finances. Personal and monetary gain cannot be achieved at the same time. I have enough monetary value...for the moment. Now is the time for personal gain.”

“If you are so determined to do this. Could you at least get someone less dangerous.”

Scrooge slammed his cane down. Causing all in the room to flinch.  “How can we expect growth if we cling to the past. Dr. Gearloose cannot be given redemption with no opportunity. I’ve seen his work. Both the bad and the good. I want him working with me.”

“Then I request a trial period. I would like to see a working, safe invention from the doctor here. If he does that, I won’t bring this up again.”

With a smirk, Scrooge gave a nod before facing Gyro. Who’d been honestly confused through the entire ordeal. Who just argues so freely with their boss?

“What do you say Dr. Gearloose? Think you’re up for the task?”

Steeling himself, Gyro gave a short nod. “Yes. Absolutely.”

He could do this. He knew he could. How many ideas had he sketched out when he was younger? Surely there were a number of inventions he could use to impress the board.

The good news was he was right. He was able to dig up multiple sketchbooks he had filled out from his college days that had yet to be used. Now came the trying task of deciding which invention he was going to use. One that was impressive enough to blow those buzzards away. But he could easily make it within the offered window of time. And that it was safe.

He wished Mr. McDuck would have been more forward with what he was looking for. The chicken would at least have a starting point.

Gyro really thought he had a winner when the month was up. More than a little confident when he entered the boardroom, all eyes on him. Giving his presentation with as much vibrato as he could. It was all going, in his mind, quite well. Even Mr. McDuck looked a little smug for Gyro’s success.

Then the machine was turned on.

It gave a warning whine, Gyro actually leaning in to see what the issue was. Letting out a choking sound as he was pulled back by Scrooge’s cane. All taking cover when the invention exploded. Leaving the pedestal it had been resting on and the wall behind it with dark scorch marks.

Gyro felt absolutely sick. Wide eyes staring at the spot where his achievement once sat. Only looking away when Bradford slammed his hands down.

“Unacceptable! Even a simple request created something so dangerous. I am putting my foot down on this Mr. McDuck.” The buzzard huffed as he stared Gyro down.

Scrooge, on his part, merely seemed unfazed by it all. Taking the time dust himself off. Pulling Gyro up and straightening him out as well before speaking. “Dr. Gearloose. Would you mind waiting for me in the labs. I need to have a quick discussion with the board.”

Gyro merely nodded. His voice stuck in his throat as he made his way to the elevator. Arms and stomach heavy with his failure. He knew he was fired. His one opportunity was gone. Gyro realized this was his best and only chance at getting any sort of job. A scientist who’s inventions caused more damage and cut off by Scrooge McDuck? Gyro would be lucky if he got a job at Radio Hut after all of this.

He collapses into the first chair he could find in the lab. Laying his glasses on a nearby flat surface and rubbing his temples. At this point in his life, Gyro wasn’t as emotionally blocked as he would later become. But he was learning that breakdowns were seen as weaknesses.

By his parents.

By his classmates.

By Dr. Akita.

So while he wanted nothing more than to hide away. Let this moment of emotional sorrow pass naturally and move on. Gyro had been conditioned to hold it in. Because what scientist falls apart?

He let out a slow breath as the elevator announced it’s arrival. Glasses on and standing as Scrooge made a direct line for him. While showing emotions weren’t allowed, Gyro learned that groveling was acceptable. Something Dr. Akita was quick to teach.

“I am sorry,” Gyro said quickly, “It wasn’t my intention for it to explode.”

“I had assumed so.”

“If given another chance-”

“Lad, you’re not fired.”

Gyro swallowed weakly. Stunned by the name and the announcement. “But...I almost killed everyone.”

“That’s a tad extreme. We would have been maimed. But kill? Doubtful.”

“It exploded!”

“I’ve experienced worse.”

“Mr. McDuck, with all due respect, you’re insane.”

Scrooge waved his hand. “No matter. Why don’t you take a seat.”

Doing as asked, Gyro looked up nervously, hands clenched together as he waited.

“As stated before, you’re not fired. Even after your explosive debut. I know Bradford is a stickler for keeping things ‘safe’. It’s one of the reasons I hired him onto the team. But he doesn’t understand that needed balance of risk and reward. I’m aware of your past. Which I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about at this point. We are our own worst critics. But I also know of your successes, your numerous successes.”

“I want to see you succeed. You deserve to see yourself succeed. I want to give you that opportunity. We’ll need to make sure you can give something to Bradford on occasion to keep him placated. But, other than that, you will have full creative freedom. How does that sound?”

Gyro swallowed hard, trying to keep himself stable. No longer fearful. Now extremely happy. However, he kept himself in check to remain professional. “Honestly, it’s too good to be true.”

Scrooge merely laughed. Clapping a hand on Gyro’s shoulder. “Well, get over that starstruck feeling quick lad. You have a lot of work ahead of you. I trust you can manage from here.”

As he watched Scrooge head back towards the elevator, Gyro realized something. “Um, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Your bet, with Bradford, you didn’t technically win.”

“Technically yes.”

“So...shouldn’t I be fired?”

A smirk appeared on the billionaire’s face, eyes seeming to shine. “Bradford needs to use his words better. He said if he wasn’t impressed, he wouldn’t discuss not keeping you. He never out right said I had to fire you. So, unfortunately, we’ll still need to hear his complaints. But he can’t fire you unless he gives me a good reason. Which I doubt he’ll be able to give.”

“I...thank you, Mr. McDuck.” Gyro weakly answered in disbelief.

“Don’t thank me. Just be the scientist I know you can be.”

“I will sir!”

Turning in the elevator to face Gyro, Scrooge gave a nod and smile. “I know lad. I trust you.”

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The Brother

Gyro has always been a loner. He worked best this way. He was able to focus and didn’t have to constantly worry if his partner was doing their work properly. Plus, no one had really tried to include him in anything during his younger years. So he learned that working alone was better for him.

He was very much against the idea of having an intern working in his lab. Which Scrooge flat out refused to take Gyro’s refusal. Meaning the chicken couldn’t deny the hired help no matter how loudly he complained. With the unfortunate addition of the possible literal rendition of sunshine named Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera being hired a few weeks later. Which also meant an increased number of ‘visitors’ to this dangerous lab to see the brown duck. Doing nothing to help Gyro’s frantic state of keeping everything safe and making sure nothing became evil.

Scrooge was a common person to see there. After all, he owned the lab and it was attached to his place of work. Why wouldn’t he arrive to check on progress. To be shown what Gyro was working on. Now, however, the billionaire invited himself in to also check on Fenton. To make sure the intern was actually doing scientific research and not just cleaning the floors.

Launchpad had become friends with Fenton after that B.U.D.D.Y incident. The idiotic driver deciding that wasting time discussing some childhood show was perfectly fine. Gyro honestly tried to not become infuriated. But did he have to waste the interns' time! Even if the chicken didn’t want help from the other. It was the principle of the matter.

This also caused the blue nephew (Dew- something, whatever) to join Launchpad in the lab. Two children or beings with childlike personalities running around in the lab. A place filled with dangerous equipment. It was the perfect place to socialize in, Gyro sarcastically muttered to himself. And Scrooge actually encouraged it! Saying social engagement was good for both Fenton and Gyro. As if the chicken wanted to talk to someone who didn’t know what NaCl was.

So even he was surprised when he started to form a connection with Huey Duck. The red cladded nephew first started showing up to visit Fenton originally. The duckling particularly enamored with the scientist/superhero. Both talking for hours about new upgrades they could possibly make to the suit.

“With you permission, of course! D-Dr. Gearloose.” Fenton would assure with a sheepish smile. Which Gyro would respond with a mere rolling of his eyes.

As time went on and Fenton started to leave more and more due to hero calls, Huey started following Gyro around. The duckling deciding he wouldn't want to leave the labs quiet yet. And Huey wanted to pick the head scientist’s brain with his own ideas. At first, Gyro assumed his ‘wonderful’ personality would drive the other away. Huey, however, didn’t seem to care.

“You don’t have any siblings, do you.”

Gyro raised a brow at that. “Uh, no. At least I didn’t when I was actually living at home. At this point in my life, who knows. What’s your point.”

“My point being that your sullen attitude will have no effect on me. I’m the oldest of three. So, I have to deal with younger brothers. Sour attitudes are an old trick.”

“There really is no getting rid of you.”

“Nope.”

Gyro won’t lie, it was aggravating at first. He already had a shadow in the form of Fenton. Now the chicken was settled with another one that liked to constantly talk and didn’t fear him. Gyro only gave proper notice to the duckling when Fenton came to him with an upgrade for the Gizmosuit. One that sounded good.

“I thought you were busy with your toothbrush idea. When did you have time to think of this?”

“Actually, Huey came up with this.” Fenton answered.

“The red triplet?”

The duck smiled softly. “He’s been around here enough times. I think you can refer to him by his name.”

The chicken wasn’t overly fond of this idea. In his mind, the use of a name means Gyro cared enough to remember. And caring meant he wasn’t truly focused on his work. Something Akita was very adamant that Gyro learned.

But look where Gyro was now. Abandoned by his mentor.

Maybe Fenton was onto something. That felt strange to say.

“Very well. Perhaps I’ll have to try it your way.” Gyro was hit with a wave of confusion by the sudden sweeping sensation that went through his stomach. Fenton’s smile seeming to hit differently that day. But the head scientist filed that sensation away under ‘a later problem’.

Gyro should not have felt a sense of accomplishment seeing Huey’s eyes light up upon hearing his name. The chicken should have cut ties when the triplet sheepishly asked if Gyro could review Huey’s science project. And there should have been no sickening, worry feeling entering his veins when Huey arrived to the labs one day with a black eye.

Fenton, being the caring overbearing person he was, instantly panicked. “Huey! What happened to you? Are you alright?”

Gyro scoffed. “Of course he isn’t. He’s injured.”

“Do we have ice packs?”

“Freezer in the break room. I’ll get the first aid.” The chicken gestured for Huey to follow him. The duckling doing so without complaint. “Come on, take a seat. I need to see where else you’ve been hurt.”

Huey gave no response. Which was starting to become worrisome. The duckling was covered with small cuts and bruises. Gyro thankful it wasn’t worse… Because he didn’t want to waste the resources! Of course. What else would he be talking about.

Fenton came rushing back in. An ice pack wrapped in a hand towel was pressed against the black eyes. “Leave that there for a while. Do you need some pain medicine?”

“Already taken care of,” Gyro answered once again, “Now that all of that’s been taken care of. I think we’re owed an explanation.”

“Dr. Gearloose, just give him a moment.”

“I would like a reason for why Huey,” darn it Gyro said the name, “came to us instead to one of his uncle’s or other family members.”

“He can tell us when he’s ready. Give him a chance to relax.”

“And he can when he tells us- me what’s going on right now.”

“Dr. Gearloose-”

“I was able to skip a level in science.” The adult fell quiet hearing Huey’s whispered response.

“What?”

Huey gestured to his discarded bag. To which Fenton grabs it, handing it over. The duckling opened it and pulled out a familiar notebook that had been shoved into Gyro’s face numerous times. One that held Huey’s numerous sketches and ideas. Except it was destroyed. Practically torn to shreds, almost unrecognizable from what the head scientist had seen before.

“I showed my teachers my notebook. They were really impressed and talked to the principal about me skipping a level. It’s so I could enter the science fair that the upper level students can participate in. They said I had a lot of potential. Uncle Donald was happy, I was happy. My brothers teased me, but I know they were happy for me. I was kind of...blinded by my eagerness, I was under the assumption everyone would just be...okay with this.”

“Your classmates…” Gyro meant to have it sound like a statement. It instead sounded like a sickening realization.

But Huey merely nodded before continuing. “They’ve been writing things on my desk. Throwing things at me. I’ve been ignoring it…”

“Have they...hurt you before?” Fenton asked.

“No. I think they were tired that they hadn’t been getting a response from me like they wanted.”

“Have you told your uncle about this?”

“No… He’s already having a hard time finding a job and fixing the boathouse. I was hoping if I just ignored them, they’d leave me alone. ...I think I’m going to just drop back down to my grade level.”

“You are not going to let those punks win,” Gyro was surprised that he didn’t flinch as two sets of eyes snapped to him, “If you just go running back to your previous classes, you let them win. You’ll give them more fuel to think their actions are right. Especially if you haven’t told anyone about this. There will be no repercussions and they’ll continue to be terrible little creatures.”

“What do I do then?” Huey asked.

“You’re going to tell your uncle, your teachers, your principal, everyone you can. You’re going to come back with even better ideas. And This is a fight you can win because you have support. People who care about you...or something mushy like that.”

Huey gave a nod, rubbing his good eye and giving a blinding smile. “Okay...thank you, Dr. Gearloose.”

Gyro didn’t squirm weakly under the adoring look being sent his way. Or feel any sort of warmth blossoming in his chest knowing he’d helped in some way. Or become flustered at the smile aimed at him by Fenton, who’s eyes seemed to shine with happiness.

“I also know a side step that can break a femur. Very useful to know.”

“Dr. Gearloose!”

A few days later, Huey returned to the labs. Bright eyed and eager to show off his idea. No longer supporting injuries or secrets.

Gyro felt another save of fluster when Huey hugged his legs while Fenton laughed softly as he watched.

_____________________________

The Son

Gyro was surprised so much could change in one day. Well...one day-ish. It was more like three. Point being it felt as if all events had transpired in one day.

2-BO, now named Boyd, entered his life once more. The real boy having befriended Huey. Because of course that’s who would meet Gyro’s used-to-be biggest regret. Then he returned to Tokyolk after 10 years with Fenton, Huey, and Boyd in tow. The original intention was to destroy (Selene above he felt sick thinking about it now) Boyd. Get rid of his past.

Only for his entire perspective to be flipped. The mentor he thought was on his side had corrupted Gyro’s creation. Boyd was never given an option in his original purpose. Turned into a war machine that the chicken never wanted. And Gyro himself realized he was not the mad scientist so many had labeled him as.

He will admit, it was by sheer dumb luck and tapping into emotions he was sure had shriveled up long ago that it all ended so well. Akita was arrested. Going to be put to trial and allowing Gyro a chance to properly clear his name. Boyd overrode all corrupted coding, both Akita’s and Mark’s. Becoming the real little boy he was meant to be. All surviving and heading back home to Duckberg. As he rested in the cushioned plane seat, Boyd resting on his lap, Gyro was hit with two realizations.

The first topic (one which he honestly wanted to focus on much, much later) was an understanding of what Fenton meant to him. Between the fear of possible death and the burn of betrayal, Gyro had felt a deep distress watching the duck fight for his life. Fenton had given his all to protect the city and the citizens. And it almost cost him his life. Something Gyro never wanted to see again. The reason why was something that the chicken was not fully ready to review. Not yet. Possibly in the future, at some point. But he had another problem he needed to worry about now.

The second worry was equally confusing. Possibly because Gyro was still emotionally backed up. He wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen to Boyd. Gyro was made aware by Huey that the other real boy had been living with the Drake’s. A pompous rich family with an arrogant and rather disturbing child. A setting Gyro didn’t want Boyd growing up in. But what was the other option? Gyro himself? Someone who’s never known a stable family life and is not even close to the person Boyd once knew.

He could barely care for himself if Gyro was honest. Living off of multiple cups of coffee and cheap instant noodles. His sleep schedule was non-existent. Social skills were laughable. Gyro had honestly nothing to offer. It was terrible that there was not a better solution to all of this. Boyd deserved so much better than whatever his current care taking options could offer.

Gyro was shocked when, only a few days later, Boyd announced he wanted to live with the scientist.

“I- why?” Gyro winced at how harsh he sounded. But Boyd merely smiled back.

“I just found you. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Well, how was he supposed to say no to that? Gyro’s second bedroom, which once housed numerous boxes, was turned into a proper living space. He lived by a schedule that revolved around Boyd’s activities. Researching meals that both could enjoy and even learning how to properly cook. It was strange, but very rewarding. Gyro didn’t think it would affect him so much.

Until Fenton pointed it out.

“You’re really happy.”

It was a casual comment. But it gave Gyro pause. “What?”

Fenton stalled at that, flushing softly. “Sorry, I mean… I just noticed you seemed to be smiling more. And you’re more relaxed. You’re eating better and well rested. You just look really happy.”

Gyro leaned back in his chair. Tapping his pen as he thought the statement over. “I...suppose I am. Boyd really had changed me for the better, I think. Isn’t it strange...he was once my biggest regret. Now, I can’t see him not being in my life. I do worry that I’m not doing enough. Or that I won’t be what Boyd needs.”

Gyro flushed softly feeling a hand benign placed on his shoulder. Looking up at the beaming face Fenton. “You’re doing a wonderful job Gyro. Don’t doubt yourself.”

The scientist did all he could to not melt into the floor. He takes Fenton’s words to heart. Gyro had worked with Fenton long enough to know the duck wasn’t one to just give false praise. So, if Fenton thought the chicken was doing well, who was Gyro to question the given conclusion.

Gyro’s resolve was truly tested when he received a call from the school Boyd was attending. Apparently the real boy had been in a fight. A fight fight with another student.

Hearing this caused Gyro to panic. Worrying that possibly, maybe, the corrupted programming had returned. Wondering what could have happened for Boyd to act like this. Had Gyro said something sarcastic that the real boy had taken to heart? Was Boyd going to be taken away? Was this a sign that Gyro was not fit to be a caretaker?

The chicken was brought out of his spinning thoughts when someone grabbed his shoulders. Eyes connected to Fenton’s, who’s looking was concerning.

“Dr. Gearloose, you need to calm down. You’re drawing a conclusion with so little context. Just go to the school and hear what happened. Then you can react appropriately.”

“Right… Right, I need to get there.” The chicken mumbled weakly, eyes now frantically scanning the lab for his car keys. Fenton came to the rescue again when said items suddenly appeared in his hands.

“How about I drive.”

“...Yeah. That’s probably for the best.”

The drive was quiet. Fenton focused on the road while Gyro internally panicked. All too soon they were pulling into the school’s parking lot. The area was relatively empty as they walked up to the front entrance. Fenton made a quiet comment about the teachers having to park behind the building. It was a bit of a shock to run into Donald. The duck looked close to an angry snap.

“Hello Mr. Duck.” Fenton offered a smile.

“Fenton,” Donald’s eyes went to Gyro, “Boyd?”

Gyro nodded. “He was apparently in a fight. What about you?”

“Huey.”

What was going on?

The three walked in together, being directed by the secretary to where the principal’s office was. Dewey and Louie were waiting outside. The triplets wearing concerned looks when they looked over to the approaching adults. Donald gave them each a hug with a few words of encouragement before knocking on the imposing door. Gyro’s hand instantly shot out and grabbed onto Fenton’s as his heart raced. The duck gave no complaint. Even giving an encouraging squeeze as they walked in.

The large desk was the first thing to note. Large and imposing, telling all that the person sitting behind it to be respected. Even if the principal himself was a frail little bird. To the right sat a large bulldog boy supporting an arm with fabric wrapped around it. Gyro assumed there was a scrap of some kind underneath the fabric. A wiry female was dotting over the child while a brick wall of a man standing behind them both with his arms crossed.

To the left sat Huey and Boyd. The real boy seemed unharmed. Just appearing extremely nervous and worried. Huey, on the other hand, was supporting a black eye. A bag of ice already pressed on the injury. Gyro needed to research if there were long term effects of multiple black eyes.

Donald instantly broke away from the three, bending down to check on Huey. Gyro walked over to Boyd. Still having a hold on Fenton’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Gyro frantically asked. To which Boyd gave a sharp nod and fell still again. Deciding that was enough of an answer for now, the scientist moved himself and Fenton to behind the seats.

“Thank you all for coming,” the principal began, “I realize this was all on short notice. But we do not tolerate fighting. According to numerous student witnesses, there was a verbal dispute that turned violent during recess. One that resulted in Dennis benign pushed and Huey receiving a black eye. Before I continue, I will ask that you hold all comments and questions until the end. Is this agreeable?”

All adults nodded.

“Very well.” Reaching for something in his drawer, the principal pulled out a cell phone protected by a faded green case. “Louie Duck was able to record the incident and it lines up with the events the other students have provided. Dennis here was apparently using verbal harassment and inappropriate language against Boyd. To which Huey attempted to defuse the situation by walking away. Dennis has responded by throwing a punch. To what ends, I’m unsure, and Dennis has not provided an answer for his actions.”

The chair Huey was sitting in let out a loud noise of protest. Donald gripping the back of it tightly.

“And you well to continue, Mr. Duck?”

Donald nodded.

“Very well. Boyd here reacted to this by pushing Dennis away. The scrap on his arm caused by his fall. Mr. and Mrs. Morris, I’m unsure as to where your son has learned such language and actions. I would advise you to seriously monitor the media and outside influence your son consumes.”

“Oh absolutely,” Mrs. Morris answered readily, “Don’t you fret. We will have a stern talking to Dennis when we get home.”

“That is good to hear. Now, does anyone have any questions about this matter.”

“What exactly did young Dennis here say to Boyd. If I may ask.” Gyro’s voice was even. But, if Fenton squeezing his hand was any indication, his tone was dripping with venom.

“I won’t say specifics as I don’t wish to repeat them. Dennis was making comments about Boyd’s...past. Something about him being dangerous. As well as some...homophobic comments.”

Fenton squeezed Gyro’s hand again, the chicken shaking now. With fear or rage, he couldn’t tell. His own attention had snapped over to Mr. Morris. The father still having his arms crossed and imposing. But Gyro noticed the other’s eyes flitted down to Gyro’s and Fenton’s joined hands. The scowl seemed to become deeper once the father was caught in the action.

“I see. I’m very concerned as to where Dennis would have picked up language like that.” Gyro held eye contact with Mr. Morris until the principal cleared his throat.

“If there are no more questions… Mr. and Mrs. Morris, the actions, both verbal and physical, cannot go unpunished. We do not tolerate this kind of behavior. Dennis will be given one weeks suspension. As well as a written apology letter to both Huey and Boyd. I would also recommend setting up some meetings with the school counselor.”

“Understandable, very reasonable.” Mrs. Morris nodded while Mr. Morris was shaking with, no doubt, rage.

“Very well. Mr. Gearloose-”

“Dr. Gearloose.”

“Ah, apologizes. Dr. Gearloose, I’m aware Boyd was merely defending Huey. However-”

“You’re going to give him detention because he pushed Dennis. Defending himself in a violent way.”

“Ah...yes. Huey will receive no punishment. I hope we’re all understanding of this course of action?” Another round of sharp nods, “Very well, I won’t keep you all any longer. Mr. Duck, here is Louie’s phone. Thank him for providing me with his phone. All are excused for the rest of the day.”

It was tense walking out. The Morris’ were leading the way. But Gyro kept a tight grip on Fenton as Mr. Morris kept glancing back with a dark scowl. Something Gyro was not a fan of. It didn’t reach a head until they entered the parking lot. Away from the front doors and the cameras.

Mr. Morris turned and stalked over to the mismatched group. Gyro more than ready for the awaiting confrontation.

“I know you, Gearloose. I’ve seen your name in the paper before. You’re an absolute menace in every possible way.” Eyes darted back down to the still clasped hands.

“Yet I’ve accomplished more than you could ever hope for in your miserable life. Your need for constant approval has clearly made you bitter. Because you’d rather stomp out any spark of joy than attempt to change yourself or your family. If this incident was any indication.”

Mr. Morris let out a low growl. Gyro fully expecting to be decked as well. Only to be shocked when Fenton stepped between the two. The larger looking down with a raised brow.

“And who are you.”

“He’s my emotional support duck.” Gyro answered.

“Do you really think a confrontation on school grounds will reflect well in any way,” Fenton said, “I would suggest you step away from this now.”

Mr. Morris popped his shoulder, his scowl set. From behind, Mrs. Morris gave a clear and harsh cough. Her husband benign sent a hard stare of his own when he turned to look back. It was a silent, but brief conversation between the two of them that ended with the husband shuffling back over to his family. No one from the group relaxed until the pink mini-van drove away from the parking lot.

“So what exactly was your plan here?” Gyro frowned at Fenton, “I don’t see the Gizmoduck armor on you.”

“My body reacted before I could really...think.” The duck laughed sheepishly.

The head scientist merely rolled his eyes before turning to Boyd. Who looked back with worried eyes. “You okay?”

The real boy shifted nervously. “He called me a weapon and...I really tried not to fight. I tried to ignore him. But he...he pushed Huey and I got really mad… What if he was right?”

“He absolutely is not right.”

“Gyro.” Fenton whispers, in the same tone that told the chicken he was sounding harsh. The head scientist was thrown off for a moment hearing his name and not his normal title. Tuck that moment of broken mind away for later.

Gyro let out a slow breath before kneeling down and placing a hand on Boyd’s shoulder. “Boyd, you know who you are. I know who you are. You are not a weapon or a mindless machine. You are a real little boy. And you need to remember that, because you are going to meet a lot of people like Dennis. Closed minded and very ignorant. Saying anything they can to make you feel miserable and make them feel better.”

“However...you have people in your life who know you. Truly know you. Those are the people you need to listen to. Because they are going to make sure you believe in yourself. Understand?”

Boyd blinked as he thought the statement over. Eyes darting over to Huey, the triplets watching as Donald shouted at someone over the phone. No doubt having called up the principal or someone higher up in the schooling system to complain about the interaction in the parking lot. The red cladded triplet looked over to Boyd, giving a small smile and a wave. Which the real boy returned happily.

“I understand, Dad.”

Gyro swallowed weakly, pulling the small form closer while trying to keep his emotions in check. A weight on his shoulder drew his attention back to Fenton. Who had bent down as well with a smile on his face. The chicken smiled back in appreciation.

_____________________________

The Lover

Gyro knew this realization was a long time coming. No matter how many times he tried to deny it. Tell himself emotions were useless weights. He reached the point where he couldn’t hide the fact any longer.

Gyro had fallen in love with Fenton.

Which is not something he really wanted to focus on.

Gyro was sure he was becoming addicted to Fenton’s laugh. The head scientist had a mental category that each laugh fell into. A hard exhale through the nose was a sarcastic laugh if Fenton found something ridiculous but didn’t want to say anything. Hiding behind his clipboard with shoulders shaking meant he found something online but didn’t want to disturb the quiet. Small chortles seemed reserved for Gyro, the duck finding the head scientist’s dry humor funny. His full laugh was used with abandonment when he knew he wouldn’t be reprimanded for being so loud. Which was honestly more often than not anymore. Gyro found he loved how the sound would echo in the labs. It was almost like music.

There was also a list of body ticks that always caught Gyro’s eyes. Gently tapping the eraser of his pencil against his bill as he thought through a new problem. Tilting his head to the side with his hip occasionally cocked to the side as he looked over a blueprint. His brow would furrow when he concentrated hard on a situation. The top of his tongue would poke out when he reached ‘Gyro level’ of focus. His nose would crinkle when he silently found something amusing or disgusting. Which could only be determined by how brightly his eyes would shine.

Gyro could privately say, to himself, in his head, that Fenton honestly kept him grounded. The number of insults he would have hurled at the media dwindled when he thought of how disappointed the duck would be. The chicken had substantially cut back on the cups of coffee he would consume in one day when Fenton made a comment about being worried about his heart. He was surprised when he went to the duck to look over a new design, wanting feedback. Fenton beaming with each new time he was included in something. Gyro would counter saying Scrooge had warned the chicken he wasn’t utilizing Fenton to his fullest ability. Which was partially true. But he would be lying if Gyro wasn’t also looking for that blinding smile of adoration to be sent his way.

So, yes. After all the mental and physical lists he created. The pros and cons to having a relationship with anyone. Countless nights where he would lie awake knowing he was nowhere near worthy enough to have Fenton. Gyro knew he was in love with the duck.

The problem was moving forward with this revelation.

In all honesty, admitting it just made it all more bothersome. When Gyro still had his walls up, he could blame the rapid heartbeat as some symptoms of an onset illness. Just push the problem away to keep working. But having Boyd back in his life made him realize how bottling his emotions had become so damaging. Making Gyro more aware of what he was missing.

So now he was left to tread water. Wondering who he trusted well enough to ask for help.

There weren’t that many options with the Duck family. He and Donald had never really gotten along before the Spear of Selene incident. And Gyro was sure the duck still held some hostility towards him about the incident. While Gyro would consider Della the closest person to be a ‘childhood’ friend, she was dealing with her own issues. The kids were far too young to be considered as an option. Launchpad only had two rocks rolling around in that empty head, so any advice from him was not worth the headache. M’ma Cabrera? ...Selene above no. Even Gyro wasn’t that insane.

So that only left...Scrooge McDuck. This could not be considered a work appropriate topic. But the chicken was honestly at his wits end and needed help. The billionaire was his last and only option. It was with a heavy stone in his stomach that Gyro approached the familiar office doors. Knocking on them and only entering when he heard the familiar call out to do so.

“Ah, Gyro! What can I do for you?” Scrooge asked as the chicken sat across from him.

“I...need some advice.”

Scrooge paused in his writing, raising a brow as his full attention went to Gyro. “Advice on what?”

The chicken swallowed weakly. “Uh...romantic advice?”

“I see…” The billionaire placed his pend down. Clearing his throat, Scrooge sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Well, I will admit that I have not been very successful in my own love life. But I can offer help in any way I can. So, who’s the lucky person?”

Gyro swallowed again, feeling his face become flushed at the question. Doing all he could not to groan, he answered, “It’s Fenton.”

“The Gizmoboy? Really?”

Gyro nodded, not looking at Scrooge. His face on fire. “I just don’t know what to do. I’m aware that things have been going well and I don’t want to ruin it. But I feel like I’m going crazy! My heart is always going so fast when he’s near. I want to tell him, I really do. But...I also don’t think I’m the kind of person he deserves…”

Scrooge let out a heavy sigh as Gyro’s shoulders slumped. “I won’t act as if I’ve known you for your entire life. We both know I haven’t. But I have seen you at your lowest point and every triumph you’ve accomplished along the way. I’ve seen you slowly close in on yourself. It pained me to watch because I wasn’t sure how to help…”

“Let’s be honest sir. We both have not been in great positions emotionally for a while.” Gyro commented weakly. One that got a laugh out of Scrooge.

“This is true. But, the point is you have made a change in the past few months. I know you’ve built walls around yourself. I also know...bringing those walls down can be a terrifying idea. You’ve already started thanks to that boy of yours. Even if it was unintentional.”

“But what if he says no? I don’t know… There are too many variables that could offer a negative outcome.”

“That’s the risk of life. The good and the bad.”

“So what if he says no.”

“Then you move forward.”

“...I don’t know if I will recover.”

“Gyro, you’re putting the horse before the cart. And we’re still building the cart.”

Letting out a small groan, Gyro rubbed his forehead before looking back up. “Okay. So I’m taking a risk. We’ve determined that. But what do I say to him?”

“You just ask him.”

“Could you please not make it sound so easy.”

“It sounds easy because it is. You’re asking Fenton out on a date. Not defusing a bomb.”

“Yet the latter seems easier to accomplish.”

“Take the risk Gyro. Don’t waste your life wallowing on the ‘what-ifs’. You’ll regret it.”

Gyro left the office with not many answers and a pounding headache. But with determination to try and make this work in some way.

The bottom drawer of his desk was now filled with blueprints. Not for machines, but the best plan to ask Fenton out. The perfect places to go. All ranging from the cliche to the outlandish. What day would work best. His feathers became further ruffled as he worked. After a week of no progress, Gyro knew this wasn’t going to work. No reliable variables or knowledgeable outcomes. He just needed to do this. Because Gyro couldn’t stay in this mindset anymore.

Gyro’s first move was to wait for the lab to be empty. If he was going to crash and burn, he didn’t want an audience. Once that was achieved, he took a deep breath to settle his heart (didn’t work) and walked over to Fenton’s desk. The duck breaking from his thoughts hearing Gyro clear his throat.

“Hello Dr. Gearloose. What can I help you with?”

Gyro’s heart seemed to pick up it’s pace. Between the smile and wide eyes, the chicken felt like he was melting. In a good way. If that makes sense. None of this did.

Emotions were just so messy.

Darn it Gyro, focus!

“I...was wondering if you would be interested in conducting a...social experiment with me.”

“Oh, uh, sure! Of course. What’s the experiment?”

Another deep breath. “There is a new cafe that’s opened up recently near where I live. I am curious if you would like to join me in trying the products they offer. Sometime this weekend, possibly Saturday? Possibly trade some stories?”

Fenton’s head tilted to the side as Gyro spoke. A small smile forming as the other finished. “Dr. Gearloose-”

“Gyro. You...you can call me Gyro.”

“Okay, Gyro. Would it be safe to assume that this is an ask for a date?”

“That...would be a safe assumption.”

“Then I accept.”

Gyron was honestly shocked he was able to remain standing. Relief hitting him quickly upon hearing the answer. “Good, good.”

“How about I drop by your apartment around 8? Have breakfast at this cafe?”

“That’s acceptable.”

“Good. I look forward to this Saturday.”

“I am as well.”

One date turned to two. Which turned into three. Which became having dinner at the Crackshell-Cabrera household. Gyro was shocked when he received M’ma Cabrera’s blessing in  dating her son. But not before getting a stern warning of what would happen if Fenton was hurt in any way.

“I think that was successful.” Fenton commented as they were sharing their good-byes for the evening on the front porch.

“Yeah. Nothing says accepting like a talk that ends in the threat of my kneecaps.” Gyro smiled softly hearing the other chuckle.

“Well, she may or may not be upset still about your MoonVasion comment. You know. About throwing Gizmoduck into the masses as a sacrifice.”

“I may now also regret that comment…”

Another laugh from Fenton, the duck reaching down to gently take Gyro’s hand. Placing a kiss on the back of it before holding it close. “I’m glad you came. I think M’ma really appreciates it as well.”

“I’m happy I came as well… You know...I don’t say or do things that intentionally hurt you. I did at first but-”

“Gyro.”

“Yes?”

“I know you better now than I did before.”

And the matter was dropped.

The first kiss milestone occurred at the park around the holidays. Both bundled up against the cold and falling snow as they admired the strung holiday lights hanging from the numerous trees. Arms hooked, Fenton led the way with wide eyes. Giving small comments about the lights and how lovely the park was decorated. Gyro was admiring the duck himself. Loving how the lights fell over the brown plumage. Fenton eventually caught on that the chicken wasn’t looking at the light as he was. Flushing softly seeing eyes on him.

“W-What?” The duck laughed, a small smile forming.

“You’re beautiful.” Gyro responded softly. Fenton’s eyes widened at the comment before softening into another smile. Gyro put up no restraint as he was gently pulled down. Fenton leaning up and meeting the chicken in a gentle kiss. It was only a few seconds, but Gyro loved every moment of it.

The utterance of the three words came a few months into them dating. Fenton had arrived back to the labs after an intense battle to find a worried chicken. Arms crossed and first aid kit in his hands. There was a sharp point set to the couch and Fenton understood the silent command. Stepping out of the suit and plopping onto the cushioned furniture. Gyro made it clear he was less than pleased at the moment.

“What were you thinking.” The chicken snapped. Hand shaking as he attempted to gently clean the cuts.

“People needed help.”

“Why is that your answer for everything and why do you think it’s a reasonable one.”

“Because it’s true. I have to defend Duckberg.”

“Even against crazies coming from St. Canard? Can’t that purple caped idiot keep them in his neck of the woods.”

Fenton smiled softly. “Villains are people too. You can’t control everything.”

“Don’t tell me that. You know the first thing I’m going to do is make something that controls people to make them leave this place.”

“Gyro, that’s unethical.”

“Well, maybe if you would stop being your heroic self and making me worry.”

“I understood the risks when I took this position. As did you. As long as I have you to come back to, I’ll be okay.”

Gyro huffed as he finished up. Turning to start packing up the supplies. “I love you, but you can be such an idiot sometimes.”

He didn’t catch it until Fenton grabbed his hand suddenly. The chicken looked up to find eyes filled with shock staring at him. “What...did you say?”

Gyro frowned, thinking back to his previous words. Face becoming full blown red when he realized what he’d just uttered. “I… Is it too soon to say that? I’m sorry, I just- I’ve been thinking it a lot and every time you go to your superheroing, I think how I’m not going to get to say it. But I know we haven’t dated for a year and-”

“I love you too.”

Swallowing his words down, Gyro’s head snapped back up to look Fenton in the eyes. They sat, staring at each other in disbelief before Fenton chuckled. Gyro shares his own sheepish grin before leaning forward to claim a kiss from Fenton.

It was close to a year of them dating that Fenton moved in with Gyro and Boyd. The real boy thrilled to have the other doctor living with them. The once small, cold apartment was now teeming with life. Mornings were a rush to get ready for the day and to be out the door before they were all late. The kitchen filled with warmth and wonderful smells as Fenton makes dinner with Gyro helping where he could. Meals being shared at the small dining table before watching a few shows until bedtime. Gyro and Fenton taking turns reading to Boyd before he powered down for the night.

It was a comfortable routine. Something Gyro thought he would’ve hated. But with each day ending with him and Fenton in their shared bed. The younger laying his head on Gyro’s chest and long arms wrapped around him. The chicken realized he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I think we should buy a house.” Gyro suddenly commented into the darkness. Hearing Fenton hum softly as he was pulled from sleep.

“Where’d this come from?” The duck mumbled weakly.

“I’m not really sure. The boring suburban life seems pleasant after the craziness of...everything. What do you think?”

“I like the idea,” Fenton yawned widely before pressing closer, “We could get a big yard for Boyd and Lil Blub to play in. Neighborhood kids to become friends with. I think Della mentioned about getting a house in a quiet suburb. We could ask her.”

“That place won’t be quiet once that family moves in.”

“Oh hush. Wouldn’t it be nice to have Huey as a neighbor? Boyd would like it.”

“I suppose so…”

Fenton gave another hum, Gyro noticing the other’s breathing was slowing down again. He leaned down to place a kiss on Fenton’s forehead. “I love you.”

The duck laughed softly. Placing his own weak kiss on Gyro’s neck. “Love you too…”

Gyro let out a slow breath, a smile forming on his face. Eyes on the ceiling as he listened to Fenton fall asleep. A hand reached up to preen a few feathers as he pulled the other closer. Heart beating happily as he settled down further into the bed. A smile still on his face as he fell asleep as well.

[mimosaeyes]

This is a dream, then. A fantasy conjured by the last firing of his synapses in the moment before death. Martin silently thanks his subconscious for it. He’s never had faith the way his mother did, but if there is a heaven for him, he’s quite sure it would have Jon in it.

Post-200. Jon and Martin wake up somewhere else. 2.2k, fix-it but not really.

In case this turns out to be the last fic I finish in this fandom, I want to especially thank my beta @emberidzae for introducing me to TMA. Or, at least, for talking about it enough in my general proximity that eventually I got curious.

Someone is cradling Martin’s head on their lap, and running their fingers through his hair. Jon, he thinks absently. He’d know him anywhere, even by such tiny details as the shape of his calluses where he grips a pen, and the texture of his burn-scarred skin.

But that can’t be right. Jon is dead. He’d killed him in the Panopticon, hands shaking until the instant before the knife had plunged in. The only way he could force himself to do it was to make it as quick and painless as possible. He couldn’t falter and draw out Jon’s suffering, not when it was already such a torment to hear him groan and scream as the building began to crumble around them. Or to see the look in his eyes, the utter trust and love warring against the Beholding’s hold on him.

This is a dream, then. A fantasy conjured by the last firing of his synapses in the moment before death. Martin silently thanks his subconscious for it. He’s never had faith the way his mother did, but if there is a heaven for him, he’s quite sure it would have Jon in it.

He breathes, even and steady like he’s trying to fall more deeply asleep. If these are his last seconds of awareness, he wants to spend them just like this.

Then he hears Jon quietly ask, “Are you awake?”

Martin opens his eyes. Jon is peering down at him, his expression tender and tentative. In the weak sunlight, he looks washed out, his features rendered nearly in greyscale. There’s no trace of the bright red from when Martin had lifted a bloody hand to cup his face. The only indication of everything that’s happened is a faint mistiness about Jon’s eyes.

Furrowing his brow, Martin reaches up and touches his cheek. It’s wet; he leaves behind a fine dusting of black sand that has stuck to his fingers. “Are you crying?” he murmurs, almost confused. Surely, if this is all in his imagination, he’d have made Jon happy.

Jon surprises him with a soft laugh. “Tears of relief, Martin. Look around.”

Reluctantly, still half-convinced none of this is really happening, Martin rolls to one side and sits up. Jon scoots over a little for him, even though there’s plenty of space. The shore is completely deserted apart from them, and silent but for the gently lapping water.

“Is this...?”

At Martin’s questioning look, a smile slowly spreads across Jon’s face. It’s a complicated one, balanced between joy and disbelief, sadness and resignation. “Somewhere else,” he affirms.

“But I—” Martin stares at Jon. There’s no blood on him, no wound; only a tell-tale rip in his shirt where the knife had gone in. “I killed you.”

“I told you to,” Jon objects. His hands come up as if to touch Martin, who rocks back on his haunches.

“I killed you,” he repeats, this time in a whisper.

Jon watches him for a moment. His shoulders lift in a helpless sort of shrug. “Or maybe,” he says, “you killed everything that wasn’t me. Everything tethering them there.”

Martin can feel tears welling up in his eyes. He’s shaking his head slowly, but he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he can deny the physical fact of Jon, here with him, miraculously unharmed and apparently, entirely human. It’s not like he wants to, either. He just hadn’t been expecting to wake up again — in a world he may have helped to doom, next to a boyfriend he was supposed to have died with.

It’s a lot to process.

A single sob escapes Martin, and at once Jon is hushing him, almost vaulting forward in his rush to pull him into a hug. They meet awkwardly halfway, in a tangle of clumsy limbs and warmth. 

With Jon’s arms around him, Martin lets himself just cry for a while.

It feels long overdue. The back of Martin’s throat has felt tight and strained since the moment he woke up to find Jon gone. He’d rushed to find Georgie, Melanie, and Basira, and then he’d rushed up the countless flights of stairs in the Panopticon, not daring to stop and catch his breath for fear he’d be too late. He was, anyway, and the moment Jon had turned around to face him, voice crackling with static and eyes illuminated as if from within, it had all come crashing over Martin: Jon had left him behind after all. He’d broken his promise, been so willing to die in some perverse kind of atonement that he hadn’t even waited to say goodbye.

Martin hardly dares to believe he’s here now, rubbing soothing circles over his back and murmuring, “It’s okay. Shh. I’ve got you.”

It takes some time, but eventually Martin subsides. The trembling stops and his breathing slows. Mildly embarrassed, he pulls back from the embrace. “Don’t ever,” he says wetly, poking Jon in the chest, “do that to me again.”

“I won’t,” Jon says softly. He waits until Martin has settled back on the sand, then takes his hand and interlaces their fingers. 

For a while, they both stare out at the water, the way the seafoam stands out against the dark beach.

“Any idea where this is?” Martin asks.

Jon shakes his head. “I think Iceland has black sand beaches, but... you know. That’s back in our reality.”

Martin lets out a long breath. “It worked, then.” His voice is muted with weariness. “We saved the world.”

“And doomed every other one.” Without letting go of Martin’s hand, Jon pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them.

“Not everything is your fault, Jon. We all agreed on the plan.” 

He waits, but Jon gives no sign of having even heard the words. He watches him for a long moment, biting his lip. Then he clambers to his feet and pulls on their linked hands. “Come on.”

Jon blinks up at him. “Where are we going?”

“On a walk,” Martin tells him.

The beach looks the same in either direction, and a steep wall of volcanic rock prevents them from going farther inland. Undaunted, Martin starts off towards the left. Jon follows, possibly from force of habit. They’d gone on many such walks together, in the halcyon days at the safehouse before the world ended. 

Normally, Martin would point things out as they passed them by — good cows being a bonus, of course — but this place seems eerily devoid of life. There aren’t even any seashells or bits of driftwood. The air is still. The fog sits in heavy reams.

He’s just wondering if he should bring it up when Jon abruptly starts talking. He’d given one last statement, he admits, up in the Panopticon before Martin arrived. Becoming the pupil of the Eye had given him answers, at long last, about how the entities came to be. 

Jon’s train of thought is uncertain, and he frowns a lot as he rambles. Sometimes he stops and gazes out across the water, the look in his eyes vacant. It’s probably just a side effect of his being ripped away from the Ceaseless Watcher, Martin tells himself. Probably.

“We created monsters,” Jon says at last, “and then I set them loose on the whole universe.” He stops walking and hunches his shoulders. “What does that make me?”

Martin closes his eyes for a moment. “Jonathan Sims, you are not a monster.”

Beside him, Jon’s breathing goes shaky. “But I told you—”

“That I wouldn’t want to see what was left of you?” Martin interrupts. He hasn’t forgotten the desperate look on Jon’s face in that moment, when he’d first refused to leave him. “I’m looking at you right now, Jon, and you know what I see?”

Illogically, he’s almost angry at him; that’s how frustrated he is that the man he loves cannot seem to stop blaming himself for everything. “I see someone who has given everything to make things right. Who chose kindness, even though he’d been marked and manipulated. Even though he kept getting kidnapped and hunted and hurt and — and used.”

Jon is staring at him now, wide-eyed. Martin thinks about the way he’d looked in what he thought were their last moments together. Beautiful and beatific. He touches two fingers to Jon’s chin, tilting it up. “It’s not monstrous to protect the people you love,” he says. “It’s human.”

With his free hand, Jon swipes at a tear that’s running down his cheek.

“Okay?” Martin presses, but gently.

Jon sniffs. “Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “that your pep talks can be rather aggressive?”

He’s deflecting, but Martin decides to let him get away with it. He’s pushed hard enough for now. In any case, he thinks his words have hit home, at least to some extent. There’s still guilt in Jon’s eyes, but although it runs deep, Martin thinks it looks a little less sharp.

Pulling back and turning to resume their walk, he says, “They have to be, to get through your thick head.”

A corner of Jon’s lips quirks up. “That sounds like something Basira would say.”

“Is she alright, do you think? And Georgie and Melanie?”

Jon waves a hand. “I’m sure they’re fine. They’re probably putting the world back together already.”

“Probably make it better,” Martin muses. He sighs. “They’ll have their work cut out for them.”

A beat. “And what about us?” Jon asks quietly. “What do we do now?”

They fall silent, each contemplating the question. 

If they’ve ended up in the same world as the entities, Martin figures, at some point they’ll probably have to start seeking out organisations like the Magnus Institute, working out who the next Archivist is. And if they somehow stop the apocalypse from happening, it’ll only be for a while. There will always be another attempt to foil. 

By some miracle, they’ve made it here. Maybe they’ll be able to build a life together, and enjoy it for a while. But mostly, the future Martin sees stretching ahead of them is just full of more danger and guilt and sacrifice. 

Jon must be thinking along the same lines, because he sighs and says, “Do you know what this reminds me of? It’s like I thought the play was over, but it turns out it’s only the intermission.”

“What did you want it to be?”

For the space of several breaths, Jon is silent. “A good epilogue,” he says at last. “I’d like to think we deserve that much.”

Martin swallows past a sudden lump in his throat. There isn’t really anything he can say to that, so instead he gives Jon a little nudge, and keeps walking.

When he next looks up, his eye snags on a shape on the shoreline ahead of them. It’s the first thing they’ve come across since they woke up here and started walking. In tacit agreement, they both wander over to get a closer look. 

It’s a small boat, complete with a set of oars. The wood has only the faintest suggestion of brown. It’s been bleached to a light grey, though how long that would have taken, Martin can’t guess. 

He clears his throat. “Is anything about all this just a little bit on the nose to you?”

“What?” Jon asks, still peering at the boat. Then: “Oh.”

This looks more like an ocean than a river, Styx or otherwise, but Martin can’t deny that there’s something ethereal about this place. Interstitial. Plus, there’s the otherwise inexplicable fact that Jon’s wound is gone. Honestly, he should have put it together sooner.

He notices Jon watching him then, his head canted and his expression fond. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jon says. “You’re just... taking the possibility that you’re dead very well.”

“So are you,” Martin points out.

Jon shrugs. “I’ve had time to get used to the idea. Besides, you’re here.”

His smile, at that moment, is a brittle thing. Martin finds he has to look away from it.

They never seem to get enough time, do they? The cottage in Scotland. That week at Upton House. And now this. Part of Martin is tempted to try and stay here, in this final pocket of respite. He knows that’s irrational, though. 

Maybe this is just a very dramatic-looking beach, and they’ll feel very silly when they wash ashore. Or maybe they’re right. Maybe they’ll get in that boat and... pass on, head towards the light — any one of the phrases people have invented to give shape to the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns.

Either way, Martin realises, they have to find out. And at least they’ll find out together. Subconsciously, he tightens his grip on Jon’s hand.

“What are you thinking?” Jon asks softly.

Martin looks at him for a long moment. “I did want to take you rowing.” Such light words for the weight of what they imply.

“Where you go,” Jon says, “I go.”

Martin smiles. “That’s the deal.”

It takes them a while to get a rhythm going after they push off from the shore. Martin rows, and after a while, to his mild delight, Jon starts singing a sea shanty under his breath, keeping time to the beat of the oars. 

And as the shore disappears behind the fog, Martin is surprised to find that colours start to filter back into the world. Pinks and yellows, the likes of which the sky above his head hasn’t contained in so long.

He looks at Jon, who looks back at him and nods. 

They meet the sunrise. They leave the world behind.

[also available on AO3 here]

[my TMA fic on AO3]

[jamilelucato]

Best Teacher, Part 3 || Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: y/N is a pureblood Slytherin best friends with Harry Potter, but not yet that close to the Weasleys until she’s invited to spend Christmas with them.

PART 1 || PART 2

A/N: It’s the last chapter, hope you’re all just excited as I am. I must say, it would have been better if I had published it on Christmas but I just couldn’t wait. So, if you want my advice, reread it on Christmas.

*gif below actually mine and I'm so proud

The first thing you realised when you got out of the bathroom was that you had the wrong wand. At first sight, you had no idea why or how. It was only when you kept on thinking that you remembered when you could have swapped it.

The night before had been... well, interesting, to say the least. You could still feel Fred's touch, even if it had passed hours. Heck! You had showered and you still could smell his perfume on you! 

To any help, once you finally managed to quiet your thoughts and sleep, he was there, visiting you in your dreams, just to kiss you again.

You were not complaining, though. Yeah, yeah, you had a resting bitch face when you got downstairs, which caused Ginny to ask you if anything was wrong.

"Slept on my wrong side, I guess" you answered, short and sharp.

She looked at you like she couldn't recognize the girl in front of her, and, to be fair, neither could you. You tended to be grumpy, especially in the morning, but never that grumpy.

It didn't make sense. You had just been kissed like you had been waiting your whole life to, and now you walked around acting terrible.

The Weasley Twins were not yet on the breakfast table. The boys — all of the boys in the house — were late for breakfast, that was their mom's complaint in the morning.

"I just know they are up to something, I know they are" she finished, seeing you and Ginny walk in. "Good morning, girls".

You tried faking a smile, but it felt too hard so you gave up. Mrs Weasley didn't even notice, going back to the stove, not waiting for a reply. You sat right next to Ginny, avoiding the chair where you were happy to sit one day ago.

"Where are the boys?" Ginny asked. You were not able to conclude if she meant all her brothers or just the twins, but you were curious just like her.

"Percy's in the bathroom" Mr Weasley answered, not showing his face because of the newspaper he held. "Ron and Harry overslept, I suppose."

You started madding up, desperately wanting to know the explanation for Fred and George's disappearance. They were, surprisingly, generally the firsts to eat breakfast and their absence on the table made your stomach boil up.

"Want an egg, dear?" Molly asked you after placing a scrambled egg in front of her daughter.

"No, thanks. Not that hungry today" your answer surprised Mrs Weeasley, but she didn't bother insisting. 

You were avoiding asking about the twins, but after pouring yourself a cup of milk — and remembering the night before — you just couldn't take the unknown anymore. "Where are Fred and George?"

Ginny was the first to look at you, slowly smiling as she was understanding your curiosity. She, before even you, noticed you three were up to something bigger than pranking everyone in the house. You suspected she even knew about the secret midnight getaways, but she was too embarrassed to say a thing. 

Mrs Weasley pointed a finger at you, letting go of the frying panhandle in a gasp. "See? The visitors noticed it is weird!" her voice was louder than before, her eyes wide open at Mr Weasley direction.

The husband let go of his newspaper, which fell on his lap. He rolled his eyes — a habit that you now understood it was very common for the Weasleys.

"Dear Merlin, woman, I believe they are alright. If they were up to no good, we would have known by now" he said, in a fail attempt of calming down his wife.

Molly simply got back facing the house's stove, but she didn't look pleased. "I swear if I catch them doing evil spells again..." but she never finished her threat.

Percy finally got down to the kitchen, sitting at his father's right. "Good morning, family. Good morning, y/N."

You were in no mood of being nice so you just mockingly smiled at him. Ginny chocked with her mug on hand, almost spitting the drink.

Harry and Ron came down the stairs laughing, but their giggles died once they sat on the table. Harry was polite enough to wish us all a good morning, but Ron didn't do so, he just sat next to you with a weird expression on his face.

"Where are the twins?" he asked, realising the missing pieces of the breakfast table.

"They weren't in their rooms," Mr Weasley said, finally revealing to you what you had been most curious about. "So I don't know where they can be."

Alas, that only left you with a lot more questions. What could they possibly be doing? Was it your fault? Could Fred have asked for his twin's help to disappear from the house just because you kissed him? If that was the case, good Merlin, your mood for the morning was less than appropriate. That was it. Fred hated you and was disgusted by the kiss. You were a shame for your name.

"They are not planning on dye my hair again, are they?" Ron asked, facing you. 

You shook your head. "Don't ask me, I don't quite understand those two myself" you replied, drinking all your milk with one gulp.

Ginny was about to burst into laughter, so she filled her mouth with her mom's scrambled eggs. Ron, on the other hand, kept on staring at you, like he was trying to catch something you didn't say. Harry looked at you sympathetically but said nothing.

Even after breakfast, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley kept on arguing about their missing kids, and you were eavesdropping, in hopes to listen to anything at all that could contain important information.

"That's rude, did you know?" Harry's voice whispered. You looked back to face the boy that had a smile. He sat next to you on the couch while you closed the book you held in case you needed a disguise since that didn't work out.

"It's just... I'm worried" you confessed, unwilling to pretend. Harry was the one you used to tell everything, so why not this? He might be able to help you, anyway.

"They're fine. They got my invisibility cloak this morning, so I think it's some prank they're organising" Harry explained, pressing his lips together at the end of the sentence. He seemed more worried about you than the boys, and you thought that could only mean you didn't have to worry.

"You allowed it?" you asked, knowing how much that cloak meant to Harry.

"I owe them a lot. Besides, they'll return it to me." he shrugged.

You stared at your best friend for a while, not knowing what to say. One thing was telling him that you were concerned about the twins' escape; telling him that you might have feelings for Fred was a whole other.

Harry Potter sighed. "Look, I don't know how to say this but... I'm sure he feels the same"

His commentary caught you by surprise.

"What?"

"Fred Weasley," Harry said, like that explained everything. Noticing you were still very much confused, he added: "This mix of thing you're feeling, he's totes feeling the same"

You raised an eyebrow at that information. There was a reason for you to have been friends with Harry besides all the odds — you two understood each other in a level that no other two persons have ever. It was like that when you found him about to cry on your second year, and it was like that right now, with him staring at you as he knew of your secrets.

"Am I that obvious?" you asked, giggling nervously.

He smiled, sympathetic. "I don't think so 'cause he and Ron haven't noticed it yet"

"Ron?" you replied, perplexed, which caused Harry to laugh a bit too loud.

"Yeah... He thinks you plan on killing his brother or something" he revealed. "I don't blame him, you do look at Fred sometimes like you want to explode his head"

"Yes! Because he's so dimwitted!" your exclamation made you both burst into laughter, so much, you lost your breath. 

It was good talking to Harry and realising your friendship was still pure and genuine, even if Harry's life was in danger all the time and you sounded like a spoiled child.

"Wait a minute" once you calmed down, a question popped in your head "When you say only Fred and Ron doesn't know about — hmm my crush, let's say — you mean that the rest of the family knows?"

"Well of course! George is even jealous of how much time you two have been spending together!" Harry said, leaning closer to you "Ginny thinks it's cute, on the other hand"

You glanced at him, with smirk "Ginny, huh? Talking to her a lot, are we?" He rolled his eyes. 

"Don't be stupid" his phrase made you start laughing all over again.

***

When George and Fred finally showed up, the sun was almost gone.

Molly Weasley awaited for them close to the front door, holding somewhat of kitchen utensil, that you weren't able to recognize due to the distance.

You, Ginny, Ron, Percy and Potter were having a picnic outside. After the food was all eaten, Percy got back to his room, but the rest of you stayed there, laying on the tablecloth on the grass, watching the clouds and making jokes. 

It was Ron that first saw his brothers arriving because he heard his mom's screams. To be fair, it didn't take long for all of you to hear her screams as well.

Ron desperately wanted to get up and be closer to the scene, but Ginny advised him it'd be better to stay. His mom could start punishing him too.

"WHERE WERE YOU TWO??" Molly asked, making herself heard all around the neighbourhood.

Fred had Harry's cloak on his hands, you recognized it, but he also had a bag in his hands that you didn't know what could it be.

George looked scared of his mom, so he was the first to talk. Although you couldn't hear him — differently from his mom, he wasn't screaming —, you imagined he was explaining where they went 'cause he held up to white plastic bags.

"YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME! OR LEAVE A NOTE! THERE WERE SO MANY ALTERNATIVES!" Molly pointed out, making the twins duck their heads.

You could swear you heard they say "I'm sorry" and then she let them in. Not before exclaiming "After you come back from Hogwarts, you won't be allowed out of the house!"

You wondered if she was gonna remember that punishment once they were back.

"Where do you think they were?" you asked Ginny.

"I think they went to buy presents," Ginny said, not looking at you, still facing the house entrance.

"HA! As if our brothers would buy us anything" Ron had a weird face on and got up as soon as he realised the path was clear.

"I didn't say it was for us" Ginny replied, turning slowly to face you. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the eyes to fall upon you too.

"Bloody hell" grunted Ron, before rolling his eyes and forcing Harry to leave with him.

***

Christmas Eve was an event of not much importance at the y/L/N household. Her mom would make the house-elves put on some decorations for Christmas, like a tree and maybe some lights, but that was that. They would have a bigger than the already big dinners the house had, y/N's parents would give her presents, and after that, they'd go to bed. 

No hugging near the fireplace, no jokes about the holiday and no visit of the rest of the family to fill the house. To feel a bit less lonely,  you used to ask the three house-elves of the house to eat with you at the table, however, they generally refused. To make it up, you'd leave after dinner to eat some cake with them in the kitchen.

All that way of celebration was nothing close to the Weasleys' Christmas Eve. After the twins' arrival, Molly Weasley put all the kids to work, instructing you where to put every single decoration she had stored, and she had a lot. Percy and Mr Weasley got responsible for the tree, and they did a pretty good job with it.

Ginny would make you laugh now and then because she used to stop decorating the walls to put the ornaments on herself.

Although avoiding each other, you'd lock eyes with Fred from time to time, you simply couldn't avoid it. To break the stares, Ginny would fake cough right next to you, in a way of calling out your attention. It helped, because, you were not in the mood to gaze at Fred. 

Ok, it might have been you the one to run away after the kiss, but it was in the middle of the night. Besides, he was the one missing in the next morning, so, some part of your brain decided that he should be the one to talk to you first. The only problem was that he didn't seem ready to do so.

"Dinner's ready, kids!" Mrs Weasley called out for you all.

You followed Ginny, sitting right next to her like you had done it in the morning. Fred faced you, confused by your change of seats, but he didn't say a thing. Molly had prepared such a big feast that you were surprised she could have done it all on her own. Of course, the meal at your house was way bigger, but you couldn't blame her, she just didn't have house-elves for the rescue.

"It tastes like Heaven, Mrs Weasley!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your pleasure for the deliciousness that woman had prepared.

The Weasleys' mom smiled shyly, her cheeks turning red. "Well, thank you, y/N! It's nice to hear such a good compliment! You guys should learn with her."

The way she replied made you selfconscious. Ron immediately faced you, with an angry look, like you had ruined his whole life. Mr Weasley and Percy were smiling at your politeness, but you couldn't see because you were facing the only one you shouldn't.

Fred Weasley lifted his eyes from his food to you, trying to hide his smile. The truth was that he was really happy to see you hit it off with his mom.

"Oh, and dear, what did I say about my name?" Mrs Weasley said, forcing you to face her instead of Fred, which you were thankful.

"Sorry, Molly" you replied, using her name. She smiled back at you.

*** After everyone got full with not only the dinner but also the dessert, Molly cleaned the table without letting you get up.

"Wait, you fools. I want to give you your presents" she said, getting up from her chair. She got a plastic bag from somewhere behind her seat and started distributing what looked like handmade winter clothes.

"There you go, husband... Percy... Dear Ginny" she stopped herself to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Harry, I got you something too. As well for you, y/N, just let me find it" she sank her hand further into the bag.

"Oh, but there was no need, Mrs... Molly" you said, correcting yourself along the away.

"Nonsense" she returned, finally getting what she looked for from the bag. "Fred and George, here you go."

"Matching scarfs! Nice!" Fred commented, smiling to his brother. They wrapped the scarf around each other's necks.

"Now, we can look identical!" George added, making his mom roll her eyes.

"Here's yours, Harry" she gave Harry a black scarf, that had an 'H' in one of its ends. She turned herself at you, holding a golden-like scarf, much like the ones with the twins. "I had trouble with yours, dear. Ginny warned me you were coming at the last minute and..."

"Hey, no worries, Molly. You didn't even need to give me something!" you thanked her, interrupting her attempt of justification. She then let you get the scarf from her hands. You weren't wrong to think it was like the twins' one. It was one of the twins' one, Fred's actually because there was a big 'F' in one of its ends.

"I didn't realise I had already done one for Fred" she started, ducking her head, afraid of your reaction. "If you'd like, I can redo it until the end of the holiday, and, you know..."

"Molly, Molly" you interrupted, holding her arm, trying to calm her down. "It's ok. I like it this way."

"Damn right she does" Ginny muttered, and you kicked her under the table.

"Besides, I don't think Fred has a problem with it, do you, Freddie?" you asked, finally facing him. 

He was caught by surprise, swallowing hard before returning with a quick comment. "The 'F' looks good on you" and then he winked, making you blush.

Mrs Weasley seemed relieved of the way you handled things and smiled to you. "I'm glad you are here this year with us. I'll hope you'll come next years"

"Oh, she will," Ginny remarked again just so she could win another kick of yours.

"I have presents for you all as well. I mean, I couldn't come without presents" you said, getting up. "Just wait."

You left to Ginny's room, so you could get the presents you had bought at Hogsmeade for all of them. You even had caught presents for Bill and Charlie, because you didn't know they wouldn't be there.

"You didn't have to, dear," said Molly Weasley when you got back to downstairs. You nodded, "It's almost nothing, I mean, I got you all some candy from Honeydukes", you smiled showing your teeth, "It's barely a present."

You started passing the candy to everyone since they were all the same, it didn't matter to who you were giving.

"Well, thank you," Mr Weasley said, causing your cheeks to turn red. He was a very poilite but quiet man, quite different from the rest of the family.

"I've got ones to Bill and Charlie as well, 'cause I didn't know they wouldn't come. Can you give it to them, Molly?" you asked, politely.

"Sure," she said, running her hand to your back.

"What about our candy?" Fred and George asked together, which caused the table to laugh.

"Well, I knew there were things more important than candy for you two, so..." you got the last items inside the bag you had in your hands, "Bilton Blimes told me these were things you have been looking for ages but were never able to find."

The twins looked at you shocked, both their mouths wild open, which caused you to laugh. "I'd say after this morning you guys don't deserve it..."

"They don't" an angry Molly Weasley commented.

"...but I wouldn't use it anyway" you continued, giving them their precious little toys.

Percy was the only one at the table that was not laughing at Fred and George's faces. Even Molly gave in, giggling a little.

"Now, off of here, I need to clean up" she ordered, probably desperate to hide her smile from her kids.

Mr Weasley stayed with his wife, to help her with the dishes, which you thought was too cute of him. Percy was the first to leave the table, followed by Harry, Ron and Ginny, they were playing with each other, trying to steal one another candy. You just rolled your eyes at them.

"Thank you, so, so much, y/N!" exclaimed Fred, walking in your direction, holding his little toy in his hands, unable to take his eyes off of it.

"Yeah, y/N, thanks! If my brother isn't keeping you, I'd gladly do it!" George said, laughing. Fred slapped his back, but the twin didn't even move. He left the kitchen faster, leaving you and Fred on the slow walk you two were doing.

You didn't want to be the first to talk, but you needed to say something. Fred seemed to be feeling the same, but he didn't open his mouth. When you were brave enough to say something, he started talking with you. "So I" you both started together.

You stared at each other, embarrassed. "You go first," he said at the same time as you. You looked at him, ashamed again, and then you both break into laughs. He touched you in your elbow, suggesting with his eyes to the stairs. You headed that way, sitting on the second step.

"I'm sorry I run away last night" you started saying, avoiding looking at his eyes. He sat next to you. He reached for your hands, leaving the present you had just gave him on the upper step. "I'm sorry I disappeared this morning."

You both stared at each other, taking in a moment to just stay in silence. Neither of you cared to say that it was ok because you knew that wasn't the problem. You weren't worried about the disappearance but worried about what it had meant. What the kiss meant.

"So..." you began but couldn't finish. You weren't brave enough to be the first to mention it and by the looks of it, neither was he.

"I... hm, I've got you something. For Christmas" he said, swallowing dry. "It's in my room."

You didn't know what he was expecting you to say.

"Come, I'll show you" he squeezed your hand, before getting up and helping you do the same.

He guided you through the stairs, without letting go of your hand. He stopped at the sight of a door — you supposed it was his — and opened it, slowly. "Sorry for the mess."

"No worries" you smiled because the room was actually cleaner than what you expected to see from the bedroom of the biggest pranksters of Hogwarts.

He had to let go of your hand to kneel before his bead, to get something that was underneath it.

"Here," he said, getting up. "Take it, it's yours."

You took the box from his hands, scared of what could be inside. 

"It's not a prank, come on" he smiled, noticing you were afraid to open it.

You undid the lace, taking the cover of the box. Inside, your wand looked like as if it was just new.

"We swapped it" he pointed out, while you took your wand of the box. It felt nice to have it in your hands once again. 

His wand, the one you've been carrying around all day was placed on your boot. You bowed to get it and returned it to the rightful owner. "Here you go," you said, trying to smile even though you were a little disappointed with his gift.

He giggled at you while getting his wand. "That's not your present, y/N. Look closer to the box."

After hs advise, you came upon noticing the box had a spell, probably the Undetectable Extension Charm. You reached further inside the box, trying to find whatever Fred could have hidden.

"It's a quaffle!" you exclaimed, getting the ball outside of the box. It looked new, its red appearance shining.

Fred giggled at your reaction.

"Why a quaffle?" you asked, confused with the quidditch ball chasers use to score. Yeah, you had learned a couple of things.

"Well, I saw how happy you get playing quidditch and I want you to keep on playing" he started, looking deep into you eyes "I like seeing you happy."

He shrugged like he had said something of the least importance. You stood on tiptoe so you could reach him and kissed him on the cheek. 

He swallowed, his cheeks turning redder than his hair. "You'll keep on playing?"

"Of course! If you keep on being my teacher" you suggested, satisfied with your attempt of sassiness.

"Oh, you are a keeper" he commented, making you chuckle because of the double meaning of the sentence. It made you even happier once you realised that he might have been using the word's double meaning from the very beginning.

"FRED WEASLEY, WHERE ARE YOU?" you listened to a scream, probably coming from the living room.

"MOM, I'LL BE DOWN IN A SECOND!" he shouted back, making you laugh hard.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT!" his mom shouted back. Fred rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if she noticed that I'm not downstairs as well" you pointed out, holding the quidditch ball with only one hand.

"Ginny must have covered you up, which I see George wasn't able to do for me," Fred said, his tone showing discomfort.

"Then, let's go. What are you waiting for?" you said, reaching for his hand to take him downstairs. It was funny, you tough, coping his mom's words.

"For this" he answered, taking his free hand at your waist, pulling you closer to him. The encounter of bodies made you let go of the quaffle, that fell upon the floor without any noise.

Fred leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. This time, there was no hush. You both have been waiting to repeat that for so long, that when it finally happened it was like the world had stopped just to let you two kiss in peace.

He embraced you tighter and tighter, and although, you needed time out for breathing, you didn't let go of each other.

You didn't know how long had passed when you finally got away from each other.

"Merry Christmas" Fred wished you, his voice a bit rough from the long snogging session.

You smiled at him.

"Merry Christmas, Fred."

[cosplayinamerica]

Spiderman from Marvel 1602 // Cosplayer: kammospark

Tell us about Spiderman1602, I’ve seen many versions of Spiderman but  thiis is a new one to me! What led you to this concept of this version of Spiderman?

Well I've always had an appreciation for lesser know outfits of popular heroes. Looking through many wardrobes and outfits, the obscure ones always stood out to me, "Wow, I've never seen this one before!" I'd think to myself, and I figured others who know the characters well would love to see them brought to life too, or even people curious about the stories of them would enjoy seeing it. I feel everyone has a love for Spider-Man; he's such an iconic superhero and has so many suits, and even though they can be quite diverse, they still feel recognizable as one of the Web-slinger's costumes.

While I was looking at different Spiderverse characters for inspiration on a new Spider-Man cosplay, I saw Marvel 1602 and it immediately caught my attention; I thought it was such a fun looking design. Definitely away from a modern or futuristic look, it's charm won me over, and I had to put it together. And as a fan of the fantasy genre in general, thanks to many years as a GM from D&D as well as other media, I also enjoy Ren-faires and wanted something to wear to show my love for Superheroes and Renaissance.

When you wore it out to conventions, what was the response? Obviously they knew you were Spiderman because of the mask but were they confused about the rest of your outfit? What were some of their guesses?

Oh people certainly get a kick out of seeing the outfit. Some people have called Me 'Lord Spider-Man', 'Ren-Spidey', 'William Spider-Speare', a lot of creative names for it that never fail to make me smile as much as it does for them. Whenever I wear a Spider-Man cosplay, I always want to try and take pics with as many Spider-Men as I can find, and most of the time it's the other Spiderman cosplayers that recognize who the character really is. I love having people laugh and get excited over the character, it's part of that Con Magic where people just can't help but feel like a kid when they see something that fills them with joy; its my favorite part of this fun hobby, just making someone's day memorable, even for a moment.

Besides conventions , I see you wore the costume to a Renaissance Fair. What was responses there? Was it different from conventions?

Ren-faires in general are a great time! And when I started this costume, I was excited just thinking of the reactions from people and how happy they may be. I've taken 1602 to quite a few Ren-faires: Central Coast Ren Faire, NorCal Ren Faire, and Kingsburg Renaissance of Kings.

The first place I ever debuted it was as CCRF, and I was stopped by about 20 people before I could make it past the first 3 booths. It really does feel like a different environment going to faires. D

uring them, I'd be a bit more 'theatrical' and introduce myself as Peter Parquagh, and try my best to make people smile or laugh. I've gotten the opportunity to meet many wonderful people and people with stunning and gorgeous Renaissance outfits. Kids come walk by amazed that they actually got to see a Spider-Man at a Ren Faire.

One instance, a bard played the spider-man theme song on a lute as he traveled around me. At two different faires my presence was requested by the Queen, and I was escorted to her, one even knighted me! Everyone just has a blast role playing and getting caught up in the fun, the energy is so infectious and delightful! 

Take us through how the outfit was put together?

Well, I cannot take full credit on the cosplay. My mother was actually a large part of it. Growing up, my mom was always really involved and loved making costumes for Halloween for me and my sister. And one of her favorite aesthetics is period piece era fashion and she loves Jane Austen.

As I was looking for ideas for a new cosplay and showing her, she was drawn towards 1602 and offered to do as much as she could to help create it, and she loved helping putting it together. The suit is a handmade outfit following a 14th century cavalier pattern. The design called for detachable sleeves and very baggy slops, but we decided to have the sleeves attached and slim down the slops slightly, to give it a mix of authentic and Spider-man's sleekness.

We went looking online and found this wonderful blue velvet fabric with Fleur De Lis imprinted onto it and thought it'd really help the outfit pop! We had to make sure we kept the fabric in the same direction: it has a difference in shimmer if facing a certain way, and we wanted the Fleurs facing the same way as well, so we tried to be mindful of that. We pleated the red fabric in the front and it was quite stubborn, but we tried our best to make it look similar on both sides of the torso. The back has a spider and has legs that lead unto the front; we cut out red fabric and hand-stitch embroidered on, and was quite meticulous.

Me and my mom kept an eye out online for just the right buttons we wanted for the costume. Something antique and era appropriate but also thematic, and after a while, we stumbled across a web-designed antique gold button set. We also looked for a thick ruff rather than the costumes original thin look. The original costume look also called for the mask to have open eye holes, but I opted out of that, and felt that a traditional mask look better complemented the costume. After that I acquired socks and shoes and then it was finished! 

How did you discover cosplay?

As mentioned earlier, my mom loved making mine and my sister's costumes growing up. She's a seamstress as a hobby, and is so creative and artsy. Halloween was probably my favorite holiday growing up, and I was so happy I got to wear something made with much love from my family. Some of my favorite notable costumes growing up was a knight, an astronaut, and Pikachu.

As I got older, around high school, I still liked the idea of costumes, even bought a cheap Captain America outfit for The Avengers premiere night, but I mostly dropped off on dressing up. I grew up in a very small town, but eventually, after I moved out to the city, I heard about 'conventions' and I was interested and wanted to try and wear something to one. I decided to make a classic Punisher costume, and wore it for the con. It was a small venue, but even then it finally hit me, 'This is a thing people do. People love to dress up, go make friends, bring smiles and show their love for their Fandoms and interests. THIS is what Cosplay IS'. I finally understood what this little hobby of mine was, and I embraced it.

Have you discovered something about yourself through cosplay?

I've always thought of myself as a people pleaser. I'm someone who really only want others to be happy. I'm also someone who loves to share their interests and engage with others about things that we can share and discuss and geek out over.

When I was young, I often felt left out from social circles, due to my often eccentric personality. I found it really hard to make friends, and I am forever grateful for the friends that I have made and been with me for years.

Cosplay has opened up another avenue as far as friends and socializing. My first couple of cons I was initially intimidated, but I have to say that I'm so glad I got into this hobby, for I've met many people with interesting stories and wonderful personalities, and people I still talk to often. It's really helped me feel like I can make good friends and memories, and I'm sure that others have felt similarly and that's something I treasure.

What are your future cosplay goals?

As with most cosplayers I'm sure, I have way too many projects in my head with very little work on a lot of them. I suppose my current goal is to rework the headpiece of a cosplay I finished last year, my Bioshock Big Daddy Doll. The head was massive and too cumbersome so it needs to be redone.

As far as new projects, I would very much like to do a Prince Link cosplay, inspired by the creation of theLostSindar. Another idea would be to do more superhero variants and make a Blue Lantern Flash that 8ve been eyeing for a couple of years.

One thing I definitely want to get good at is working with foam. I am massively inexperienced with foamsmithing, and I strive to learn how to be good at it and learn how to make wonderful things with it. It's just like when I first went to cons; starting off can be a bit scary or even overwhelming before we really get it going, but that exposure to things we really desire is all we need to get hooked and make it our passion.

https://www.instagram.com/kammospark/