thegiddyprewett

[thegiddyprewett]

dawnmwithey:

“Unsurprising,” she teased.

“Oi -- it’s one thing when I say it, but my heart hurts when you do-- we’re good dads. Sometimes --” 

[thegiddyprewett]

veraavery:

“Defeat? More like acceptance of the failure on your parents part. If they had raised you right, I wouldn’t have to have this argument with you,” Vera replied with an air of confidence, hoping Gideon would take the antagonizing bait.

He could feel it -- that twinge of irritation. No, irritation wasn’t even the half of it -- the anger at the boundary she had crossed and yet his smile didn’t dampen. he wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction. 

“If raising their children to respect equality and basically giving them the go-to guide on how to not be a shit person is considered as failure -- then yes, that sounds about right. Your type of success would keep me up at night and I’d rather be a failure than be considered as anything similar to whatever vile thing you are -- honestly, do you get any sleep? Curious to how the other side lives--” 

[thegiddyprewett]

groovekinnon:

There was little – if any – hesitation in response to Gideon’s reply. Marlene had donned her leather jacket and spent five solid minutes unfurling the collar before she remembered it was too hot outside to wear it. As she swapped it for a fringed shawl, her movements slowed. She remembered so suddenly that it almost made her dizzy just how dangerous and unleveled the playing field was whenever they were at Gideon’s. Her white flag was permanently tucked in whatever vase the Prewetts kept their umbrellas. No, Marlene needed to send another owl before she was on her way.

I’ll be at the Leaky. Be there or be square.

—McKinnon

He wasn’t one to care about appearances but considering the fact that Albert had a field day with what used to be a socially acceptable living room, he was a bit grateful for the abrupt owl he had received. A hint of a smile toyed at his lips at her last statement, as if it was enough to fix them. His gaze dropped to his current state of wear, “fuck it” he mumbled at the sight of his jeans and t-shirt he wore a bit too often, he was comfortable -- what he wore wasn’t going to change what was about to happen and with that he was off. 

The Leaky was right in sight as his hands furthered into his pockets, regardless of how many times they had done this -- that talk that had his heart racing and his breath short, for the first time he was craving the need to do it -- he felt relief. The type of relief that only came from answers and even if it wasn’t something his heart wanted to hear, his mind wasn’t going to be a blurred mess. Stepping in, it didn’t take too long to find those blond locks, he’d spot her a mile away if he could -- 

“Hi--”

[thegiddyprewett]

war is kind + text messages (11/?)

feat. gideon prewett and fabian prewett (@thegiddyprewett, @fabianprewettdoesthings)

[thegiddyprewett]

groovekinnon:

How many times had Marlene showed up on Gideon’s doorstep unannounced?

Too many. She answered her own question in record time as she watched heat roll through the air outside her flat, her gaze grazing past the steel-toed horizon of her feet, her fingers resting as coldly on the spoon in her mug as the hour old coffee inside it was. And yet, as she thought about her visit with Frank the day before, about the fact that he was probably officially engaged by now, it was very difficult to care about her record when today was an obvious emergency, a special case that shouldn’t have been counted against the rest.

And yet—

“Brian!”

The tiny screech owl appeared, resting on the rim of her coffee mug as if he’d been there before his owner had called for him, though not before dropping a fresh piece of parchment between them on the table. Marlene reached for a spare quill and scribbled quickly, sending it (and the owl) away before she could worry about how desperate the words might seem.

I need to see you.

— McKinnon

He couldn’t remember the last time he had a quiet Sunday -- the last few months had been a flurry of family lunches and overtime that he had insisted on taking. It was of his own doing and he knew he had nothing to complain about and yet as he dug himself into the worn out couch, Alfred happily curled in his lap-- he had a new appreciation for the day. The mug that had once been steaming now cooled into something that would often have people scrunching their noses in disgust, and yet as he took a sip, the liquid was anything but offensive. 

His quiet lull soon came to an end as watched the Owl perch itself on the table before him, he had to just leave his window open and before the disdain could truly etch itself in him, he took note of the little create -- one he was too familiar with. Carefully retrieving the note from its talons, the familiar scrawl tugged at his heart -- he could read over those six words as much as he wanted and yet it didn’t make it any less real. He didn’t hesitate to tug out a spare piece of parchment and his quill-- 

Come. 

--Gideon 

One word. It had been all he could muster and yet he felt as if it was more than enough -- as if saying more would not be enough. He didn’t want to dwell on the confusion -- he wanted to thrive on the curiosity and yet he couldn’t help but wonder what had brought this on. Was she coming over to end it? As if they weren’t already on the brink of it -- saying it aloud was something different altogether.

[thegiddyprewett]

veraavery:

“I’m not even going to try to convince you into my way of thinking, Prewett,” Vera said with a scoff, “You’re beyond helping, as far as I can tell.”

“Is that defeat I hear? Music to my ears--”

[thegiddyprewett]

dawnmwithey:

“Sure. Rascal will probably be a good influence.”

“He needs one of those -- Fab and I aren’t really the best--”

[thegiddyprewett]

afallenstxr:

“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

“What would be the other?” 

[thegiddyprewett]

dawnmwithey:

“He is,” Dawn couldn’t wipe the small smile off her face. “I am too, though.”

“But with patience, eventually he won’t be ruining your pillows.”

“I’m happy for you--” a smile etched at his lips, “remind me to let you doggy sit--experience him and then tell me that patience works--”

[thegiddyprewett]

veraavery:

“Yes, I can see that,” Vera replied, crossing her arms, “But why here?” She liked that location specifically because it usually didn’t play host to people she’d rather avoid. There were usually more purebloods than anyone else. And yet here was a blood traitor, plain as day.

“Can we just skip to the part about why you give a shit or the bit where you force your views down my throat? Because frankly, I think we both know that i don’t owe you shit, let alone an explanation--” shrugging as he cocked a brow, he had an assignment in the area and after a day like that, he had strode into the nearest pub, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. 

[thegiddyprewett]

groovekinnon:

“Forget it,” Marlene hissed quietly.

[thegiddyprewett]

caradocdearborns:

“Thriving, Prewett, clearly.”

”Yourself?”

“Thriving --”

“Work has yet to get me down, I even think that I’m winning”

[thegiddyprewett]

dawnmwithey:

“Charity, definitely,” Dawn responded with a small laugh, tilting her head slightly as she brought her attention back to Gideon. “Benjy.”

“You just have to have patience. Patience and treats.”

“Fenwick?” his smile widening, “he got lucky-- he must be lucky if you’re looking at him like that--” 

“Easier said than done. He wrecked my pillow when I tried to offer him patience--”

[thegiddyprewett]

marymacxx:

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It sounds like it would stress you out far too much,” Mary said, chuckling quietly.

“Hm. I was alright, I guess. Got an E on the O.W.L. and the N.E.W.T. That was probably just because I was decent at doing the homework, though. I doubt I’m going to win any awards for prediction anytime soon.”

“Exactly and stress isn’t good for me, Macdonald. You do not want a stressed out Prewett -- very rare sighting and not pleasant at all --” 

“Well, you never know if you don’t try--”

[thegiddyprewett]

veraavery:

“What are you doing in here?”

“Having a drink. You should try it -- you look like you need one--”

[thegiddyprewett]

Gideon Prewett

Age/Year: 23; Gryffindor 1974 Affiliation: Order of the Phoenix Blood Status: Pureblood Occupation: Obliviator FC: Sam Claflin

TRAITS

+ adventuresome; compassionate; protective – restless; bullheaded; defensive

BIOGRAPHY

Gideon Prewett came into the world kicking up a storm, the younger one of the duo by an irritating ten minutes-– or as his mum would refer to It, an excruciating ten minutes of her life. He always knew that his twin would define him. Growing up in a home that definitely wasn’t seen as worthy of a pureblood was what set him in motion, his childhood filled with laughter and adventures; with Fabian by his side, it was anything but ordinary. Never to sit still, always on the move, Gideon sure gave their mum her own personal set of migraines once a week. Why can’t you be a bit more like your brother – was certainly a line that was at his ear growing up, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Fabian was arguably just as bad as him, if anything he had a better knack for concealment, Gideon knew it was a whisper of frustration, nothing more, nothing less and not once in his life had he ever resented Fabian. Not one second. Envy was a touch and go and it was more of a momentary lapse than something that rot away in his gut and even in his envy, it was more admiration. They were alike, two sides of the same coin and he knew they had the same temperament, but what he could never grasp was how Fabian kept it in check. His brother was his better half in his eyes; he had never felt more connected to someone than he did with Fabian. No one knew or understood him the way he did – even if it was a glance or when Gideon would go off his rocker – he just knew when to jump, when to stop him and keep him in check.

Despite how ready he said he was for his first year, nothing could have prepared him for the reality of the Wizarding world. Blood supremacy, prejudice, war-– ideas flung at him as if they were the norm. He could never shake the feeling of disdain and the way his gut had wrenched the first time he had heard the word mudblood-– something so vicious coming out of a boy his age with a name that was all too familiar. That was what he was supposed to feel too-– or at least that’s what he understood from the boy’s mockery and once the initial shock had faded, the rage had kicked in. He refused to stomach it all, and he wasn’t the only one. This wasn’t normal and it wasn’t right, and as he watched Fabian struggle to believe it all as well, he knew that something had changed them. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. His skin got tougher, his words got harsher and he took on the roll of the bold and daring far more seriously. He spent a bit too much of his time in detention, usually the consequence of speaking out and making a stance. But as he sat in his seat waiting for his hour of punishment to be up, it dawned on him that he wanted to make this a permanent kind of thing. He wanted to fight for people who couldn’t fight for themselves—he had chosen a side.

The Order of the Phoenix was his higher calling. There was no hesitation. He knew he wanted to help, and the fact that Fabian was joining was the only validation he needed; he was going to be by his side. Gideon never really struggled when it came to figuring out what he wanted. He was going to be at the Ministry, that was something he was sure of. He didn’t have the best bedside manner, so the healing profession was well out of his reach. As he went down the list of options during his seventh year, obliviator caught his eye. It had seemed simple enough, a career that would keep him in the Ministry of Magic and something that would definitely come in handy for the Order. He hadn’t realized how much of a toll it was going to take on him until his first task; it had been a child, a Muggle child. He didn’t realize how much one single spell, something that was done to prevent exposure – to help maintain order – could feel so wrong.  Not wanting his ability to do his job to be called in questions, his fears, the guilt stayed buried as he masked his worries with a smile, as he looked for the silver lining of it all, a reason for that smile to be genuine.

With his year being a flurry of poor choices and having to endure a suspension, Gideon was turning over a new leaf-– or he was trying. He knew that his temper – that his impulsiveness – was the reason he had spent six weeks losing his mind, finding anything and everything to do. The one thing that came from it was his understanding that he couldn’t do it again. If he wanted to progress in his career, if he wanted to be the person that could walk away, picking a fight at a bar was not the way to do it. Gideon’s attention has been divided – his mind racing between the Order, the Ministry and attempting to have something for himself. Now would be the time for him to burn out, but all he could find himself doing is racing ahead.

PLOT POINTS

I. If there’s one thing Gideon has gained from his three months of probation, it’s time. Time to complain about his situation. Time to punch his pillows flat in frustration. Time to worry about not being able to contribute to the Order at all. The latter, at least, was resolved by his twin brother, Fabian, whose personal studies in Arithmancy looked more promising than ever. After seeing eerily close predictions of Death Eater related incidents in his brother’s notes, Gideon began to do some research and work of his own. Only two weeks into his work, he already had a full fledged project on his hands: to help the Order sniff out all the locations where these new Inferi creatures are being created, and burn them to the ground. A year later, their project seems to be making progress. Gideon can only hope that time is still on their side for this one, if they haven’t run out of it yet.

II. Gideon never really knew how to be cautious. Considering his line of work, it was surprising that still to this day he dove in headfirst, rather than trekking through carefully and attempting to stay alive—a habit that soon came to bite him in the ass as he stumbled across something rather deadly. The pain was barely manageable and soon heightened as the curse spread across his arm—something that had him stumbling to Miriam Strout. He needed a quick fix to a problem that he had feeling wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and yet he needed a way to get up and do his damn job. Gideon was finally back in the swing of things, and risking his job and his place in the Order was not something he was willing to do and for that reason alone he turned to the only curse-breaker he could trust enough to keep his mouth shut: Sturgis Podmore.

OTHER CONNECTIONS

Charlie Farley: Gideon had always been fairly friendly, and yet he only had a handful of people that knew him inside out, that he’d trust with his life. Despite the long absence, Charlie Farley was certainly one of them. Gideon loathed the thought of missing out, and in this case, he felt like he had missed an entire chapter. Despite the lack of contact that wasn’t his doing, Gideon was hell bent on mending their friendship and regaining what they once had. Aside from Fabian and Frank, Charlie had always been his lighthearted voice of reason.

Peter Pettigrew: Gideon liked to think that he had his priorities in check and was on top of his responsibilities and yet their was one duty he was certainly shirking in: mentoring. Peter Pettigrew was his responsibility and that training was something he certainly was neglecting. He’d blame his hectic work schedule, his suspension, and his personal life, and yet none of those were valid reasons. He was going to help him or do the best that he can to ensure he wasn’t the reason why the young man was unprepared.

FATE

Gideon DOES NOT SURVIVE the FIRST WIZARDING WAR.

Gideon Prewett is TAKEN.

[thegiddyprewett]

aliceprewett:

Alice laughed softly as she took Gideon’s hands and pushed herself up. “July. Nothing further than that. I imagine we’ll figure it all out once he more officially proposes. Of course, I might already have a note book I’m attempting to keep from his eyes of ideas and plans.”

“That’s soon--” his gaze widening, “really soon--” he chuckled, “of course you have a book--why the secrecy?”