#it's already wednesday technically but since we're here

[nocturnerpg]

EXO Chen as Sangil Chae classification: vampire┊salizar

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[cypionate60mg]

Hi! I love your work. It's really thrilling to find art at the intersection of philosophy, gender, and the erotic. You seem to be really thoughtful and intentional about your presentation of these pieces, so I'm curious about why you tag everything with "autoandrophilia" which IME is a pretty loaded word with a complex etymology. Would love to understand more!

Thanks, and good question. My answer is very long.

Before we go any futher, Blanchard's typology is transmisogynist bullshit. It's oversimplified, misinformed, and unimaginative. He actually abandoned the term 'autoandrophile' and has since switched to 'autohomoerotic'. More controversial online circles of trans people half-ironically identify with Blanchardian typology. For some, it's like MBTI, and for others, it's their self-diagnosis. Depends on the person.

When contemporary Western psychology began to take shape in the Wednesday Psychological Society's weekly meetings, one of the 'defects' they discussed was homosexuality. According to E. James Lieberman's biography of Otto Rank, he said in an informal setting that homosexuality is "love for one's self as seen in the persona of another like oneself whom one admires...strongly built up on narcissism. It is an ego symptom and not a sex symptom." Sound familiar? I don't think Blanchard's typology is all that different from that of early European psychoanalysis.

We see this same critique levied against trans people. That we're confusing attraction for identity, our self-love is fetishistic, and we're narcissistic neurotic perverts. But we can't just dismiss and ignore it, because we do indeed see trans people say things like "I can't tell if I want to be him or fuck him" or "become the person you'd want to date." 'Autoandrophile' starts to sound a lot like 'gender envy'. So what is actually happening here?

To even approach answering that, let's ask more questions. What does it mean to love people who look like you? If you are estranged from your own body, or if your body changes over time, is it morally objectionable to love a specific version of youself? Even a future one? It it also morally objectionable for that self-love to have a sexual dimension?

Trans people are expected to have the clarity of mind to separate who they are from who they're attracted to. (It's one of the demands society makes to ensure you are 'of sound mind' while still being suitably pathological to deserve hormonal/surgical treatment.) But if you don't necessarily identify with your body, then you already exist outside of that distinction. Like an open window, the barrier between inside (self) and outside (everything else) becomes troublesome.

Do you see now why I like the mirror metaphor so much? When you look in a reflection, that's not technically you. But it only exists because you are there to cast an image. The room's mirror image, too, is not necessarily real, but you gain insight into the room, maybe even see it in a new way, precisely because it's reflected back inaccurately. Your conception of yourself is filled out with detail when you cross-reference it with another version of yourself, one that doesn't exist in the same way you currently do.

It's some ontological quantum gender shit. And it's not unique to trans people. Cis people can experience it too, but they rely on the assumption that it's natural to have an oppositional 'counterpart', a 'complementary' partner. Somebody who completes them. Why, then, can't I complete myself?

We find ourselves back at your question. If Blanchard isn't going to use 'autoandrophile', then I will. One man's trash is another man's treasure. I'll use it to:

disrupt its definition.

challenge trans assimilationists.

discomfort cis men with my desire to be like them, or worse—to encourage them to define their masculinity.

provoke people into thoughtful discussions.

make people feel less alone.

But mostly, I use it so that when people look for the term, this blog will come up, and they'll see my porn. Or art. Or whatever they'll want to call it. And they'll start asking themselves the distinctions between any of these things.

There's so much more I could say about all this. Autoandrophilia's relationship to beauty standards, its usefulness (or lack thereof) as a coping mechanism for the limitation of transition, etcetera. But I'll stop here for now.

Much love, CYP60MG

[crownprincecody]

WIP Wednesday

It's been months since I've written anything at all, let alone for the ship that I adore. But, today I woke up with inspiration and - to prove I've returned from my hermit like existence in a deep cave somewhere - I thought I'd share a little something.

So, without further ado, I present a small rough snippet of an upcoming fic in my original Senator Obi-Wan series.

"How can you be so calm?" Padmé hissed out of the corner of her mouth, eyes following the team of bounty hunters holding them hostage.

"I've been kidnapped eight times," Obi-Wan replied softly, standing in the midst of his fellow hostages as serenely as anyone ever had.

If anyone had a right to serenity amidst abduction it was Obi-Wan. He held the record for the most kidnappings - attempted or otherwise - among the cohort of Republic Senators - past and present. Yes, it was true that four of his kidnappings technically didn't count, as the would-be kidnappers were thwarted in their efforts before they left Coruscant and once before the kidnapper had so much as said halt. But the principle remained nonetheless.

He had been the victim of so many attempted kidnappings that it was practically routine to him now.

Distantly, Obi-Wan realised that ought to worry him more than it did. But, there were more pressing matters to concern him. Like the squad of heavily armed mercenaries currently keeping them hostage. And the severe glare Commander Fox would give him when he realised how much danger Obi-Wan had found himself in this time.

Somehow, he felt that maintaining that this was demonstrably not his fault was not going to buy him any favours with the crotchety commander.

"This isn't a kidnapping," Bail whispered, moving ever so slightly closer to them. "We're being held hostage."

Obi-Wan inclined his head fractionally, conceding his point. "Which makes this distinctly easier for our rescuers. They already know where we are."

Riyo Chuchi sidled closer to them, her eyes impossibly wide as she took in the scene unfolding in the Senate building atrium. "And the squad of heavily armed mercenaries between us and rescue?"

Obi-Wan hummed softly, understanding Senator Chuchi's point. Still, he smiled; heavily armed mercenaries were nothing in the face of what was coming for them. "Padmé has friends in the Jedi Order. I was a part of the Jedi Order, and-" Obi-Wan's tone softened impossibly, fully aware how besotted he was. "Cody's here on leave."

And his dear Commander was going to be very displeased when he realised Obi-Wan was being held hostage.

Obi-Wan pitied the unfortunate lifeforms who made the mistake of accepting this job.

"Two Jedi with reputations for insanity, one marshall commander who has a reputation for being prepared to destroy Coruscant to find you, and as many of his brothers as the Commander can rustle up," Chuchi shuddered elegantly, a smile hiding about her lips. "How much chaos can one Senate building contain?"

"It doesn't have to contain it," Obi-Wan murmured, watching the nearest mercenary with wary eyes. "Not for long, at any rate. With Anakin and Cody both involved, we should be free in time for the next debate."

Bail's mouth pulled down in an unhappy frown. "Maybe we can hold out a little longer."

Obi-Wan bit back a chuckle. He hadn't particularly been looking forward to the upcoming Senate debate either.

"No talking!"

Obi-Wan favoured the masked mercenary with a baleful glare. "We're politicians," he reminded him, as if that pertinent fact could have slipped his mind. "All we do is talk. You'll have to forgive us for following our natural inclinations."

Bail sighed, quietly despairing. "Obi-Wan, I don't want to explain to Cody why it was necessary for the mercenaries to shoot you."

[monbons]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @thewholelemon and @shrekgogurt. Your stuff looks so good (yes ALL of it Jenny! Stop doubting yourself!) and I cannot wait until it is out in the world. Thanks also to @hushed-chorus -- I already devoured the two fics on your list I had never heard of and they were SOO good! We're very much on the same wavelength with vamp angst.

You know what’s not as fun as everyone's updates? Developing a truly distinct voice for a fic and then trying to break out of it once you are done. I love my narrator for The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, but flowery prose/omniscient third-person doesn't work for most fics! I'm trying to ease my transition back into first person POV switching by writing a sequel to my EGF fic, Kill Em With Kindness. It doesn’t need a sequel, but it’s been a fun way to get back to throwing words on the page and seeing what sticks. (I wrote 1k words over the past couple days, which is way more than I have since I finished Eternal Life! Are the words any good? Debatable. But progress is progress...)

In the meantime, here is a bit of current Baz from chapter 5 under the cut. Not technically spoilery if you haven’t started reading, but honestly, you should be forced to wait just as long as everyone who has been reading for this meet-cute…so I forbid you from clicking if you haven’t started yet!!!

“Hey—uh—there’s a long line—” the young man smiles awkwardly, “—so if you aren’t ready, maybe you should step aside?” Baz regains control of his mind and mouth briefly enough to utter an order. “Pumpkin mocha breve. Small.” The young man laughs. “Are you a child?” “What?” “That drink sounds gross.” He wrinkles his nose. “Certainly much too sweet for a grown man to drink before his morning run.” Baz is well and truly shocked from his reverie now. He glances at the young man’s name tag. Simon.  “I’m perfectly serious, Simon. Can you not make it?” Baz raises an eyebrow.  “I can.” Simon shrugs. “I’d rather not.”

Hellos and high-fives: @roomwithanopenfire, @cutestkilla, @beastmonstertitan, @bookish-bogwitch, @rbkzz (loving your art! keep it coming!)

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @drowninginships, @valeffelees, @skee3000

@aristocratic-otter, @emeryhall, @cattocavo, @raenestee, @iamamythologicalcreature

@best--dress, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @arthurkko, @noblecorgi, @larkral

@comesitintheclover, @artsyunderstudy, @ic3-que3n, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @whatevertheweather

[laughroditee]

WIP Wednesday

I've been on a break trying to get my actual real life work done and for sad brain reasons, but I've also been working on a Price fic based on this headcanon I made a little while ago. Here is a preview! (Not edited yet so excuse whatever errors you may see.)

Since this one is based on the song "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails, which has a lot of religious imagery, I've decided to structure the sex scene into phases of worship, starting with how John enters "ritual space," which, in this case, is him taking a shower and having a wank, a ritualistic cleansing before meeting his deity (you!).

As a pagan ex-Catholic, I'm drawing on my own experiences and what I've noticed around how those communities structure worship, so it may not be technically accurate to the letter or to your individual experience. (Not to mention we're applying it to sex so... VERY different environment!) In other words, I am just having fun with it and am most likely going to Hell. Just kidding, I am already there. Haha, just kidding again. I fooled you. 😑

I also have a fascination with cults (is this a religious trauma thing?), though that's a different story. Fun fact about cults is that there is no division between normal time and ritual time, between normal space and ritual space, which is part of how they control and mold their followers. But I digress!

I have no idea when this will be out since I'm very much behind in real life work, so I only write when I can squeeze it in, and I'm a naturally slow writer. I also have no idea how good it will be or how many chiles hot it will be (that's a rating system, right? The Three Chiles Hotness Scale™️?), but it will at least lack the bittersweet element that the sex scene in "Your Ghost" chapter 3 had, so it probably won't make you cry, unless it is actually very bad. No pressure or anything, Future Me.

I also have a couple of drabbles in my drafts box which will probably come out first (one being a cute Nikolai thing), if I get the time to get them out.

Okay bye. 🖤🤡🖤

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

I'm taking a bit of a break from Polyship week (I'd still like to write today's prompt 'soulmates' but I'll probably try to post it on the free day instead since I don't have a single word written for it) but it's still Wednesday, so I've got a little something! I don't know when I'll actually sit down to work on it next, but I have a bit of the next chapter of Technically A Cutsleeve started, so here's that. We're switching back to Mo Xuanyu's POV after having Jingyi's for a bit.

--//--

Cloud Recesses is precisely as Mo Xuanyu remembers it. He hasn’t stepped foot in Gusu in years, not since a discussion conference years ago when Mianmian was too sick to come and Zixuan had needed an advisor. But he can say with confidence that very very little has changed for the Lan seat of power since then.

They’re welcomed with all the proper pomp and circumstance befitting a visiting Sect Leader and his entourage, the occasion so unlike when any of their family — yes, even the Lan family — comes to visit them in Jinlintai. Meng Yao is at least there to join Qingheng-Jun in welcoming them, and he’s the one who shows them to their guest quarters rather than the high-ranking disciples who flank their Sect Leader for the welcome. It’s all very…stuffy. Very Lan, even the part when Meng Yao takes over, guides them away, and lets his father-in-law greet the next retinue. He’s even wearing Lan blue as he does for most special occasions, though Mo Xuanyu will allow he at least has small hints of Jin gold and Nie silver or green dispersed tastefully through trimmings or jewelry (and of course his vermillion mark sits squarely between his unmistakably Jin brows). He seems to take this duty seriously, since he acts all proper and Lan just like everyone else, unlike when he comes to Jinlintai and actually relaxes for a minute. 

It’s been less than a shichen and Mo Xuanyu’s skin is starting to crawl with the desire to stop all this stoic nonsense and act like they’re actually a family, damn it.

“You didn’t have to accompany me, Yu-didi,” Zixuan reminds him — gently, for him — once they’re safely ensconced in Zixuan’s quarters and Mo Xuanyu is free to pace back and forth with voluminous swishes of perfumed silk. “Why the sudden interest in discussion conferences anyway? You haven’t been to one outside of Jinlintai in ages.”

“Just felt like a change of scenery and you were already coming here anyway,” Mo Xuanyu shrugs, the lie smooth and easy in a way his oldest brother will never be able to accomplish (and that his second brother taught him how to do). “Besides, I need to annoy Uncle Lan, Xichen-gege said he’s working himself too hard again lately.”

Lan Xichen has, in fact, told him no such thing, but if there is anything Mo Xuanyu can rely on in this world it’s that Lan Qiren is perpetually in a state of overworking himself whilst reminding everyone else around him to properly balance their lives. Someone needs to cajole the old man into resting, and though Wei Wuxian is well placed to be that person he apparently doesn’t do it unless things get dire. Probably because he’s busy overworking himself too and is kind of shitty at recognizing it in anyone else. The longer Mo Xuanyu thinks about it, the more he’s able to almost convince himself that’s actually why he tagged along this time.

The true reason is, of course, a secret, one that literally no one but him knows. For his entire life, up until roughly two months ago, Mo Xuanyu has very loudly and very firmly declared that though he appreciates the male form, he has very little (or no) desire to appreciate it up close and personal — certainly not for any significant length of time. He’s considered it recently in an abstract sort of way, but nothing serious.

And then Lan Jingyi just had to tumble into Jinlintai and made a liar out of him. So rude! Though Mo Xuanyu had kept his distance as much as he could during the last week of the boys’ visit, it would’ve been ridiculously rude to ignore the boys when they’d gone out of their way to help him feel included, and considering the most vocal of the four of them in wanting him around had been Lan Jingyi…is it any wonder Mo Xuanyu had developed a crush?

[xenon-demon]

WIP Wednesday

thank you so much @sailors-ink for the tag!!! <3 it's technically thursday for me now (gotta love being australian) but shhhh it's fine WIP Wednesday is a state of mind ✨

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We're posting progress here. If you haven't made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you've posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That's it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPs:

1. steddie domestic hairwashing 2. cheerscoops fake dating season 3 au (steddie/buckingham) 3. when you come back, it's gravity (kas!steve au) 4. med student steve & nurse eddie who is sick of his shit 5. doctor who steddie indulgence

And the snippet I'm posting is from steddie domestic hairwashing:

“You know there isn’t actually a hospital policy about bathing?” Steve’s barely shut the door behind him before he starts speaking.   Eddie feels a thrill of anxiety shoot through his chest and hopes to whatever higher power there might be that his heart rate monitor doesn’t pick up on it. “What?” It comes out way too strained, and Eddie’s really got to get a grip on himself. Just because he feels like a deer in the headlights right now doesn’t mean he needs to act like it, for fuck’s sake. “There isn’t a hospital policy about who can help you shower, or go to the toilet, or whatever. You don’t have to put up with the shitty sponge baths from the nurses anymore,” Steve says, his voice bright and excited about this, the absolute bastard. Eddie swallows, trying desperately to school his features into something calmer. “Oh. How, um, how’d you find that out?” “I asked one of the nurses,” Steve replies, like it’s obvious, and of course he fucking did. God damn Steve Harrington and his stupid god damned helpful nature. "Sure, you can't have an actual shower, since you still have bandages and stuff on. But as long as we don't get them wet, there's nothing stopping me from washing your hair or helping you get cleaned up." “Right,” Eddie says, and he knows he should say something, crack some kind of joke like I’m surprised the nurses will speak to anyone associated with me, but he can’t bring himself to. He sees it on Steve’s face the moment he notices that Eddie isn’t as excited about this as Steve is. “What’s wrong?” Steve asks, brows furrowing slightly. He’s much quieter now. “I thought your hair was bothering you? Since, y’know, we had that conversation��”

Aaaaand I'm honestly not sure who to tag since I've seen most of my writer mutuals post for WIP Wednesday already, so I'm gonna say if you see this and want to do it but haven't been tagged, then do it and say I tagged you! <3

[oniiion-studies]

"Though you probably couldn't describe it, you still knew it when you saw it... there's electricity in the air, the ground seems to rumble... You've never seen anything like it." - Lead Like IT Matters, Craig Groeschel

sept 6 2024 - friday.

it's been a while since any original content came across this old studyblr, but i'm here with an update!

I STARTED MY INTERNSHIP!!

i have been BEYOND busy with meetings, coffee dates, and book readings that i was definitely unprepared for. in fact, i have to get to the middle of Lead Like IT Matters by wednesday for the next staff meeting. not a huge deal, but quite a bit of reading considering i just got the book yesterday (sept 5).

the only struggle i've had so far is the printer in the family life office. my supervisor sends me to the printer dang near 6 or 7 times in the day; making copies, replenishing the paper, cleaning the printheads, what have you. our worship resident (we love JOSH) thinks he's got the printer figured out, but we almost always run into "technical difficulties". we're all just learning together :)

today (sept 6) i:

went to a cafe with friends - i got a creme brulatte, which is a vanilla latte with caramelized sugar on the top. HIGHLY recommend

got invited to a chapel service at a university nearby

sent out the plan for middle school youth group (i've already got two band members confirmed!!)

met my water goals

ate a nice meal

tomorrow (sept 7) i will:

go to a funeral

do laundry

wash dishes

catch up on reading

[hislittleraincloud]

is your content 18+? i wanna read your stuff when i get the chance (work and such) but i know a lot of writers on here are uncomfortable with people under 18 on their blogs. i am 17 though lol

It's labeled as such on AO3, but I have always used the MPAA label "NC-17" (even though these aren't movies). That's the old school MPAA label for things rated X.

I know that my haters are going to love this, but I honestly don't give a crap about who reads what (unless they're really young, see below) since people are going to read whatever they can get their hands on regardless of age.

What people — writers included — don't comprehend is that writers are not babysitters. And as cute as I'm sure some of y'are, I'm not here to babysit anyone. I'm here to write and publish, and whatever moral arguments I'm having about what I write and publish, I assume that those who want to argue with me over them are other adults 18 and over.

Someone asked the question "What responsibility do I have towards very young readers?" over on the Reddit 🤖 and I think the responses are sound: Writers don't have any responsibility than to write what they write and tag it appropriately. You wouldn't be a very young reader (the kid the above Redditor was concerned about was 12 and I'd rather not 12-year-olds seek out/read my work), so there's that. Websites in general have a lowest age threshold of thirteen (this place, AO3, Facebook, LiveJournal, etc.), so it's really up to your parents to babysit you when you're that young and approaching/reading online media. Older teens don't need babysitters though, so tread as you will through the online forest of fandom salaciousness...no one's here to judge you (they're here to judge me 🥲) and no imaginary entity is going to send you to Hell or prison for reading what I write.

And as much as my haters would love to see it, I'm not going to Hell or prison for what I write...I live in the States, where Free Speech/freedom of artistic expression applies and there are strong laws protecting this kind of written word. 🫠🇺🇲💕✨

I will only strongly advise anyone reading what I write that: It is fantasy* fiction, take it for the fantasy fiction that it is, just as you would take any horror or gore writings/films/media as fantasy fiction. People get all twisted and bent out of shape about sex and relationships while permitting gore and violence, which has forever intrigued and baffled me. I mean, to me it's choosing between sensation/feeling alive and desensitization/feeling dead inside.

Anyway, the content published on AO3 is labeled as 18+ as that's how the site is/how most sites run for works containing 'adult content'. My (completed) 10-year-old Borgias story here is rated R, but if you never watched the show you'd be a little lost (just a little...but if you love Renaissance Italy/the time of Alexander VI, you might be o.k.). I would probably label Under Virgin Circumstances more benignly than Afterburn, if only for that Cairo is 18, while Wednesday is (currently, where she is stuck in November 2022) 16. (However, placed side-by-side, Wednesday's mental maturity is comparable to, if not surpassing that of, Cairo's...I have yet to publish, but UVCCairo has some cuckoo bird issues that Afterburn Wednesday doesn't have, and that makes her a little less mature, even though she's technically older. But I digress. 💀)

The Teal Deer: I'm not one of those writers who is uncomfortable with 17-year-olds on here because I was once a 17-year-old who had already read and written (and drawn) dirty stuff by that age; as well, it's a neverending conveyor belt of fandomers coming into their own (we're just at the tail end of a Gen Z phase right now...in just a year, the Gen Alphas will be the thick of younger fandom (14 to 16 year olds), and they will grow/mature just as the Z's are ageing out of fandomish things/the bulk generally move on towards functional adulting). As a longtime Gen X author of fan fiction, my only responsibilities here are to write and comply with the rules of publication.

(Wow, kinda scary to think that the oldest Gen Zer is almost 30...damn....)

[tetrisfinished]

here we go again - my head and my heart are in conflict again.

i don't get why logic doesn't work on my heart.

or i guess i should say my "heart", because really the logic of my brain is just in conflict with the emotion of my brain.

we're at my parents' place today - yesterday (saturday) my mom hosted a dawat for my cousin and her husband for completing hajj. we all came together as a family but of course yasir left with my cousin and his family (since they live close by to us) to hitch a ride back home with them.

he was gone on thursday night until 1 in the morning (he left around 10 or 11 pm though).

he was gone all of friday for work and then with his buddies he planned a night out in mississauga. he got back home around 3 in the morning.

and today, sunday, a full day out of the long weekend, he has plans with his buddies for the day. probably to go to tobermory or somewhere along these lines.

and i mean, i'm not fighting him about this. i let him go wherever - she said as if "let" is the correct word to use there. he asked me about these plans - she says as if "ask" is the correct word to use there.

and even though i know, it's been made wildly clear to me that while yasir does love esa and maybe even me, we just aren't his first or top most prioirity. and even though i know you're supposed to believe people when they show you how you rank in their lives. and even though last weekend he once again showed me the exact same thing by not making any plans with me under the guise of his upcoming medical procedure (on wednesday of this past week), he still ended up spending a whole weekend with his family at the cottage.

while esa and i did our thing together at wonderland and my friends' baby shower.

even though i know and see and accept all of these things. my heart is heavy tonight with the knowledge and proof of how we are not his top priority.

and i don't get it.

i know these things to be true.

i understand this. i have logicked it all out for myself. i GET IT. so why do i just not GET IT.

why does the lump still form in my throat?

why do i keep hoping for change when the proof of everything, plain and simple, is right in front of my eyes.

why do i keep hoping he'll wake up one day and realize what he's missing out on in his kids' life. why do i keep hoping for things i know for a fact will not be happening.

why do i keep being surprised when i am treated as if i am trying to take unfair advantage of him by using his money for things like the 407.

why do i keep being surprised or hurt by his behavioure as if my feelings will or are ever considered in his life?

and i'm trying to change. i'm trying to force myself all the time to arrive at the logical conclusion. to accept this behaviour. to be okay. to be happy.

and for the most part i think i might be pulling it off just fine. i've got my kid to look out for. my sweet, sensitive kid, who already has started to compare himself to everyone else about every other aspect of his life. i've got my kid to spend time with and make memories with.

i just don't get how i get my part of it wrong every single time.

how do i manage to just....be so wrong all the time? how do i manage to make these decisions.

what is the right decision? i don't know honestly.

how do i find out. therapy didn't help.

i mean, i think it did, i get things now the way i should.

i guess it's still on me for sticking around and keeping that same wound open and bleeding when i could technically leave and close up my heart - give it i a chance to heal.

but once again - that's my fault.

it just....sometimes it feels like too much to ask of ONE PERSON to be making all of these life decisions. it feels like too much to ask of one person to make this grand huge decision to leave, part ways, it just feels like a really fucking shitty situation and i wish i could accept the help when i ask for it. but i can't seem to even be able to do that so....here we are.

my life and my being....it's a fucking joke. i wish i could make esa forget my existence and pass him to parents who would care and cherish him the way he deserves. to parents who wold listen and love him. to parents who are happy and respectful with each other. to parents who genuinely and truly love each other and him. his quality of life would increase so much if it wasn't 2 parents constantly bickering at each other, 2 parents constantly in conflict. granted we do still love him, but there you have it folks. i've made a fucking joke out of parenting this goddamn AMAZING little kid, the absolute biggest fucking blessing i have and will EVER receive from Allah swt. so there. you. have. it.

-k

[stressedlawsecretary]

Today's Focus

12.06.23 - It's looking more and more like the season around here, but we're getting weird weather on the way so who knows if the snow will stick around. However, with snow it gets even colder and my house is already at 70F so since I don't want to bump the heat up (yet; that might happen as it gets colder) I'm wrapped up in two blankets, one of which is heated. My mom used to call me a lizard - guess why lol.

Work - Whatever comes in lol. Technically there's a leftover efile I should check, but it's for a lawyer who is not assigned to me so it's extremely not important for me. I think there's a couple of press releases I could read? Hopefully it being slow means I get to do other stuff I want to do.

Background Noise - I start the day with 100 on the Watch Later, which isn't as bad as it looks because I always add like a handful of videos to the thing when I open up YT in the morning. Though it is remote work day and therefore DVR binging.

Considering I managed to do 23 different videos yesterday, I'm pretty proud of my numbers and I'm looking to work in some more YT around the DVR stuff today.

Study - Well it's Wednesday so it's visual study day, which makes binging the DVR easier since I have a lot of news programs and such on there. Which means I want to:

Read at least three (3) articles on environmental conservation

Get off at least six (6) hrs on the DVR; this should cover at least half of the approx. 12 hrs I have backed up right now.

Watch a saved documentary something on YT

Now I did just as well on my reading/studying as I did on my YT watching yesterday, managing to do the following:

Read the testimony of Carolyn Bryant at Emmett Till's murder trial; this finishes off all of the trial testimonies.

Read four (4) articles on environmental conservation

Read one (1) article on Moms for Liberty

Read six (6) 'good news' articles

Read five (5) pages of the Glass Report

Read the JET Magazine article on Emmett Till's murder

Read William Bradford Huie's follow up article on Emmett Till's murderers

Read an old NYT article about the mysterious death of twin brothers, that formed the (very loose) basis of the movie/TV show Dead Ringers

Read the article Demarginalizing the Intersection Between Race & Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory, and Antiracist Politics

Extras - Okay so I'm going to attend to the catbox, and continue decorating the house. I also seriously want to buckle down and write. The goals here are: finish typing & posting Rant 1, draft Rant 2, begin writing the Gaim fic, re-draft & continue writing the Hades fic. I'd also like to take time to reorganize both my bookmarks on this account and reorganize a few YT playlists.

[jaspxr]

Contagious smiles and late-night surprises

Summary: It's Hotch's birthday and Derek is feeling playful, which might get him fired or laid

Warnings: Food mention

Pairings: Hotchgan, if you squint

Notes: Another one for the @hotch-central's month-long birthday party

The knock on his office door startled him out of his 53rd attempt to rewrite this month's budget calculations and Hotch barely had the time to grab his glasses off of his nose and shove them into the first open drawer before Morgan poked his head in and asked if he had a moment.

He could never say no to Morgan, so he invited him in and waited for the barrage of questions that usually followed him being behind closed doors with the Director for the day. He never regretted letting Morgan take on some of his duties, but it was taking him a while to get used to this sharing process, even when he knew that another set of eyes might actually be helpful.

Instead of questions, he only got a grinning Derek with his hands behind his back, slowly rocking from his heels to his toes, watching him expectantly.

"You wanted to ask me something?" Hotch asked when the silence started to feel too stifling even for him. Derek smiling like that was unnerving. Did he miss some kind of a joke?

"Derek, it is way too late, and I still have to finish those reports before I can go home. If it's nothing urgent...?"

"Shit, man, you really are in a mood today...when's the last time you've been home? Seen Jack? Do you even remember?" Derek finally started talking and it seemed he had no intentions of stopping anytime soon.

"It was ..."

"It was before the last case... a week ago. Hotch, do you even know what day it is?" Derek continued not giving him the chance to come up with one of his signature excuses, but something was missing from his face - the usual exasperation and disappointment he saw when Derek was worried about him. There were no traces of worry. Derek was still smiling.

"Of course I do," Hotch scoffed, "it's Tuesday."

"It's Wednesday! It's past Midnight and everyone has gone home. We're literally the only two people in the office." When Hotch started to protest and moved to get up out of his chair, Morgan just continued: "Listen, I'll just say my peace and I'll leave you alone, okay? I did come in here to ask you something..."

Hotch tried to relax. He even put on his best 'I'm listening' face and braced himself for anything that might come out of Derek's mouth, but it wasn't...

"What's it like to be so old?"

"I'm sorry? "

"You know, since it's already technically your birthday, and not to be ageist or something, but I'm heading in the same direction and I would like to be prepared! You already tired of having to hide those glasses you got a month ago?" Derek was in full swing now.

"How? "

"You have these indentation marks," he tapped his nose, "here, and you go slightly cross-eyed when you take them off in a hurry..." Derek chuckled.

"Morgan." My birthday?

"Oh and your joints? I heard them pop from Rossi's office! Is that a regular thing now, or? I hope that doesn't happen to me, although I am in a better shape than you most days..."

"Derek!"

"Hmm?" Derek finally stopped talking and rocking back and forth like a child on a sugar rush, but that ridiculous grin on his face didn't move an inch. Not that Hotch minded that part. It looked good on Derek. Very good.

"This is highly inappropriate..." Hotch tried to keep his composure, but Derek's mood was contagious and he was having a hard time controlling his own mouth from twitching upwards.

He was about to ask Derek if he'd been drinking, except he knew he'd never drink in the office, despite the bottle of tequila in his upper left cabinet Hotch wasn't supposed to know about. He was about to continue the reprimand, except he was once again stumped by Derek's sudden change of topic.

"You hungry? I asked for cake, but the cafeteria run out." Derek finally put his hands in front of him and produced a box of doughnuts with a couple of unlit candles sticking from the glazed circles of sweet dough. He moved to Hotch's desk, set the box on it and then sat in the chair opposite Hotch.

Hotch was, once again, too stunned to speak, so Derek continued: "Happy birthday! Now give me that other stack of papers so we can get you home before dawn."

[jerzwriter]

NSFW Stats - Tobias & Casey

Very much not for those under 18. Minors do not engage.

When I originally did this way back in 2021, I had only written a handful of fics for the pair - now that they are my main OTP, I have a much better handle on them, and since it's NSFW on @tobias-carrick-appreciation-week, it was the perfect time to revisit. 😉

For those unfamiliar with what used to be "Newlywed Wednesday" - in addition to graphics about their sexcapades, I completed this as if they were filling out a "Cosmo"-like survey and then comparing answers. I imagine this took place a few months into their relationship.

Tobias: (Anxiously waiting) So, how did we do? We had to get bingo at least five times...right? Casey: We got bingo exactly five times. Two across, two down, one diagonal. T: I'm not going to lie, I'm a little disappointed in us. We missed three boxes! I expected better of us, babe. C: Well, we could always try harder, I guess. T: Can we get extra credit for doing a bunch of other things that aren't mentioned on the card? C: For purposes of this quiz? No. But it's all right. It’s not like they’re going to take away our horny cards. T: I guess. But, I'm down for buying some body paints. Can we pencil that in for tomorrow? C: Sure (laughs) You could choke me for like ten seconds... then we can technically check that box too. T: Tecnically, we've already done that, so I say you check that off. C: True, and then we'd only have one more to fill the card. T: The threesome. Well, have you ever done it? C: You answer that first. T: Yes. In med school, once. Maybe twice. C: Maybe? How does one forget that? T: There was a lot of tequila involved. Now, you? C: Yes. Twice. Once in college, once in med school. T: Damn, look at you. C: Hey! You did it, too! T: I'm not mad. I'm impressed. While I wouldn't rule it out, I'm not all that sure I'm willing to share you, baby. C: It's OK. No one said we had to get the full bingo card. I still think we're pretty impressive. T: I say we revisit this in six months and see how we feel. C: (laughs) Deal.

C: You really loved that cabana in Bora Bora, didn't you? T: Are you saying you didn't? C: Oh, I did. It was far more enjoyable than on the plane on the way there. Although, that was fun, too. T: (Laughs) Is there anywhere we didn't do it on that trip? C: In the Uber. T: But we talked about it. C: We did. (Both laugh). So it kind of counts.

T: Well, look at that! I dare say we are pretty well-matched. (Exchange a high-five). C: Did you really need a Cosmo survey to tell you that? T: Oh, hell no. But I appreciate the validation. C: Jesus! There is very little you wouldn’t do. T: Uh, we both have one off limits... you're one to speak. At least I gave off that vibe. But when we met, I thought you were the good one. (Smirks) C: Define good, sir! Because I'm so much better than good!! T: Damn right you are! (They kiss)

T: You know, by the looks of this, people would think we never had normal sex. C: Define "normal" sex? T: Mmmm, good point. It's just that… we're a lot more than just two horn bags in love. C: (Laughs) Sure, but we're all this, too. Besides, the "in love" part counts for more than all the rest. T: It sure does. (He gives her a kiss). But the other stuff is fun, too. C: Oh, you better believe it is! T: Hey... do you have anything planned for the next hour? (He nuzzled her close). Because if you don't have anything to do, we could always... C: Oh, thank God! (She laughs) I thought you'd never ask... (they start ripping off each other's clothes) T: Bedroom or... C: No time for that! We dan do it right here... T: (Grins) Did I mention now much I love you. C: I love you, too. Even when you're not naked.

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@openheartfanfics

[krys-loves-otome]

4, 12, 13?;o

Writer Asks!

4. What is something about your writing style that you’re really proud of?

A lot of people have complimented me on my dialogue, so I'm gonna go with that. Just something about watching a back and forth between two people is so fun to do. Some of my favorite writing challenges was where I was restricted to only tell a story with the dialogue alone, and the dynamics you can get from that.

Some of my favorite dialogues:

"You'll do well to remember this, little mouse. While Lord Nobunaga chose his vassals and allies well, never forget that he was also a man with many enemies. Enemies that would kill to get a fraction of what he had. That includes you as well."

-Mitsuhide, A Second Glance pt 3

“It’s still so beautiful,” You said, “even after all these years.”

“On the contrary, chérie,” he said softly. “I see something much more beautiful in front of me,”

“And you’re horribly biased, good monsieur.” You laughed. “Or going blind.”

“If I go blind tonight, I’ll be glad the last thing I saw was your smiling face, in my ‘horribly biased’ opinion.”

-Fais de Beaux Rêves

"I had given you the option of spending time playing games and reveling in other frivolous things," he said, "Yet you spend most of your time as Chatelaine. You are a strange creature, Fireball."

"Outside of Mitsunari and yourself, no one seems to enjoy the same type of games I do." She explained. "Besides, a debt is still a debt. You opened your home to a complete stranger, displaced from her own world. Any other lord would have been more suspicious, if not more cautious, of a young woman appearing from the heavens."

-WIP Wednesday of Houki and Nobunaga playing Go

-------

12. Favorite ship you’ve written/the ship you write for the most?

Technically speaking, I don't write ship fic unless you count reader-inserts and OC inserts. If we count those, Mitsuhide banter is fun to write when I do him with reader-inserts (which bleeds into the way I write Nokto, since they do have a lot of similarities, it's just fun to write their teasing banter).

If we're talking about OC ships, then that goes to Mitsunari and Houki, whom are the most recent I've written about the most (two published fics and a wip wednesday, the two of them walking home together when I wrote her interacting with Ieyasu in a different fic, some stuff that I haven't posted yet, etc.)

13. Already answered here!

[maysbanks]

hold out. (jj maybank)

here it is, the second part to hypersonic missiles ! the response to the first part was absolutely amazing, the support & love in this fandom is incredible & i just wanna say a huge thank you to all of you that take the time to like, reblog & comment, every single one means so much !! gotta admit im not loving this as in it's not my best work and kinda all over the place & half way through writing this i almost scrapped the whole thing to rewrite the full series with an oc bc writing as the reader was starting to get to me lol. but alas here it is & as always i hope u enjoy x

warning: swearing, drug use, underage drinking, violence etc 

summary: after accidentally inserting herself into a treasure hunt with four teenagers, one of which could be considered her 'friend with benefits', y/n grubbs is left to deal with the complications and misfortunes that come along with it - including her ever-growing feelings for said 'friend with benefits'. 

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

If someone had told you a week before that you would lose your father, get your house raided by two men you had never seen before in your life, make friends with a group of teenagers, embark on a two hundred year old treasure hunt with said teenagers, and be hanging out with JJ Maybank every day and willingly, all in the space of one week; you'd have laughed in their face, asked them what drugs they were on and could you have some, and then laugh in their face again.

But alas, there you were. You still couldn't quite believe it, especially the JJ part. You'd had worries at first, like would the gang really want you involved, did they secretly hate having you around, were they just being nice and letting you in on this because your dad had died? All the doubts swirled in your mind, running around like clock-work, just ticking away constantly in the back of your head. Surprisingly, JJ had been the one you'd gone to about them.

"I just feel guilty," you'd said. It was after a day of riding around in John B's boat and using fancy hotels' WiFi, and 'borrowing' a drone from JJ's dads old workplace. His eyebrows furrowed when he looked at you, confused. "I mean, you guys have been friends for like, forever. And then I just show up and you conveniently find out about John B's dad and the treasure hunt on the same day when I'm there, and it's just like - I don't belong with you guys, it's your thing and I'm just kinda, here." 

"You're part of this just as much as we all are," he'd told you, matter of fact. His body was angled to face you as you sat outside John B's self-proclaimed Chateau, a freshly rolled blunt being passed back and forth between the pair of you. "You need to stop doubting yourself, man. You're apart of us now." 

The words had warmed your heart, an instant smile being spread on your lips as you looked at him through red-rimmed eyes. Underneath the setting sun, he looked almost angelic; his golden hair blowing in the slight breeze, tanned skin exposed due to the heat. You had pretended not to notice the tense of the muscles in his arms whenever your fingers brushed when you passed the juul between yourselves. 

"You're too kind to me, Maybank," you'd grinned, boot-clad foot nudging his knee gently. "If I didn't know you so well I'd have thought you'd have ulterior motives."

"Who says I haven't?" He'd smirked back. You'd just smiled, teeth biting down on the plump skin of your bottom lip before you'd looked away from his burning gaze and focused your attention on anything, anywhere but JJ fucking Maybank.

You got along with the gang amazingly, you couldn't doubt that. Pope was the smartest guy you'd met, sweet and funny and passionate and so certain of what he wanted to do in life. Kiara, or Kie, as you'd come to call her, was very environmentally involved, almost too cool for the guys, you thought. She cared so much about so many things, and she had a great taste in music too. John B was a bit like you, you supposed. Fatherless, on the hunt for answers, things like that - but other than that he was a great guy, the makeshift leader of the little group, a little lost in life, but that was to be understood.

And then there was JJ. You felt most comfortable around the blonde, but that was kinda a given too, due to the fact you'd seen each other in your most vulnerable states that came with having sex rather regularly, something the other members of the gang didn't share. He was a spit-fire, always ready to throw a punch and fire threats at those who deserved it, head-strong and stubborn. But he was more so caring, God he cared so much for his friends, you'd discovered. He would do just about anything for them, whatever position that put him in. JJ put the gang before himself, always. You'd noticed all different types of things about JJ especially, little things you had never taken the time to notice before.

These little discoveries probably came from watching him too much, you'd thought one night. It was a bit of a problem, though you never mentioned it. The unspoken rule amongst the group was No Pogue on Pogue Macking, which basically meant everyone was off limits to each other. You understood the rule, Kie having been the only girl before you'd arrived on the scene amongst three guys, and after becoming apart of the gang you had no choice but to respect it - which also meant that JJ was off limits. But was he technically off limits when you'd already been there, so far past the line on macking with each other?

There was some sort of agreement between the two of you, that in order to make this work; your friendship with the Pogues, the hunt for the Merchant's treasure, that nothing could happen. You'd spoken briefly about it that first day, outside the lighthouse beside the Twinkie (John B's van, you'd learned had a nickname), we're cool, right? Pretend we haven't seen each other naked, conversation. It had been cut short, but it still happened. And the pair of you never mentioned it after that, a few off-handed comments here and there from JJ, but nothing specific. So you assumed yours and JJ's hook ups were off the table, and you had no idea why that had come to bother you so damn much.

On the day following your talk with JJ on John B's porch, he'd invited you to come along with him and Pope as they delivered groceries for Pope's dad, Heyward. You had almost said no, because really, you could probably do with a break from the Maybank boy, all the time spent with him was doing no favours for your little situation of Fighting Attraction While Hunting For Gold. That's what you were putting it down to in your mind anyway, too much time spent with the person you're sleeping with can begin to mess with anyone's head, and hey, maybe it was the fact that you were grieving and JJ was familiar - but you couldn't be doing with all these thoughts anymore.

Despite the angel on your shoulder urging you to turn his offer down, you'd said yes. But that was little to do with JJ and more to do with your mom and your current home situation, which was unbearable, to say the least. Your mother was barely speaking to you, as if she was scared of letting something slip if she did. In return, you shut her out, too. Told her lame excuses and empty lies when you were heading out with the gang, lying through your teeth when she'd asked where you were or where you were going.

Lana Grubbs wasn't a stupid woman, though, and you knew she knew you were up to something. But she hadn't mentioned anything outright yet, and so you hadn't said anything either. The hole your father had left was huge and gaping, evident in both your lives. You hadn't spoken about it yet, and you weren't intending to until she could be completely honest with you. You didn't want to hear anymore lies, and you were already on the path to discovering the full truth. On your own.

Her words echoed in your mind every time you left the house, voice small and gentle as she never failed to say the same thing. "Just be careful." You'd always look over your shoulder, and she'd never look back at you. She hadn't looked at you much at all since your dad had died.

It was after a certain drop-off of groceries, you'd joined JJ in his delivery whilst Pope had docked the boat and gone off to deliver his own, yours and JJ's strides matching as you walked the seemingly never-ending drive of the abnormally large house that loomed over you. The Kook part of the island never ceased to intimidate you, no matter how much you didn't want it to. There was something about it, the people that lived amongst it, that unsettled you whenever you entered it. Figure Eight wasn't somewhere you usually visited other than an odd job you'd picked up, and you were reminded why of that fact as you walked alongside JJ.

"Just think," he breathed, all starry eyed and parted lips as he gazed around the pair of you. "This could all be ours soon."

You snorted, bumping his side with your own. "Don't be melodramatic, JJ,"

"I'm serious!" JJ protested. His sea blue eyes caught yours when he turned his head to look at you head-on. The intensity of his stare almost made you stop in your spot, but you managed to carry on, gulping when his eyes continued to hold yours. "I'm sticking to my earlier statement, right, we're going to move here, and out-rich all these fuckin' Kooks."

"Out-rich?" You raised an eyebrow, lips quirking. "Your grammar is so adequate, Maybank."

"It's a word," JJ insisted, nudging your side with the point of his elbow. "Who the fuck uses words like adequate these days, anyway? I don't even think Mrs. Humphrey knows what that word means."

You laughed at the mention of your shared English teacher, the grey-haired, short, spectacle wearing woman immediately entering your mind. JJ grinned when he heard your laugh, dimples winking in his cheeks.

"Mrs. Humphrey can't even spell Wednesday," you giggled, JJ chuckling along with you as he nodded. "It's a wonder how that woman has been working there for like, eighteen years or something."

Your steps faltered as you neared the door to the house, pace slowing as you both basked in the time spent with each other, though neither of you would admit it. "She was probably a good teacher at first," JJ said thoughtfully, shuffling the groceries in his hands. (You tried not to notice the way his arms looked when he did that, muscles clenching and on full show with his cut-off tank.) "I bet each year another brain cell of hers just like, dies."

"Wouldn't surprise me," you nodded. "Mine would attempting to teach classes full of teenagers," rather dramatically, you shuddered. "Especially if one of those teenagers was JJ Maybank."

"Hey!" JJ shouted, though his grin proved that he found your jab amusing. You laughed along with him, bumping his side once more as you finally landed at the door, watching as he turned to you, expression trying to be serious and failing, rather horribly. "You better watch yourself, Grubbs. I'm serious here, I can be a pretty scary guy if need be, y'know."

You didn't doubt that, of course. You'd seen JJ in action with your own two eyes, you knew what he was capable of. But somehow, stood with you there, on the doorstep of some filthy rich Kook's mansion, groceries in hand, blonde hair shining golden in the sun, sun-kissed skin exposed to your wandering eyes, grin on pink lips; you couldn't imagine JJ Maybank hurting a fly.

"Trust me, I know." You'd said just as he knocked on the door, shooting you one last toothy grin before the door was opened and he was pulled into a conversation with the woman who'd answered it, talking about all things from the weather to the next semester at school. You watched him all the while, smile growing on your lips without your knowledge as you took him in, seemingly in his element as he sweet-talked the middle-aged woman inside the house. When he turned to you suddenly, you startled, broken from your thoughts and caught red-handed staring at him like some freak. He grinned, tongue wetting his pink lips at the same time you internally groaned.

"I was just saying, the groceries," he trailed off as he pointed to the bags in your hands in which you'd forgotten were even there. You let out an 'oh' as you quickly passed the groceries over to the waiting woman, shooting her an apologetic smile as she looked at you knowingly. JJ nodded his head in your direction, speaking once more to the woman, "New guys, huh?"

You glared at him as the woman laughed, perfectly manicured hand reaching beside her and grabbing hold of her purse, pulling a note out with her slender fingers. She held the note out to JJ, who immediately tried to turn it down, insisting there was no need, but the woman was unrelenting - sending a pointed look your way as she told him, "For your troubles, sweetie."

JJ picked the note from her hands, a gracious smile being sent to her as he nodded. "It's been a long day," he sighed heavily and your jaw almost dropped as you resisted the urge to reach out and slap his arm. What a fucker. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Ramirez. I really appreciate it."

The woman, Mrs. Ramirez, as you learned, nodded and waved a hand. "No bother, sweetie," she told him before turning her eyes back to you. You forced a smile as she simply eyed you up and down, before sending an obviously forced one of her own. "And thank you." She said curtly, and you were ready to give her a piece of your mind before JJ was grabbing your arm and dragging you in the direction of where you'd come from, shouting one last thank you over his shoulder as he walked you back towards the boat.

It was when you were a safe distance away that you shook your arm from his hold only to slap him gently on his own as you glowered, glare smouldering as he laughed, throwing his head back as he stumbled beside you.

"You're such an ass," you huffed as you tried to ignore his chuckling, speeding your steps. "I mean, she literally just tipped you a hundred dollars for showing up and smiling, I'm sure if I had a third leg down there I would have got the same treatment too."

"Are you jealous?" JJ asked, having to jog slightly to keep up your hurried pace. His smile was huge and infectious, and you made a point not to meet his stare when he landed next to you in fear of breaking your fake annoyed stance. "Maybe if you weren't too busy checking me out then you could have talked to her, and y'know, make a small fortune yourself."

You scoffed, whirling around and halting him in place. He almost stumbled into you, and you stepped back when his hands landed on your arms to steady himself, shaking his grip off almost immediately. "I wasn't checking you out," you told him, matter of fact.

JJ grinned and ran a hand through his hair as he replied, "Sure you were," he shrugged. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared, biting down on your tongue as you resisted your own smile as he motioned to his body from head to toe. "Not that I can blame you, I mean look at me."

"I've looked, JJ," your voice was low when you said it, a knowing tone to your words. "I've looked, and I've seen it all, in case you forgot."

A low chuckle slipped past his lips. "How could I ever forget?" He asked rhetorically, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as you tried not to follow the action with your eyes, and failed, miserably. "Trust me, that image is forever dented in my brain. I think of it, sometimes. Just randomly."

You rolled your eyes. And he's back, _you thought. _He never left, a voice at the back of your head piped up. You ignored them both. "C'mon," you said, already turning on your heel and starting off in the direction of where Pope had docked the boat. "Let's go get these deliveries finished."

The pair of you said nothing more for the rest of the duration of the short walk back, and when the boat was in your sights JJ was off running, more than likely eager to show off his one hundred dollar tip to Pope, as you idled, watching his back as he ran. When you finally landed in the boat, it was silent. You immediately picked up on the tension, heavy in the small space, and shot JJ a confused glance when he looked back at you.

Slowly, you made your way towards where the two boys were up at the front of the boat, Pope situated at the wheel. The dark skinned boy was staring straight ahead, refusing to meet either yours or JJ's eyes. When you looked to the latter, he subtly shrugged a shoulder, letting you know that he had no clue himself what was going on with his best friend.

"Pope?" You questioned softly. "What's wrong?" When there was no answer, you shared another glance with JJ, his concern shining in his blue eyes. You tilted your head as you went to ask him again, but when you did, your eyes caught on to the colour crimson that was slowly streaming down the side of his face. You gasped and JJ startled, chest bumping your shoulder as he tugged the cap from Pope's head, revealing the injury near the top of his head.

"Jesus!" JJ exclaimed when he caught sight of the wound, Pope swatting at his hands that held his hat, pulling it back down once JJ had let go. "What happened?"

"Rafe and Topper jumped me," Pope's voice was slightly wobbly as he informed you both, a tear sliding down his cheek as he recounted, "They said no Pogues on their side of the island."

Your blood began to boil just as JJ demanded, "What are you gonna do?" His own jaw clenched in anger as he looked at his best friend, beaten and bruised in front of him from the hands of some entitled selfish pricks that thought they were better than everyone because they had more money in their pockets. Rafe Cameron was a name that never failed to make you queasy at just the mention of it, and his little gang of followers including Topper Thorton were just as unbearable.

"I have something in mind." Pope spoke, voice and stance determined. And something he did, as he drove to Topper's new boat - and promptly swam over and removed the plug from it, causing the new model to sink into the water as you and JJ watched from Heyward's boat, keeping an eye out for anyone that may have spotted your trio.

And though it was bad, and you knew you probably shouldn't have taken part in such an activity, nor prompted Pope to either; you couldn't deny the rush it gave you as you watched Topper Thorton's boat begin to sink, and maybe it was the fact that you knew that Topper was a Grade A Asshole and deserved it, or maybe it was Pope's own unsure but excitable adrenaline that mixed with your own, or maybe it was just the fact that JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulder without a care in the world as he shouted his support to his friend, squeezing you to his side almost unknowingly, like it was some kind of instinct.

You thought, yeah, it probably was, as you immediately felt the loss of it when he moved to grab Pope in a hug. And then you thought, well shit.

There was a mutual share of disappointment when the gang had found just about absolutely nothing when you'd taken Pope's fathers boat out the next morning, drone ready and in hand to go hunt for the gold, where John B Routledge had marked down on the map it having been.

Granted, the Royal Merchant was there. It was just missing the one thing they were after - the gold was nowhere in sight, and the journey had been a complete waste of time. You thought it to be too good to be true, of course it had to be. Four hundred million in gold and you were expected to find it? There was no way, you thought bitterly as JJ steered the gang back to land, not one of you daring to speak as the disappointment crashed over you all in huge waves.

You'd departed with the guys not long after that, after promising Kie that you would accompany her to the annual summer movie night, making your way towards home. The bitter frustration ate away at your insides, you were mad, angry - fucking infuriated, each step the gang got closer to finding the gold, it was as if someone was stood in your path and shoving you all back another ten.

Had your dad really died for this? This seemingly never-ending hunt for promised gold that, for all you knew, could be complete and utter bullshit. You didn't understand it at first, when the pieces began to slot together, but it was like every time the chase got harder it made you want it even more; and then you understood your fathers fascination and Big John Routledge's obsession. This gold meant everything to you and the gang, and you knew, John B especially, would never give up on this chase.

"Hey, sweetheart," your mother called when you entered the house. The front door was still broken, only the screen in place, and was leaning against the wall as you maneuvered past it. Lana was sat at the couch, and when you walked in she'd shoved a box away from her, the lid laying haphazardly over the top. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."

You shot her a small and forced smile, shuffling your bag from your shoulder and onto the floor, landing with a soft thud. "Hey mom," you greeted back, noting her teary eyes and flushed cheeks. "What're you doing?"

When you arrived at the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder, you immediately recognised the box - Family Photos! _written atop _the cardboard.

"I was just looking through some old pictures," she told you, sniffling as she attempted to smile at you. "Just wanted to see his face again."

You nodded, your throat tightening at the mention of your dad. Reaching a hand up and wiping away her tears, she looked at you questioning, "Where have you been?"

"Just out," you said, bluntly and unconvincing. "Doing a few jobs here and there, y'know. Nothing exciting."

Lana hummed, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Mr. Phelps told me that he seen you with that Maybank kid the other day," she informed, your face falling for a millisecond as her words sunk in. She looked at you, tear-stained face and serious gaze, lips pulled to a thin line. "I told you to stay from those guys, Y/N."

"I was helping him deliver groceries, mom," you deadpanned - which wasn't exactly a lie, if that's when Mr. Phelps had spotted you. Most of your time spent with the gang was mainly off the land and away from prying eyes, whether that be on a boat or the Chateau, so you knew that was the safest bet of when you'd been spotted. "For Heyward's. It's not like I'm hanging out with him on purpose."

Lie, lie, lie. It was becoming alarmingly easy to lie straight through your teeth, and to your mother nonetheless, but you couldn't dare tell her anything, and why should you, when she hadn't told you anything? It took two to Tango, you thought.

"I just don't want you getting hurt," your mother reminded, and you let out a sigh as you nodded, faked closed-mouth smile on your lips. "I'm serious, Y/N, please just be careful out there."

"Always am," you promised (bull-fucking-shit). You turned on your heel, heading towards your room as you called over your shoulder, "I got invited out tonight, by the way. To the movie thing on the North Side. Is it alright if I go, please?"

You waited at your door, hearing your mother sigh from the couch. "Yes, you can go." You smiled, this one more real than all the rest, and thanked her gently. She didn't look back at you though, and the familiar unspoken tension was back with vengeance. You couldn't wait to get out of it.

The movie night was a welcome distraction from your frustrations with the treasure hunt, the haunting memories of your dad, and the tension with your mom. It was only you, Kie, Pope and JJ that attended - John B having seemingly disappeared for the day, none of the gang having heard from him. You'd managed to leave the house with relatively no questioning from your mom, and met JJ a little way down the block.

("Woah, keep two feet away from me please," you'd joked, halting in your tracks as you spotted him standing there. He'd furrowed his brows at you, frown etched on his face. "My cover's been blown, everyone knows about us!

He just looked even more confused, eyes squinting down at you as you raised a hand and layed it across your forehead dramatically. "What'd you mean?" He questioned, eyes darting around, seemingly searching for answers in the air around you both. "What, do people know we sleep together or something?"

You'd rolled your eyes, shoving him gently when you were close enough, beginning to walk away. "No, you doof," you chuckled. "Mr. Phelps ratted me out to my mom, told her that he saw us together the other day. I had to tell her that we were just delivering groceries for Pope's dad."

"Ah," JJ nodded, shooting you a mischievous grin. "We better go into hiding then, I'm thinking... log cabin in the mountains, all fur sheets and deer heads on the walls, ooh a hot tub too."

You laughed, "Trying to whisk me away there, Maybank?"

You were joking, but his eyes were surprisingly serious as he looked at you. "Always, Grubbs.")

The field was already packed full of people by the time the four of you arrived, groups of people scattered around, idle chatter filling the air. It was being held on the Kook side of the island, and your eyes swooped over the people, most of them being Kook's themselves, expensive clothing and an aura that just screamed, I'm better than you. It made you feel uneasy, but you tried not to think about it as Kiara led you through the crowds.

"I'm so glad they're still doing this," she tells you all, sighing happily. The faces of the guys revealed they were not nearly as happy to be there as she was, while you were simply just glad to be out of your house once again. "Keep calm, carry on. Back to normal, OBX life, y'know?" She stopped once she found a decent spot, turning to the three of you. "Aren't you guys glad I made you come?"

"Ecstatic." Pope deadpanned, sarcastic lull to his tone.

"My couch was pretty comfy." JJ piped up.

"I'm just happy to be out the house, I guess." You said.

You were aware why the guys were so uncertain about being there; it wasn't so long ago that Pope was sinking Topper Thorton's boat, you and JJ accompanying, and now you were all on his side of the island. Not only that, but you knew that if Topper was to discover that it was Pope who'd done his boat in, it wouldn't just be Topper that confronted him - it would be the full Happy Days Gang. Nothing was ever a fair game when it came to Kooks.

Kiara excused herself to go buy soda's from the conession stand, and you shifted as you seated yourself on the blanket you'd bought, having opted out of bringing a chair. You sat in front of JJ, his legs touching your back.

"What's wrong with you guys?" You turned your head when Pope and JJ began to whisper, the former's panicked eyes landing on you as you frowned at the pair.

"Topper and Rafe are on my ass," Pope revealed. "They know I sunk Topper's boat."

You sighed heavily, muttering a shit as JJ grabbed his friend by the arm, focusing his attention towards him. "They can't prove it, okay. Just deny, deny, deny."

Pope nodded along, muttering along with him as you watched the pair, before your eyes moved to Kie that arrived back, her eyes narrowing as she seated herself beside Pope. "Just saw Rafe," she informed, your blood running cold. You could practically feel JJ tense from behind you. "He said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy we know what he did'. What is that?"

"Um, where is he?" JJ questioned, his tone of voice revealing his hidden anxiety.

"Right there." Kiara nodded her head, right in the direction of where Rafe Cameron and his goons sat, as you, Pope and JJ whipped around, Pope practically turning his full body in their direction. You groaned as JJ desperately urged him to turn back round, and away from their taunting eyes.

"The whole death squad!" Pope exclaimed, anxiety riding off of him in waves.

"Don't stare, bro," JJ urged, hand wrapping around Pope's shoulders. You tuned out the rest of the blonde's words as he informed you all that he'd be coming out swinging if they were to corner him, and you felt dread build as you heard his last words. "If that doesn't work, I got this right here." He patted his bag.

"JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here," Kie practically begged. "JJ, there are kids!"

You focused your attention straight ahead of you as the guys continued to argue; Pope simply telling Kie that it might go down to her line of questioning, her brown eyes darting back and forth between you all. You refused to meet her eyes, however, and were glad when the large screen ahead of you suddenly lit up. "Oh, look," you exclaimed, laughing nervously. "The movie's starting."

And it was left at that - JJ whispering deny, deny, deny to Pope once more before you all turned your attention to the screen, trying to block out the intruding thoughts of having the knowledge that the gang of Kooks were staring you down, awaiting your next move like a predator would its pray.

All was going fine - the movie was good, everyone's attention on the black and white screen. You tried not to think about Rafe and Topper, or the gold or your dad, and definitely not the feel of JJ's legs either side of you, trapping you into his hold. You let yourself believe that everything would be okay, and then Pope had revealed he needed a piss, and everything had gone to shit.

JJ had accompanied him, and the two had set off behind the screen, hidden away from Rafe's watchful eyes. They hadn't done a good enough job to be discreet though, and you immediately took notice of Rafe, Topper and Kelce making their way towards the opposite side of the screen. You swore, catching Kie's attention as she questioned, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Looks like that piss break just got a lot more complicated," you said, and realisation dawned on her face. It didn't take the pair of you long to locate the guys, all in various forms of fighting, as you and Kie screamed at them to stop. You grabbed Rafe's arm mid-swing, his fist raised and ready to send a hit to JJ's face from where Kelce had hold of him. "Stop it, you dick!"

You let out a scream as you were sent flying back from his shove, Rafe's blue eyes wild and crazed as he glared down at you. "Stay out of this, Grubbs!" He barked, and without a moments hesitation sent a fist hurling towards JJ's cheek.

Kiara had jumped on Topper's back from the small distance away from you, and you took a moment to ready yourself before hurtling towards Rafe from your crouched position, tackling him to the ground from his knees, effectively stopping his blows. He seemed stunned for a second, staring dazed up at you before he promptly threw you off of him, shoving you to the ground without a care. "Don't fucking touch me," he growled down at you, and you groaned slightly as the wind was knocked from you.

You heard JJ from somewhere above you, shouting insults at Rafe and repeating your name over and over. You lifted yourself from the ground just as Topper puts Pope in a headlock, his tight grip causing the dark skinned boys breath to leave him in choked gasps. You shoved at Rafe's back once more, sending him stumbling forward before he whipped around, hand reaching out and grabbing you by the face, tugging you so you stood nose-to-nose with him.

"I said," he ground out darkly, eyes boring into yours. "Don't fucking touch me."

You were beginning to fear what would come next before a sudden glow caught your eye from the side, the movie screen lighting up in harsh flames. Rafe dropped you, your hands moving to rub over the imprint he'd left, as you looked towards where Kie stood, JJ lighter in hand. Screams of terror echoed from the other side, as people began to flee, and it didn't take long for the three Kooks on your side to follow, sprinting quickly from the scene. Fucking cowards, you thought.

JJ's hands were on you before you could even blink, eyes earnest and worried as they looked over you, your cheeks red from the earlier grip Rafe had on you. "You good?" He asked you, slightly out of breath. You nodded, repeating the question to him. He smiled lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

The night had ended promptly there, Kie dropping you off at your respected houses. You'd bid them all a good night, and as quietly as possible made your way into your home, not wanting your mother to see the marks imprinted on your face from Rafe's fingers. Luckily, she'd already been in bed, and it didn't take long for you to crawl into yours, thoughts of the day and a certain blonde running through your mind.

The next morning you'd met the gang (save for John B, who was still seemingly missing) at the Heyward's store; your morning had been spent desperately trying to hide the red marks that Rafe's fingers had left from your mom before she could notice and ground you in your room for the rest of your life. It had a been a success for the most part, and she asked no questions as you left the house, though you took note of her uncertain expression as you bid your goodbyes.

"Have you heard from John B?" You asked Kiara who was working closest to you. You had realised the brunette boy was missing from the group upon your arrival, and you couldn't help the worries in your mind at where he could be or what could have happened to him.

"No, nothing. Have you?" She returned the question, brown eyes meeting yours as you shook your head no, a short sigh falling from her lips. "Neither have the guys. What're you thinking?" Kiara eyed you, gaze suddenly sullen. "Do you think something's happened?"

"I don't know, Kie," you told her because honestly, you didn't. John B had a target on his back, that much was for sure. Son of Big John, once owner of the proclaimed death compass. Your mind thought back to the two men that had raised your home, and chased the guys on more than one occasion, and you couldn't help but think the worst. "I'm sure he's fine, though."

Kiara nodded, though she looked anything but sure. "Yeah, you're probably right." The pair of you continued on with your respected work, JJ's and Pope's voice trailing from somewhere in the store as they talked. "You're working Midsummers, right?"

You groaned, nodding. Kiara laughed at your sour expression. "Oh yeah, second year running. To be honest, I'm surprised they let me work it after last year, my customer service must be better than my right hand hook," you joked, chuckle escaping your lips as you thought back to the Midsummer's party the year before. Your dad had gotten you the gig, because he was a weasel like that - always talking people into getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was the gas bill to be paid, and his face just didn't fit the portfolio to be serving Kook's their drinks at their fancy party, and so it had left left to you to do just that.

The night had ended with Dean Kipp on his ass after his hand had fallen on your ass, and you'd been let off with a warning as the guy clutched his bloody nose and called you everything ranging from psycho bitch to slutty pogue. Your surprise was immense when you were offered a job again this year, and a large amount of the reason you'd said yes was just so you could see the look on his face when he saw you.

"He totally deserved that," Kiara remarked, grinning. You smiled back, the pair of you sharing a laugh as you returned to your work.

For a second, you let your worries wash away as you were pulled into a conversation with the gang, your spirts high for the first time in a while. You were happy, you realised. What had started off as being the worst period of your life was slowly turning into the best, the gang and treasure hunt a blessing in disguise. The four of you shared laughs and joked back and forth as you worked, and you found yourself to be perfectly content.

All that came crashing down when Pope's father entered the shop, police officer trailing behind him. "Hey, Pope! There's someone here to see you."

You stopped dead-on, the rest of the gang halting in their movements as you all stared towards the officer you recognised as Shoupe. "Evening, officer." Pope greeted, gulping.

"I have an arrear warrant for felony destruction of property," Deputy Shoupe approached your group, handing the said warrant to Pope's dad. From beside you, JJ tensed, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes glanced down at you, freshly beaten face pulled into an anxious grimace as his jaw clenched. Shoupe had gotten remarkably closer, hands reaching for the handcuffs placed on his belt. "Hands where I can see 'em."

Pope glanced desperately towards JJ, who shook his head quickly, his words, though unspoken, clear as day. Deny, deny, deny. But denying wasn't going to get Pope out of handcuffs, you decided as you stepped forward, tone pleading as you demanded, "Stop, you can't just do this!"

"Out of my way please, Miss Grubbs," Shoupe dismissed you, sounding almost bored as he shoved past you, beginning to handcuff Pope who can do nothing but allow it to happen, his anxious eyes focusing on one spot as reality began to sink in.

"What did he do, Shoupe?" Mr. Heyward questioned in disbelief, watching as his son was getting arrested in front of his very eyes.

"Take a look at the warrant," the cop said simply as he begun to tug Pope out of the store.

It was chaos. Everyone was shouting, demanding answers and hurling insults. JJ is screaming something about somebody paying him, Kiara is in your ear asking what the hell was going on, Mr. Heyward is hurtling questions towards both his son and Shoupe. Passbyers stared at the scene, whispering to each other as they walked by or stopped to watch. Everything blurred together, and you could do nothing but watch the scene unfold in front of you.

Those fucking assholes, you thought. Topper Thorton came to mind, tan skin and bleached ends, million dollar smile and designer clothes. You remembered his wild gaze as he held Pope in a headlock the night before, close to almost killing him. And yet he was off somewhere doing god knows what, probably shopping for a new boat to replace the one he'd lost, not that he probably cared all that much about it in the first place. Rafe Cameron's eyes entered your mind next, and you felt a shudder run through you as you remembered them boring into yours as he held your face frighteningly tight and close to his own.

JJ's voice was suddenly breaking through your stream of thoughts - "It wasn't him!" He was calling out, eyes directed on Shoupe who paused and turned toward him, Pope's face disbelieving from behind him. "It was me."

It sunk in then what JJ was trying to do, and you whirled around from his left, quickly shaking your head as you muttered, "JJ." He ignored you however, and stepped forward towards where the officer was standing, Pope still in his arms.

"He tried to talk me out of it," JJ continued. "But I was mad because he had just been beaten up, I was sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit." He was stood directly in front of Shoupe, almost boot-to-boot. You couldn't see his face from where you were, and you were almost thankful for the fact as you heard him direct his words to Pope, "I can't let you take the fall for what I did. You've got too much to lose."

"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope demanded. His face was confused, just as much in shock as the rest of you. For a second, his eyes leave JJ's and land on yours, a shaky breath leaving your lips as his eyes were practically pleading.

"I'm telling the truth, for once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth," JJ announced loudly. "I took his old man's boat, too."

"What the hell?" Mr. Heyward questioned, though nobody paid him any mind. Your gaze was too focused on the unfolding scene of JJ Maybank taking the fall for something he most definitely do, and you could do nothing but watch it happen.

Your heart finally shattered when JJ's last words entered your ears, "He's a good kid. You know where I'm from."

He only looked back once as he was put into the handcuffs that previously held Pope, and that wasn't until he was shoved in the back of the police car and the door was slammed behind him. You walked closer towards it, hand on Pope's back as he watched his best friend get arrested for something he'd done, and you both knew it. When JJ glanced up and out of the window, bruised face clear behind the glass, his sea blue eyes caught yours and then he smiled.

The fucker.

You could only watch helplessly as the police car was driven away and out of sight, Pope throwing his cap down in a fit of anger as he stormed off, his dad calling after him, Kie landing to your right. The dark haired girl wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you to her side gently.

"JJ'll be alright," she told you, voice confident though her face read anything but as she glanced in the direction the car had been driven off. "He always is."

But what, a voice in the back in your head nagged at you, if this time he wasn't?

And then it dawned on you: you actually really, generally, sincerely and whole-heartedly cared about JJ Maybank.

(And the thought scared you more than you would ever like to admit.)

& to the lovely people that asked to be tagged in this, love you all x @ponyboys-sunsets @mysticsthinking @danicarosaline

[chalkxtabletxtowers]

~A beach day full of feelings~

•Fandom: Ducktales, kinda? I based this fanfiction mostly off of the Italian comics, or "Lustige Taschenbücher" in Germany because the chemistry between the two is ströng there.

•Pairing: Donro, Donald x Gyro

•Warnings/Notes: Trans!Gyro is hinted, otherwise, this is just cute and wholesome. I originally wanted to upload it on valentines day, but I spent the day with my girlfriend and forgot about it, so here you have it now.

Everyone around them seemed to get the hints. Everyone around them seemed to understand what kind of relationship it was between them, better, than the two of them did. They were painfully oblivious, so much so, that they brushed the suspections of the people surrounding them off, even though they weren't unaware of them. But they both knew, or thought to know, that just because they were good friends, and because of that spend more time together, that that didn't mean something was going on between them.

Donald spent the days in the laboratory more often, these days. To upgrade his suit, that had been damaged pretty badly in the last incident with Magica. Even though he only understood half of was the scientist was explaining to him, it was still interesting to see old and new weapons, that were supposed to help him in the fight during crime.

On the inside, he knew that he liked spending the time in the laboratory. Being surrounded by someone. With the scientist in the room, he never had to fear that the silence took over. Silence, that he experienced everyday once the kids were out of the house. Since he never kept a job for more than three days, he didn't have any distraction. Without the three bringing life into the house, it was strangely empty, silent and big.

He had no real entertainment, besides reality TV, but that had changed ever since he spent the days in the laboratory. But he knew, that these days would be numbered pretty soon, after all, Gyro wouldn't have to fix his suit much longer, it was in pretty good condition again and the new weapons and inventions were all added, as much as that was possible.

But Donald didn't want these days to be numbered, which he, of course, couldn't tell Gyro. They were friends, and they did tend to spend some time on the weekend but... That would've been just weird, especially because Donald wasn't an apprentice, and probably wouldn't have been a very good one at that.

"There we go." the voice of the chicken interrupted his thoughts and the duck jumped "It's all fixed and ready for crime fighting again. I bet you were missed on the streets while having your forced break. But these days are over."

Donald was glad, that his suit was repaired again. He was glad, that he could do something against crime again. But on the other side, he was quietly crying. He decided to do something about it "The kids and I wanted to go to the beach on the weekend. And as a thankful gesture-" Since he obviously didn't have the money to pay the scientist "You could join us?"

The inventor seemed surprised. Not, that this was the first weekend he spend with the duck, but usually it was pretty spontaneous. Donald had never flat out asked like this, especially not in the middle of the week. "I.."

Gyro look around over his stuff, and his tables, and sighted "Think I could use a break"

When Donald returned home, the kids were already home too. He could tell by the mess in the hallway and the tossed aside schoolbags. He knew that homework hadn't been touched yet by either of them, but was too relaxed to care. He was in a good mood, but didn't really want to realise why. He just told himself it was because he could finally protect the city, and therefore the people that meant something to him, again. That was the reason, surely.

Donald decided to make pancakes for dinner, and when the kids came down the stairs because they had smelled them, they noticed that something was definitely up with their uncle "Why are you so relaxed?" "Yeah, why aren't you mad at us for not doing our homework yet?" "Did something exciting happen? Did you win the lottery? Are we rich?" "Are we rich?" "Are we?"

Donald chuckled. He wished. Well, technically, the family was rich, but he would've never gotten a single coin from his uncle, at least not until he eventually passed away. "We're not rich." He said as he sat down "I just..." He shrugged "Had a good day. Oh, and, we won't be going to the beach alone."

The three were, on their own, very well aware that their uncle had a crush. It wasn't something he could hide very well. The signs were too obvious. And they were also aware that this crush was centered towards a certain inventing chicken. But Donald, admitting that? Wouldn't happen. "Will Gyro be joining us?" Louie asked, his brothers chuckling in the background. God, it was so obvious "Yes. And that's nothing to make fun of! We're good friends and I'm being nice to him as a reward for all the good things he has done for us in the past! Including inventing stuff that wasn't only useful for me."

He looked at the three, and they knew what he was talking about. Their video game, that they could scan themselves into. Yeah, that was indeed a rad thing.

The rest of the evening wasn't so quiet, the three just couldn't stop teasing their uncle, no matter how often he kept denying a crush.

Gyro, on the other hand, wasn't much better. Not, that he wasn't well aware of the fact that he was a gay chicken.

No, he was just nervous of the thought of sharing a beach day with Donald, even though spending the weekends with the duck wasn't unusual. Sometimes, Donald would just come over for new inventions or to get something on his suit fixed, and afterwards they'd go to a café or watch a movie. Nothing unusual, just things that friends did.

And since they were friends, he was confused about his sudden nervousness. Why was a day at the beach something that suddenly scared him? After all these years, feathers had obviously grown over the scars on his chest, and he felt confident with being a male chicken.

In any way, the nervousness caused him to loose his concentration and he sighted in frustration. He wouldn't get anything done anymore, he had to take a break and clear his thoughts.

But eventually, the dreaded saturday did arrive, and there was nothing they both could do about it.

And even though they both were beyond nervous, they were also excited to spent the day with the person that meant something to them, even though they both weren't aware yet, what exactly that certain something was.

"Have we got everything?"

Donald asked, afraid that 313 would explode at any minute, judging by how full the poor car was. A single pool float was laying around, and he had almost tripped over it, and the sunscreen seemed to glue his feathers together, but he didn't care. Today was a good day, and he wouldn't let it get ruined by his reappearing bad luck.

"We think so!"

The triplets shouted back as they pressed themselves on the backseat of the car. After Donald had made sure they were strapped into their seats, like the good uncle he was, he started driving towards the beach.

"So, will you tell him today?"

Huey suddenly asked, the biggest grin plastered across his beak.

"Will I tell who what today?"

Donald asked, although he knew what they were talking about. And he could've sworn he got red under his cheek feathers.

"Will you tell Gyro today-"

Dewey continued "That he's the love of your life?"

Louie ended the sentence.

They didn't care if their uncle was in a gay relationship, as long as he was happy. And Gyro had visited them so often, that by now, they kinda viewed him as a uncle themselves. They just wanted them to finally realise their feelings, and be officially in a relationship. So that their uncle could be constantly as happy as he had been on Wednesday.

"I am not in love with him."

The duck stated, yet again. This wasn't the first time he had to defend himself in front of the kids. "We're very good friends, and that's all their is. Aren't you three glad that your uncle has found a friend?" All that he got in return from them was a simple chuckle. They knew.

After Donald had parked the car, they hopped out of it "Well, we wish you luck"

They said, before running, trying to find a good spot for themselves and the two love birds. They didn't want to be in the way of their confession.

And Donald, who was waiting at his car, did think about their words.

In love? Him? Well... He certainly knew how love felt, but... Yes, he liked to spent time with the chicken. Yes, he liked the chicken around him, and his company. And yes, they had slipped in each others arm once or twice during sleeping, but love? Didn't love cause butterflies in your stomach and a fast beating heart? He didn't feel anything of that. So it couldn't be love after all, right?

While Donald was lost in his thoughts, Gyro was already on the way to the beach, glowing with excitement.

He was, semi, aware of his feelings, or at least by now finally knew that they extended friendship. He wasn't sure yet in what way, but he was sure of one thing: That he was going to find out today. At least he wanted more weekends like this one, he told himself, and when he saw the bright red car on the horizon, he slowed down "I'm here."

He greeted Donald and almost automatically had to smile. This felt so normal, so... Domestic, as if they were a couple for years. Wait. Couple? Had he just really thought that? Blush started to arise at his cheeks, and the duck obviously noticed it, while the two made their way to the beach, the inventor either next to him, or behind him, when the way got slimmer.

"Are you alright? You look so red. Sure you haven't catched a sunburn already?" The worry in his voice came automatically, when you are a uncle of three very active nephews, you're basically worried 24/7. And, he also wanted his friend to be well. Everyone would've cared about their friend, right?

"N-No, I'm alright, the sunscreen is strong enough." Gyro quickly stuttered together, and the sailor just nodded. Eventually, after some silence, Gyro decided it would be best to switch the topic "And, did you try the new suit out yet? I hope everything works well?"

Donald nodded "Yeah, it's really good. I feel safer in this suit than I did before. The new inventions are practical, though some could need improvement." He chuckled.

When the triplets saw them walking over, they decided they had to do something. It was maybe the most cliché plan of their short life's so far, but something had to be done. These two couldn't continue walking around, being so oblivious towards one another.

So, Huey decided to take matters into his own hands and stretched his feet out. Normally, he wouldn't have wished his uncle to trip and fall over, but in this case, it was necessary for once

And, as the bad luck had already foreshadowed, their uncle did trip and fall, the scientist, that had walked behind him, falling on top of Donald. The three cheered, that was exactly what they had wanted. They didn't care how cliché this was, they knew it would work.

And sometimes, the most cliché ways were the best ways. As Donald rolled on his back in a dizzy attempt to orientate himself, his eyes catched the eyes of the scientist. In that moment, he realised it.

Maybe love wasn't all butterflies and a fast beating heart. Maybe love was all about finding comfort in someone. And being at home, with someone. And with Gyro, he certainly was at home.

"I-I love you."

The duck spurted out, his face immediately after becoming so red, that it could have been a rival to the worst sunburn. As Gyro heard the words, the chicken blushed again, before clearing his throat "I-I can only agree. The time we spent together is the most beautiful time of my entire day. I'm always looking forward to it, and when you're gone, I feel lonely. I feel like a part of me is missing. With you..."

"I feel comforted and at home. I feel like I'm in a safe space with someone, that understands me and doesn't judge me. And someone, that certainly knows my deepest secrets."

As the two joined each other in a loving kiss, the triplest cheered. They had known it all along.