#not featured is the pigeon with flashy eyes

[whirlybirdwhat]

Tapetum Lucidum Part Two

You thought I was done? Well think again because the amazing @minchen0897 has inspired me to pick up a pen and write some cp9 with glow eyes. (I will post the asks after this fghjdska) 

Anyway, assume this is in an alternate universe where Kaku and Kalifa ate their devil fruits prior to the Water 7 mission.

Enjoy!!! Ao3

--

Iceburg stared at the man in front of him, wondering what beyond the obvious was off-putting about him.

There was the pigeon on his shoulder of course, and his penchant for only speaking through that pigeon, but Iceburg had weirder than that on his team of master shipbuilders. His goatee was in a strange design and his silent stare put him off but…

There was remarkable skill in the boat that Lucci had made.

“You’re hired. I’ll get a team to show you around.” Iceburg turned and picked his nose, wondering belatedly if this man could be the World Government’s new watchful eye.

Nah.

Too obvious – a pigeon, really?

“Thank you!” The pigeon – or, Lucci rather, speaks, the man’s face himself remaining entirely impassive.

“Hmm. Well, Yes, yes… Paulie! Show Lucci here around!” He gestures with his hand absentmindedly. “Mm. I need to get a secretary.”

“Sure, Boss – Say Lucci, right? You got any cash to spare?”

Lucci nods to Iceburg on his way out, not saying anything, but he is unsettling non-the-less. Iceburg is sure he can get used to it however.

A light flashes in the corner from the sun, reflecting off the metal and shining directly at Lucci as he exits the door.

Ah. That’s what it was, Iceburg discovers as he realizes what put him off so about the man. Devil Fruit Powers.

You can’t mistake the shine in those eyes after all.

-

“I’m here to be your secretary sir.”

“What.”

The woman before Iceburg pushes up her glasses again, with an almost imperious manner. “I said, I am here to be your secretary sir.”

“I-“

“I heard you needed a secretary, so I stepped up to the plate. My name is Kalifa sir, it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Well, its not like he didn’t need one.

“I guess… We can discuss payment inside?” He gestures to his office, albeit confusedly.

“No need sir.” The woman, Kalifa he supposes, says again with that imperious manner.  “I have it already written down, and you have to get to a press meeting in twenty minutes. The Yagaba is waiting.”

Okay then.

(Is it just him, or is there something off about this woman as well? Could she be the World Governments eyes on him?

She’s certainly upsetting enough.)

-

Two weeks later, and Iceburg’s walking to get a midnight snack when someone passes through the doorway in front of him. He’s been weary ever since Kalifa came, and stiffens with the thought that this could be an attempt on the blue prints.

He peers into the kitchen, and is met by the sight of two, shining orbs, standing ominously in the middle of the kitchen.

“Wha-“

Theres a familiar gesture in the shadows, of someone pushes their glass up, and the orbs are no more.

He turns on the light.

“Kalifa?”

“Apologies for startling you sir, your schedule had a midnight snack in it, I’d thought I’d be ready.” She puts down the plate of cookies in her hand, steaming hot from being freshly Reheated.

“Ah. Thank you.”

Another devil fruit user. He should stop being surprised at this rate – this is the Grand Line after all.

Anything can happen.

“You’re welcome sir.”

-

Blueno the barman is a devil fruit user, this Iceburg notes immediately as he walks into the bar. His eyes flash unsubtly in the dim light of the bar, and every swish of the head attracts Iceburg’s eyes to him.

Granny Kokoro, next to him and with a message from Franky, sees it to.

“Another one aye? I was told one of your foremen had eyes like flashlights.”

“Mm,” He responds, taking a sip of his drink, “That would be Lucci. My secretary is the same. I don’t know what fruits however, and it would be rude to pry.”

Kokoro slaps Iceburg on the back. “Ha! Since when has that stopped you?”

Blueno is watching him closely, though Iceburg is sure, devil fruits barred, that he can’t hear them from the cacophony Franky’s thugs are making in the corner, in order to hush out the information Kokoro has.

Still.

(A spy? No, there were too many missed opportunities at this point.)

“I don’t suppose it has.” He answers her, looking to move the conversation on.  “Now what were you saying about. Franky’s message?”

“Ah!” She chugs back her drink. “He says that if you keep on building on the south side he’s going to raid your mansion.”

Iceburg snorts, and all is well.

“He can dream, the idiot.”

-

“My dream is to be a shipwright, whippersnapper! So hire me please! I’m a ship mechanic!”

Iceburg blinks and blinks again at the man who quite literally jumped into his office. At least this one for sure can’t be a spy, because what kind of spy jumps across an entire city for a job interview?

“Sure.” He says, not really caring, Kalifa would have stopped him by now if he was a bad choice for a hire.

“You won’t regret this!” The man – had he even introduced himself yet? – shakes his hand rapidly.

“Of course,” he says in turn, and that’s the end of it.

-

The next week comes with a flurry of rumors about lights that flash in the sky, around the same time of Kaku’s rooftop runs.

Orbs that glance down and glimmer in the low lights, that hover ominously before free falling down abandoned building sides, and the odd elongated proportions that appear with it.

Iceburg, when the rumors reach his own ears, puts his head down and sighs.

He should have known.

-

Five years later, he should have ignored their devil fruit powers and gone with the instinct that the World Government has some godawful spies that bullshitted their way into (almost) succeeding.

He sighs in a manner oddly similar to a sigh five years ago.

At least there will be no more lights in the sky.

“BOSS!” Paulie slams open the door, familiar pirate in tow. “LOOK WHAT THE STRAW KID’S EYES CAN DO!”

Iceburg retracts his former statement.

Oh well. This is the Grand Line after all.

[sabraeal]

The Only Adult in the Room, Chapter 3

[Read on AO3]

Written for @meibemeibelline in honor of her BIRTHDAY 🎉🎉 Mei was one of our youngest members of fandom way back when we started hosting events, and now she is a full fledged adult with a college degree, making me feel old every day 🤣 This ended up being less Cute Children and more Izana Is Tortured By His Crush than I thought it would be, but I have a feeling you won’t have a problem with that...

When Mother had explained to him his duties at the daycare-- ones she had referred to quite vaguely as giving Garak-san an extra set of hands-- Izana had thought he understood the breadth of his commitment. Be on hand for when the children needed tending. Keep a watchful eye. Make sure no one got lost on the way to and from-- and sometimes, in-- the potty. Hold Ryuu when Garak needed more range of movement than a baby carrier could allow.

Bleaching baby toys, however, never quite made the list.

“That’s because you’re a rich kid.” Shidnote snaps his nitrile glove-- latex allergies develop with exposure, Garak had told them, grinning as she added, be a terrible time for you boys to start-- loud enough to make Izana wince. “Your parents just bought you guys new toys. The grandmas in my complex do this like every other month or something. Humans got gross mouths, you know, and babies love to put them on stuff.”

The water’s warm when Izana plunges his hands into it, enough to make them sweat. Born with palms that Lowen-sensei deemed ‘perfect for pastry’ upon their first meeting, the sensation for clamminess is a discovery he could have done without. “A strange position for you to take, considering how often you like to talk about finding another one to put on yours.”

“The point is that making out is hot enough that you don’t think about what germs you’re passing. Also, sometimes you touch a boob.” He doesn’t see so much as feel Shidnote’s gaze slip to the corner of his eyes, one corner of his mouth hooked with a humor Izana doubts he’ll share. “Speaking of, what are you going to do about Haki-chan?”

“Arleon?” Izana sits back on his heels, gloves dripping over the tub. “What are you talking about?”

“You like her, right?” It’s less a question than a comment, like a single discussion makes Shidnote an authority on the matter. “So the next step is to tell her. You know, confess your love, and then she’s like take care of me, and you’re like, I--”

“I don’t like her.” His blood pressure rises every time she enters homeroom, smiling her fake smile and standing all pigeon-toed as she asks if she’s done something right at the board, as if she didn’t rank ten points higher than most of the boys in their class. “Where did you even get that idea?”

The truth only seems to amuse Shidnote; he sits back and had a good chortle before he sees fit to remind him, “You nearly blew a gasket at me mentioning her rack.”

“That?” It’s awkward to use a brush for most of these toys; he takes his to a rubber duck and nearly loses his eye trying to hold onto it. “I didn’t realize that I needed to have ulterior motives to ask that you don’t reduce our classmate to a single physical feature.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Shidenote agrees with absolutely no conviction. “She has an ass too. Can’t believe I forgot about that.”

Izana did not make a career out of dangling hooks at his last school to not know when he’s being baited. It’s a flashy lure to be sure, one that demands a response rather than being ignored; the sort either very earnest or very stupid fish find their cheeks impaled on. How fortunate he’s never been either. “That’s not what I meant.”

If Shidnote’s disappointed by the lack of nibbles on his line, his grin certainly doesn’t show it. “Of course not. You’re a man of culture. You’re thinking about how she’s got legs for days.”

The thing is-- he’s not. It might be typical of a boy his age to ponder the more classically attractive attributes of the female student body, but the pastime has never much appealed to Izana, not even when it was made plain that the attention would be welcome, if not actively encouraged. He’s got larger concerns than cup-size, a future poised to fly or fall depending on how he plays these next few years--

But all that’s forgotten as black tights flicker across the back of his eyes, his eidetic memory no longer displaying stock statistics but stockings stretched from the hem of a skirt to the bared ankles of school shoes.

A stacking ring slips out of his hands with a splash, sending warm, bleach-scented water spattering all over his uniform slacks. It’s a measurement he’s only seen since Arleon’s locker sits above his. It’s not like he’s tried to notice. “I meant that she’s a classmate. She deserves to be spoken of like a person, not a pin-up.”

Izana does not blush; his skin might be pale enough for it, but his body has learned the price of betrayal far too well to risk it. It hardly seems to matter when Shidnote smirks anyway, far too knowing for his own health. “Oh are pin-ups not people?”

“You know I didn’t mean--”

“Oh, forget it,” Shidnote huffs, waving him off. “I’m fucking with you. Someone needs to if you think you’re above wanting to get a handful of Haki-chan.”

Izana lets his mouth pull as thin as his patience. “I’ve told you, I don’t think of my classmates in that way.”

“Really?” Shidnote scoffs. “You trying to tell me that if you had the chance to touch her tits, you’d turn your nose up at it?”

This is the problem with the boys his age; they think of every encounter with the opposite sex as taking an opportunity instead of creating one. A caper instead of a compromise. As if by virtue of being born female precluded them from ever wanting to be touched.

With a sigh, he scrubs a giraffe a hair harder than he means. “I don’t go around looking for opportunities to take advantage--”

“Fine, fine. How about if she let you? No.” Shidnote grins, too proud of himself. “If she asked you to.”

“I--”

“No, hold up.” One gloved hand flies up, water splattering in an arc over the grass. “If she begged you.”

Izana doesn’t snort-- Father would have a fit of apoplexy if he knew his own son was even entertaining the idea-- but he does say, “That hardly seems likely.”

“Aw, c’mon, Wisteria.” Shidnote claps him on the shoulder, soaking it through. At least his shirt is the one piece of clothing that’s supposed to be bleached. “Girls like you, even if you don’t appreciate it.”

What he would appreciate is some silence, something most of the female demographic in his class doesn’t seem to grasp, nor Shidnote. “I wasn’t aware that we were discussing girls as a whole.”

“We’re talking about Haki-chan, who is a girl, and isn’t immune to your charms.” That last part seemed a reach, even for Shidnote, but telling him so would only encourage him. “Are you trying to say that if she came up to you, shirt half-unbuttoned, and told you you could touch...?”

It’s terrible how attentive certain parts of him become at that picture, entirely unbidden. 

“I’m not refuting that she’s physically attractive--” he’s not supposed to choke on his words like this, not Izana Wisteria-- “I’m only saying--”

“I’m not asking for an objective analysis on whether Haki-chan is considered hot,” Shidnote laughs, stealing a stacking ring from his bucket. “I’m asking whether touching her would melt your ice a little or what.”

Patience is critical for any conversation, whether it be in the boardroom or over a couple buckets filled with water and bleach. To create a pause so seamless as to be natural veers close to an art, and to infuse it with weight the way Father does might as well be a masterpiece.

But Izana does not pause here, he hesitates. Words stick to his mouth, crowding and jostling until finally he spits out, “I’m respectful, not dead.”

Shidnote grins.

“But that doesn’t mean I like her,” he informs him, nearly tripping over his own tongue in his hurry. “She’s intolerable.”

Shidnote shrugs, too pleased with himself. “That’s the great thing about dating: you don’t have to talk.”

Izana doesn’t even bother to glare; there’s no use when Shidnote isn’t even acquainted with shame. “Unlike some people, I don’t make all my long-term decisions with my lower head.”

“What about some short term ones, then?” Shidnote sits back on his heels, tugging at his gloves. Each time they slip out from under his fingers, making a wet slap as they settle back against his skin. “Field Day’s coming up. Not a bad time to impress Haki-chan.”

Izana may not flush, but his collar itches, which might be worse. “I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

Shidnote’s whistle grates, but he’s pretty sure that’s by design. “That’s right, His Highness doesn’t really do physical activity.”

“I’m fourth dan in kendo,” he reminds him, for whatever good it might do. “But I’m not familiar with organized sports, I suppose.”

“Well, you’re tall.” Shidnote squints at him, like it was possible to get his measure while they both sat here, soaked in their uniforms. “That’ll give you some advantage in a race. You could probably do a leg of the relay. Maybe the 500 meter? Or do you run weird?”

“I don’t--” Izana tamps down on his annoyance, taking a deep breath before he continues, “I am at least proficient in cross country, though I can’t say I’m overly interested in running laps in June.”

“Yeah.” Dropping back on his hands, Shidnote let out a huff. “It’s going to be hot as hell. Don’t know why we can’t do it in the fall like everyone else.”

The answer-- at least as imparted by Mother over dinner last night-- is the school trip. Group rates were apparently much cheaper in October, long after the flush of summer had faded, and to do both would place the trip either be right before or right after it. Which would either impinge on the setting up or taking down of Sports Day, and with a school that touted its focus on academic achievement and personal responsibility...

“Money,” Izana tells him. “It’s cheaper to do it now.”

Shidnote snorts. “But everyone here is rich!”

He shrugs. There’s no use telling him how he’s espoused the same argument at the dinner table, only to have mother ask him to pass the rice.

“Hey, you know, our three-legged race is coed.” Shidnote winks, his sense of justice long forgotten. “Maybe you and Haki-chan--”

“Those are decided by random draw,” Izana reminds him, rubbing at his cheek. He must be in direct sunlight if they’re feeling this hot. “You can’t possibly be insinuating that I should rig the selection.”

“No, but listen: consider how easy it would be to trip.”

There’s no conceivable way he would debase himself like that in front of the whole school, but Shidnote seems far less concerned with his pride, and more with, “Then Haki-chan could get all tangled up in those long legs of yours, and you’d both go down, her under you, and then you’re on top, and it’s a complete accident but your hand is right there, and--”

“Don’t.”

Shidnote’s grin stretches to dangerous proportions. “Just think about it!”

“Why would I when you’re already thinking about it enough for the both of us,” he mutters, setting the last of his toys out on the towel to dry. “You read entirely too much hentai.”

“Fine,” Shidnote sighs. “What if you did the relay, she sees you win big, and then asks if you’d like to go behind the bleach--”

“What’s a relay?”

They both startle, Izana nearly upending his bleach water as two cat’s eyes blink at him from over Shidnote’s shoulder. “Obi, he breathes, shaking his head, “I didn’t see you there.”

“Stupid,” Shidnote breathes, shaking his fist as he uses the other hand to pry his brother off his back. “Make noise when you walk.”

Obi blinks, the afternoon sun making his eyes shine bright as coins. “But you’re always telling me to shut up.”

“Don’t try to make this my--”

“A relay is a race,” Izana informs him, before the situation can spiral too much further out of control. A constant threat when it comes to the Shidnote brothers. “A team race, where you pass a baton between members.”

“Oh.” Obi stares up at him from where his brother has him pinned. “I’m really good at racing.”

“You’re really good at running,” Shidnote huffs, poking his chest. “It’s different. And this doesn’t involve you. Big kid stuff only.”

“Awww,” he whines, reaching a pitch only dogs can hear. “But I wanna--”

“No.”

“Why big kids only?”

Izana doesn’t startle this time-- where one child wanders, the gaggle is soon to follow-- but Shidnote muffles a curse, leaving him to face Kiki Seiran’s disappointment all on his own.

“Obi runs circles around you all the time,” she informs Shidnote with no little judgment, somehow looking down her nose at him at less than a meter tall. “He’d be an asset in any race.”

“Asset?” Shidnote chokes.

Izana resists the urge to rub his temples; there’s no point in trying to ease his headache when it’s only going to get worse. “Shidnote-kun and I were just discussing Field Day, which is an event for...big kids.”

“Field Day?” Zen doesn’t toddle anymore, but when he traipses up beside Kiki, that’s when Izana realizes-- he moves like a kid. His face scrunches up in confusion, matching her curious tilt. They might as well be twins for how much they look alike. “What’s that?”

“It’s when everyone in the gakuen goes outside and plays games together.” He’s suddenly aware of the five sets of glittering eyes watching him, enthusiasm completely undeterred. “Ah, as I said, it’s just for our class. We have to pick which events we’re going to represent our class in.”

“But we’re in the school, aren’t we?” Obi squeaks, squirming out from his brother’s hold. “We get to do it too right?”

“It’s for big kids, he said,” Shidnote snaps. “Not babies.”

“B-but.” Shirayuki plops herself into his lap, looking up at him with her impossibly determined eyes. “I play too.”

Izana may be an adult, but oh, it’s hard to say no to her eyes. “Ah, Shirayuki-chan, I don’t think--”

“What a great idea!” Garak says, strolling over with a grin. “A Field Day would be the perfect way to entertain the kids.”

Izana knows extra work when he hears it. “But, Garak-san--”

“Why don’t you make it your special project,” she says, smile all teeth. “I’ll let your mother know you’re working on it.”

[themysteriousphoenix]

Through the Universe - An Era AU

The wall was dark, dingy, and annoyingly solid. Tina looked around her at the brick walls, the dirty, stone floor, and the lack of a door. The man at the MInistry said, very clearly, that she was to walk through the Leaky Cauldron and through the door at the back of the pub. Well, she had done that, but the alley showed no sign of a door, only a few old wine barrels and liquor crates.

Sighing, Tina rolled her eyes at her luck and was about to make her way back into the bar to ask for directions. The man at the bar had been eyeing her curiously when she walked in, and she hated the thought of going back out there, especially after this long. They would know she had been in this alley, alone, staring at a wall for several minutes. It was hardly a good first impression. She leaned back against the cool bricks, the cars moving by on Charing Cross Road still a constant background symphony. She pulled out her muggle mobile, a gift from her sister, Queenie, when she had moved out of their shared apartment to live with her boyfriend. They had become all the rage among the wizarding world over the past few years, the instant information was quite helpful, especially for Aurors. She illuminated the screen and saw that she had been here for eight minutes. That would never do, she had to figure this out on her own or figure out how to make a hasty exit.

“Alright, Scamander?” a voice asked from just inside the pub door. It must have been the landlady, she had been wiping down tables after the lunch rush when Tina came in a few minutes previously.

“Good morning, Hannah,” a quiet voice replied. It was soft and melodic, and the voice seemed to be coming toward Tina. She bristled slightly and prepared herself for embarrassment, but as the source of the voice appeared, he seemed to be embarrassed enough for the both of them.

“Oh, hello,” he said in surprise as he rounded the corner, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was back here.” His rust-colored hair fell across his forehead in tangled curls and he glanced up at her briefly before looking away toward the wall. “Um, after you,” he said, gesturing toward the wall and stepping back away from Tina.

Tina tried to smile but, instead, she ended up biting her lip and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “I, uh...I don’t actually know how to get in,” she said, preparing herself for the laughter that was bound to come. He surprised her, though, as he looked up at her with wide eyes.

“You’re American.”

“Yes.”

The man looked at her for several beats before he started and cleared his throat. “So sorry, er, here.” Pulling out his wand, he seemed to be counting bricks before tapping a random red brick quickly and stepping back. The wall seemed to unfold before her, the bricks stacking upon each other and rotating to form a wide, arched doorway in the wall. The sun shone through the opening, illuminating the back room and the stranger beside her who was watching her with amusement.

“Your first time in Diagon Alley, I take it?” He was grinning down at her, his blue-green eyes sparkling in the light. Tina was looking around in awe at the blatant use of magic before her. This was something she had never seen before, everything back home was so secret, so locked up and shoved away as if their whole world was something to be ashamed of. This was stunning, colorful, and absolutely magical.

“Yeah…” Tina breathed, her eyes finding their way back to the sights before her. “I, honestly, don’t even know where to start.” She heard the man beside her chuckle at her wonder before he stepped through the doorway, turning toward her and beckoning her closer with his hand.

“Here, let’s let the doorway close,” he said as Tina crossed the threshold. She turned as the bricks behind her unfurled to create a solid wall once more. “Well, welcome to Diagon Alley,” the man said, looking down at her.

“It’s amazing,” Tina stated as she grinned up at him.

“You don’t have anything like this back home?” he asked, curiously, as he began to walk forward along the cobblestone path.

Tina shook her head, following at his side. “No, definitely not. We have some hidden wizarding shops and a few that lead from one to the next, like a no-maj strip mall, but nothing like this.” Looking around, Tina smiled at a child who was walking by, an owl cage hanging from his small hand. “Even hidden, the shops would never dare to have this much magic on display.”

“Well, Britain isn’t as strict as all that. A lot of wizards don’t know how to blend in anyway, there are a few too many muggle sightings every year, but,” he shrugged, “what can you do?”

Chuckling, Tina looked forward down the path. She saw ancient storefronts on both sides of the streets, the winding cobblestones leading toward a large, marble building at the end. Along the way she saw robe shops, book stores, piles of cauldrons in every shape and size imaginable, and even shops full of various creatures, some of which she had never seen before.

“Oh! Thank you for helping me get through the doorway, uh…” Tina realized with a start that, though she had spent several minutes with this man, she hadn’t asked his name.

“Newt.”

“Newt. Thank you, Newt.” She turned to him with a grin, “I’m Tina.”

“Hello, Tina,” he said with a smile, and Tina giggled in response. “I suppose you are just here looking around, then?” he continued curiously.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard of this place but I wanted to see for myself. I have always heard that it is pretty impressive.”

“Did it live up to your expectations?” Newt inquired.

“Oh yes!” Tina said, excitedly, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“If you think this is impressive, you ought to see the magical streets in Beijing. They are even older and more colorful than this,” he said, his head swinging around to look into the windows of a shop that housed dozens of owls, pigeons, and tropical birds of all sizes, all in cages that lined the windows and the shelves inside the door.

“Wait, you’ve been to Beijing?” Tina asked after a few moments, her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Oh, er, yeah. That’s kind of my job,” he said, “I travel around the world and study magical creatures.”

“You study...wait. Hold on. You do what now?” Tina asked, her eyes wide as she placed one hand on his forearm. He stopped and turned toward her.

“I’m a Magizoologist.” Newt looked like he was struggling to find a balance somewhere between pride and embarrassment, but Tina’s look of stunned awe made him smile, settling on pride.

“That’s so cool!” Tina smiled up at him, her grin infectious, “What is it you do, exactly?”

Newt began speaking enthusiastically as they walked, pausing his stories of traveling occasionally to point out something interesting in a storefront. Tina couldn’t help noticing that he was quite attractive. His features were soft, yet he held a secretive strength within him. He was interesting to talk to and, even though Tina was only on assignment in Britain for three weeks, she was finding that she wouldn’t mind spending more time talking with him. She hated to think of their short time together ending so soon.

Eventually, they reached a nondescript, blue door and Newt paused. “Well, this is me. I mean, not me, exactly, but...my publisher. I have a meeting in a few.”

“Oh, well...um, It was nice to talk to you, Newt. I really enjoyed meeting you.” Tina flashed him a quick, closed-lipped smile, disappointment evident on her face.

Newt turned and placed his hand on the doorknob as Tina turned away, crossing the street, wandering back toward the main part of town. He stilled and, after a moment of hesitation, released the knob and turned around. “Tina!”

Tina whipped around, her short hair waving in the breeze. Newt was approaching her quickly, jogging across the street to catch up to her.

“Tina…” Newt pursed his lips before plunging ahead, “Do you want to meet me later?”

“What”

“Dinner. Will you meet me for dinner later? I-- I talked so much about myself with you, I’d love to hear more about you. I mean, that is if you…”

“Yes!”

“Excuse me?”

“I’d love to, Newt,” Tina’s smile widened and she giggled quietly. “Very much.”

“Oh! Oh...good. Yes. Um, here.” Newt pulled out a small, silver mobile phone. It was quite old and out of date, but Tina had quickly come to understand that he was a simple guy, one who didn’t need anything flashy or complicated. He handed the small phone over and Tina bit her lip to control her giddiness as she typed her number quickly and saved it in his contacts.

“Tina Goldstein,” Newt said quietly, looking up at her.

“Yep, that’s me,” Tina said, pulling her long cardigan closer to her body to shield herself from the wind.

“Well, I’ll see you later, then, Tina Goldstein.”

“Yes, you will.” Tina smiled once more at him, slowly backing away as she waved at him. “Have a good meeting.” Newt waved and turned, looking back over his shoulder once on his way back to the door and flashing a quick, lopsided grin at her. She practically skipped back down the cobblestone path, a smile plastered to her face as she traveled back the way she had come. She felt her phone buzz in her back pocket and she pulled it out quickly, looking at the screen with anticipation.

Meet you at Rosa Lee’s at 18:00?

Tina did the math in her head, figuring out the Standard Time equivalent, then typed a response.

Looking forward to it. :) See you then!

Wiping her screen clear, she placed the phone back into her pocket and followed the rough path back to the town center, her eyes scanning the storefronts for the tea shop, a smile never leaving her face.

[vivithefolle]

Have you read endrina's "The Secret Language of Plants" series on AO3? It is so good and so long and it does some really amazing stuff with Ron. With all characters really, except for the Death Eaters and Voldemort (and a little bit of Dumbledore) this author creates the best versions of these characters that JKR *wishes* she had been well rounded and clever and emotionally honest enough to write. "The Meaning of Mistletoe" is the first one. Its a full canon rewrite. All 7 books are covered!

I am very torn.

On the one hand it contains Drarry and Snupin and Geormione and I hate those.

On the other hand... the Ron-appreciation is fan-freaking-tastic.

Find it here.

Ah of course it’s somewhat a “Severus Snape mentors Harry Potter”, so we get those:

Severus had a tell. His face would be impassive, his voice perfectly even and smooth and devoid of all inflection. But if he found something funny, his left hand would twitch and he would close his fist instead of laughing. Harry was probably the only person who knew (maybe Remus did, he didn’t know). Twice, Severus had found one of Ron’s comments funny.

I gotta admit I have a soft spot for the Ron&Snape BROTP, AVPM has a way of making you appreciate it

“He has a… a permanent poker face” whispered Hermione as Severus waved Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, in the direction of the lake.

“You just have to learn how to read him” explained Harry while petting Buckbeak’ head to keep him quiet. “I know for a fact that he finds Ron very funny.”

“Funny?” Ron was having a day full of affronts. “He has given me more detentions than McGonagall ever has.”

(Not true. It was a tie).

How the Yule Ball ought to have gone - minus the gross Drarry shit:

Harry’s robes had belonged to three different witches of various tastes and body types before being purchased by Mrs. Weasley and adapted to be Ron’s formal outfit.

The next step had been very simple. Ron still cared about what other people thought. Harry did not. He really, really, did not. They traded. Ron resisted at first, because it was the polite thing to do, but once Harry got ahold of the dress and started to jump on the bed saying “mine, mine, mine” he accepted the exchange.

His smile had been so soft and wondering, as if Harry had given him the world. Harry felt as if he were trespassing on some religious ceremony, so grateful Ron looked, so easy it had been to make him happy.

Harry’s robes were green, to bring out his eyes. The colour also went very well with Ron’s hair and he looked quite fine. Not as elegant as Draco, for sure, but certainly one of the handsomest students in the ball

[...]

Harry could honestly say that he loved his new dress robes. Specially the cuffs. Oh, the glorious cuffs with three layers of lace. Harry could say that he loved the robes in all their frilly magnificence, but that wouldn’t be completely truthful because what he loved was the effect he had on people.

Headcanon accepted:

“Honestly, I don’t know why are you all acting so surprised.” He said to a variedly pink audience. Seamus Finnigan looked as if he had measles. “They are my brothers, you know. I had to grow up with them. And I am friends with Harry.”

Ron, like Percy, was easily overshadowed by the more explosive and flashy performances of his siblings. Ginny in particular, with her choleric character and her excellent jinxes, came on top of Ron. But Ron was not the runt of the group, not at all. Ron had slowly and painstakingly come to master a subtle non-verbal almost motionless magic, ever since his first year of school when he smuggled his wand to use during punishments. You would not see Ron cast anything, but he was, all the time. All. The. Time. Like someone compulsively pressing the save button on a computer. This was Ron, only with magic, defensive magic. It was now past conscious habit and it had become a tic.

Look, his brothers turned his favourite teddy bear into a spider, when he was on his second year a teacher tried to obliviate him, and the next year he was mauled by an over-enthusiastic Black (“so sorry, Ronald. Do you want a broom? I will get you a broom. Or better yet, a flying motorbike. I am sure you will look great in leather”). Note that he very generously was leaving the first year out, because it was the one time in Ron’s life when he actually went looking for trouble. Every other time the trouble came to find him.

It was only natural, given that he lived in a magical household where he could practice magic during the summers, that he would practice all the protective spells he could learn. He lived with Ginny, too, in case people had forgotten that. It was mere survival instinct on his part.

(Oddly, Percy had been quite helpful. He gave him tips and let him borrow his notes).

By the time he was starting his fourth year, it wasn't that Ron could cast protego in his sleep, it’s that he did. Constantly and absentmindedly. On himself, on Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna (for heaven’s sake that girl was too fragile, someone should look after her). Really, he was casting protego on everyone all the time.

MY BABIES MY UNAPPRECIATED BABIES

Percy was not his dad, he did not share his fascination with muggle ingenuity, but he did pay attention to his father. More than any of his brothers, actually, not that it was ever appreciated. Percy was never appreciated. (Not a complaint, just a statement. At the moment that lack of appreciation was what allowed him to work unnoticed. Hooray for ignored middle children).

(Side note: He should check with Ron, because Ronald was also very much a middle child like him and it occurred to Percy now that his little brother might be sitting on some big secrets of his own.)

Even though this fic went with the “Draco is second best to Hermione in class” cliché and I hate it it does get some things right:

Hermione wasn’t very good with emotions, hers or anyone else’s. She had always exhibited more awareness than Ron, it’s true, but that was more due to Ron having a philosophical acceptance of life than to any particular sensitivity on Hermione’s part. She was not very good with emotions because emotions clouded judgement and Hermione put all her might in her razor sharp mind. This is something that she understood very well.

This is why that morning, after breakfast, she had unfolded a piece of parchment on the table (sadly there were only two notebooks in the house and they were mostly full) and had announced, with great assuredness, that Voldemort must had been and still be very scared.

We love a Minerva that appreciates her chess lion

Minerva had put a swift end to the competition for Most Mischievous Student Ever by naming Potter (Harry) and Weasley (Ron) the ultimate and unsurpassable winners. (“I mean it, don’t even think about trying to take their place, unsurpassable I said.”)

She stood by her judgement because Harry was giving her headaches even in absentia and although Ronald grumbled a little bit that “he didn’t do nothing” there was not much force behind it. Minerva didn’t know exactly what Ronald had done or not done, but she would glare at him as if she knew and the boy looked guilty enough.

At this point, she wouldn’t even be that surprised if he turned out to be an animagus too. He had kept quiet about Severus’ involvement with Harry and he casted protegos nonverbally, so who knew what else he could do.

Ron’s Patronus is the best Patronus and this is canon

Ron was good, had always been good. When asked, because the quality and endurance of his patronus was amazing, he said he just had to think of that pigeon message that told him that his friend was alive and that was enough.

[SPOILER ALERT]

And Ron fucking killing Voldemort is like... *chief’s kiss*

Ron had grown as a young child in a big family. Not even the youngest which is a position of honour in a certain way and often featured prominently in fairy tales. No, he was the one just before, young but not the youngest. There were so many brilliant brothers before him that he knew he would never get to have an “-est” for him. Not the brightest or the funniest or the bravest.

Ron had gone through a process of acceptance in life. By the time he came to Hogwarts he had known and accepted that if he didn’t manage to do something magnificent and astonishing, he would be a bit of an embarrassment for the family. The runt, the one who did nothing remarkable. But even if he achieved a wonderful feat he would still be following the steps of his brothers and so it would not be something extraordinary. He could not win either way and he had accepted that.

By the time he was in his fourth year he had come to accept that his best friend, Harry Potter, was too much of a good person to resent him for all the attention he got and that Ron craved. During that year with the stupid trials Ron had come to accept that he would always be overshadowed by his brothers and friends. Talented Bill and Charlie and even Percy and his good grades, funny twins, clever Hermione, and lastly Harry who was very odd but still the Boy Who Lived. Ron was none of that and it was a bit like drinking black tea with no sugar, it wasn’t nice but he could take it and he could still care about all of them.

Ron had accepted a life of being the runt, the spare, the disappointment. Not even the black sheep of the family, not even that because Percy of all people beat him to it. Ron would be the grey dull brother, not so bad to be the outcast, not so good to be someone for himself. He had accepted it because at that moment making sure all the people he loved were safe was way more important than Ron’s sense of self-worth.

He had accepted it.

Perhaps this is not clear. He had accepted it. He was resigned to a lacklustre life, to becoming an insipid note in everyone else’s lives’ accounts. Ron Weasley, brother of the founders of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Ron Weasley, older brother of record holder Quidditch player Ginevra Weasley. Ron Weasley, brother of William the curse-breaker and Charles the dragon-tamer. Ron Weasley, friend of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Never in his wildest dreams and fantasies in which he got all the recognition and awards, never, had Ron thought he would become Ron Weasley the One Who Slayed Voldemort.

[shorthaircutsmodels]

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[hellotechsgeeksfan]

Here are some fun, flashy and practical car gadgets to make your drive more enjoyable.

Let’s face it when you’re driving from A to B and sometimes to C, it can get a little boring and monotonous listening to a DVD on high rotation but these car gadgets will help liven up your ride … hopefully without causing any road rage incidents. From the futuristic to the cool to the downright quirky and ridiculous, here are five car gadgets you can easily live without but what would be the fun in that?

Drivemocion LED Car Sign

Tell drivers what you really think of their road antics with the Drivemocion without needing to lift a (middle) finger. The EX SERIES is the 4th Generation of the car gadgets allowing you to express a deep set of emotions for your fellow drivers with 16 messages from ‘sorry’ to ‘back off’. The sign simply fixes to the inside of the rear car window with the remote control attached to the front windscreen.

GPS Homing Device

Lost your car in the shopping center car park again? The GPS Homing Device named after the one and only homing pigeon is small enough to fit on your keychain. There are two buttons; one so that you switch it on or off and the other so you can program in the destination of your car which will eventually lead you back to it. It’s that easy. The GPS Homing Device will run for up to 20 hours on two AAA batteries.

Car DVR camera

The Dual Camera Car Blackbox DVR with 3 Inch Touch is one of the most useful car gadgets on the market, the equivalent of a black box on an airplane. You’ll be able to keep a closer eye on other drivers on the road and record time-stamped road footage you can use to contest insurance claims and fraudulent traffic violations. Features include a 3-inch touch screen, built-in microphone, car adapter, and 1.5-hour battery life.

Maplock GPS Ant-Theft Advice

With GPS theft on the rise, the Maplock GPS Ant-Theft Advice is a handy car lock that only protects your car against theft; it provides dual protection for your GPS. Maplock is a security device that latches onto a GPS unit (from 3.5 inches to 5 inches in size) and cables it to the steering wheel. This gives would-be car thieves no choice but to either leave your GPS alone or steal your car wheel along with it.

Cobra iRadar

Have a need for speed? Not that we are condoning driving over the speed limit but you can stay safely under the radar and drive between the lines with the Cobra iRadar available for the iPhone and Android, helping you detect cameras and laser guns on the road. It is the world’s first and largest community-based detection system. The hardware is mountable to the windshield interior of your car and integrates with the free app.

Gadgets don’t have to be limited to the home or the office, there are a lot of devices that can you can kit your car out with and be the envy of all your mates. Some of the best car gadgets on the market are not only flashy but are also practical and some even life-saving. So the next time you’re at your local electrical store or buying another video game, why not spend your hard-earned cash on car gadgets instead.