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tanadrin · 3 years

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Dev Patel and the Green Knight

I finally got around to seeing The Green Knight. Overall, I enjoyed it--David Lowery does a good job capturing the essential weirdness of the tale, which is very much about taking a mundane circumstance (a Christmas feast) and suddenly catapulting the reader into a mythic otherworld through the intrusion of the alien and monstrous, and the fantastical costumes, dramatic lighting, and dissonant score all contribute very well to a sense of otherness that permeates the original story.

But I find it interesting--and, I'll admit, a little frustrating--that no modern film adaptation of medieval literature is really capable of taking the story it's adapting on its own merits. This isn't an objection to modifying the source text, or taking it in new, non-literal direction. I can think of plenty of adaptations of work that play with the source material in interesting ways, and are better for it. Even very faithful adaptations like Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings are inevitably going to alter the source based on the need to adapt it for the screen and the whims of the director. But when it comes to medieval classics, texts like Beowulf or Gawain and the Green Knight are always held at arm's length. An ironic layer is always interpolated into the original story, and even in modified form the story is never allowed to stand on its own.

Contrast, for instance, modern retellings of Arthurian legend; or Wagner's Nibelungenleid; or something like Neil Gaiman's book of Norse mythology. These are all adaptations of much older stories, all medieval; and the authors typically happy to let the stories operate on their own terms. In fact, that is often a selling point: dipping into these tales is a way of sampling an alien culture, one that is remote from us in time rather than space, and part of the sense of heightened drama is the understanding that these stories do not necessarily depict the world in the same way that modern realist prose does. They are fairy-stories, in the Tolkienian sense, and something not quite even like "high fantasy," which, although it is a genre which owes much to the mythic tradition, is usually *told* in the same manner as other realist fiction. And you could take these stories and re-cast them in a realist mold--that's definitely been done with Arthurian legend, either via anachronism or trying to place them in an era-appropriate historical context, and even that yields something quite like the original in tenor, even if the language used to relate the story is often very different.

Watching this movie, I was *strongly* reminded of Robert Zemeckis's Beowulf, in that this did not feel like an attempt to adapt Gawain and the Green Knight for the screen. It felt like an attempt to tell a story *about* Gawain and the Green Knight (the text), a story which does not stand on its own. You don't have to have read the text to understand the movie (although I think some directorial decisions would be a bit mystifying if you hadn't), but the movie definitely situates itself *as a response* to the text. Which is an odd choice! Actually, another good point of comparison is Spike Jonze's Adaptation. It started life as an adaptation of Susan Orlean's The Orchid Thief, but Charlie Kaufman sort of gave up writing that halfway through and wrote a movie about the difficulty he was having writing *that* movie, and the result is something very weird (and very good) that is full of metafictional elements that depend on the existence of this other work, in a way that a straight retelling of The Orchid Thief for the screen obviously would not. And while The Green Knight isn't that extreme, it is definitely playing on the structure of the medieval poem, and replying to it.

The core of the movie (as I understood it) is a tension between young Gawain's aspiration to knightliness, his ambition which is born at least in part from his mother's encouragement, and his own failure to live up to the heroic ideal of greatness. Not chivalric--this is a movie in which the ethos of chivalry makes not even the briefest of appearance, which is weird given that it's nominally an Arthurian romance, and that the chivalric ethos is extremely important to the original text. Instead we have a generic greatness being described, one which is associated with renown, with taking part in mythic events, and with achieving high rank and honor. In the service of seeing her son obtain all this, Gawain's mother seems to cast some kind of spell, whereupon the titular Green Knight appears at Arthur's Christmas-feast; and as in the poem, a game of beheadings is proffered. Gawain accepts the challenge, beheads the knight, and the knight rides away, promising he'll meet Gawain a year and a day hence at the Green Chapel. So far so straightforward. When Gawain sets off a year later to meet the knight, his mother gives him an enchanted belt to keep him safe from harm. Gawain goes on to have a couple of side-of-the-road adventures and mishaps, the kind of thing that's par for the course when you're telling an Arthurian romance, until he arrives at the house of a mysterious benefactor, just about a day away from the Chapel, who grants him hospitality until the day of his challenge.

Now, in the original story, this is where Gawain gets the magic belt, and it's hugely important: Gawain and his host promise to exchange anything they might receive at the end of each day, when the host has been out hunting all day and Gawain has been in the house recuperating from his travels. During this time, the host's wife repeatedly tries to seduce Gawain; and Gawain is trapped between the imperative not to sleep with his host's wife (a major violation of the rules of good chivalric conduct!) and the imperative not to offend the woman (also a violation of those rules). He succeeds, for the most part; he is forced at one point to give his host a kiss at the end of the day, since the wife kissed him; this is shown as him holding nothing back and acting in good faith on the vow he made to his host. When Gawain finally rebuffs the wife for good, she insists that, even if he won't sleep with her, he should at least take a magic belt she has woven that will keep him from harm. He does; but he does *not* give this to his host. When he finally goes to the Green Chapel, the Knight returns the original blow as promised--but only nicks Gawain lightly. He reveals himself to be none other than the host who was sheltering him; the nick was his reprimand for withholding that final gift, but because of his good conduct he is otherwise left unharmed. The whole thing was a test of sorts, one which Gawain passed. Despite flinching at first from the blow, and keeping the belt secret, he shows himself ultimately to be a man of good (albeit not perfect) conduct, and *that* is why he wins honor from the whole affair.

The movie takes this basic narrative and alters it in key places, completely changing the valence of the whole thing. First, Gawain gets the belt at the beginning of his quest, as mentioned; he loses it on the way, but when he reaches the castle, the wife of his host (who succeeds in seducing him with a handjob) presents it to him as if she had woven it herself. He does not actually engage in the game of exchanged with his host, who is *also* not the Green Knight. And we're treated to a monologue about the color green from the wife that feels beat for beat like it's been ripped off from someone's undergraduate essay about Gawain and the Green Knight, which is a little weird even in the context of the rest of the movie. Finally when Gawain reaches the chapel, the knight goes to return the blow--and Gawain completely chickens out and flees. We are then treated to an extended sequence of Gawain returning home; being feted as a hero; earning his knighthood (presumably by lying about what happened); succeeding Arthur as king; him abandoning his low-class beau once she bears him a son, and marrying a princess; going to war; his son dying in a war; and finally, as an old man, being trapped in his throne room as a besieging army breaks its way inside. Just before they do, he removes the magic belt from around his waist, his head fall off, and bam--we're shown this has been an Occurrence At Owl Creek Bridge thing this whole time, and the Green Knight has not yet landed his blow.

Gawain finally takes off the belt, throws it aside, and tells the knight to go ahead--and the knight bends down and congratulates him. In context, the reading seems to be this: the belt is a talisman of Gawain's mother's influence, of external expectations for what kind of man he is. The Knight is Arthur or perhaps an agent of his, and the test in *this* case is whether Gawain can be his own person. All the events leading up to this point are perhaps a part of the original magic Gawain's mother cast, an effort to Lilith Weatherwax her kid to greatness by putting him into an epic story. Implicitly, then, the Gawain and the Green Knight we all know is the false version of the tale, the tale as Gawain's mother would have it told.

This is all very clever. But I'm afraid it's so clever it falls apart in the end. Because the structure of the original story that this depends on is dependent in turn on taking the whole notion of chivalric virtue seriously, which this movie plainly does not. Gawain is shown as irreverent and lustful and a bit of a party animal--lovable and good hearted fundamentally, but definitely not an Arthurian hero. That's fine, but that's a very modern sort of character, one that feels out of place in a movie that is trying very hard also to be tonally unmodern, firmly embedded in a mythic otherwhen of Arthurian legend. Moments of slice-of-life mundaneness, while charming, strain mightily against the epic tone the movie tries to take in other places, and strange events like a ghost seeking her lost head or immense giants striding the landscape. We are jostled: are we in the land of myth? Or are we in historical Britain? We cannot be in both!

And this is a movie that was definitely made by people who had read the original text; not just the original text, but also a great deal of criticism *about* the original text. The movie namechecks the theme of fivefold symmetry that's incredibly important to the structure of the poem; there's the aforementioned undergrad essay about colors about 3/4th of the way through; and there's the fact that the structure of the original plot (down to Morgan LeFay in disguise as an old woman in the host's castle) is present in altered form in every detail. But none of these details add up to much. There's a weird homoerotic kiss with the host that implies that in fact *he* wanted to sleep with Gawain, in addition to his wife; the ghost Gawain encounters early on tells him the Green Knight is in fact someone he knows (and therefore *can't* be the host; I think it's implied to be Arthur, like I said, but this is never quite confirmed), and while all these things *about* the original poem are shown, none of them ever get integrated thematically into the plot.

I think as a result, whatever Lowery was going for, the whole movie kind of falls apart in the end. And that's a pity, because somewhere in there is just a really weird, visually striking, really gripping, embellished-and-polished-for-modern-sensibilities-but-also-thematically-true-to-the-source retelling of Gawain and the Green Knight. And that would have been a much better movie! What are we to make of this, a movie that purports to be telling a story-behind-the-story, but one that leaves no room or context for the original? After all, Gawain in the end does *not* flee, does not return home a coward and a liar; presumably, he earns his honor, and can be honest about what happened. But if he is honest, none of the rest of what we have been shown makes a lick of sense, or has any point.

One feels a bit as if modern directors, when confronted with medieval texts being a bit weird, a bit alien in their worldview, instead of realizing that's actually something people like some of from time to time, feel like they have to construct an artificial bridge between the Middle Ages and the present day. But because it is invariably metafictional and self-referential, as if to say "don't worry, we know nobody REALLY wants to watch a bunch of boring medieval shit played straight," it comes off as cringing and ashamed of its source material. This isn't a plea for historicity! Gawain and the Green Knight is not history. But one does occasionally want to see an adaptation of one's favorite works without directors being ashamed of the text they are adapting! And since most people will not have read the original, I am rather confused about what the director intends for the audience to get out of all these references that are dependent on it, but don't stand on their own merits within the narrative of the movie itself.

The acting was good, the set design and costumes were terrific, I loved the slow and measured pacing and the weird score, and the design of the Knight himself, and the landscapes and almost everything else about the movie. So I don't think it's a waste of time, especially if you have read and enjoyed Gawain and the Green Knight, in the original or in translation. But it's definitely a pity to see a movie that was, well, *almost* great, but ended up merely OK.

#gotta put that undergraduate degree to work from time to time #we spent a *lot* of time on this poem

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blacksunscorpio · 4 years

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What does it mean when I have a Capricorn signature?

Signature Sign In Astrology

You might have heard the term signature sign thrown around if you’ve been studying astrology for a while. Others of you might not have heard if this concept at all. It isn’t as well-known, however, it can reveal significant information about you.

What it Means

To put it plainly, the astrological signature sign is the zodiac sign that’s the most specific to you and your character.

How to find it

It involves noting which element and quality/modality appear the most or has the most signs and then combining them into a zodiac sign which is taken to be the signature sign of the chart. It will be easy to do because certain characteristics of signs will repeat themselves. It’s the most frequent modality and element in your natal chart.

Ex. 1 A person has more fire signs than any other element, and more fixed signs than any other quality, then that person's signature is Leo. In some cases, there is no clear majority in either element or quality to give a clear signature. When this occurs, an individual has an Ambiguous Signature.

Ex. 2 Let’s say you are a Taurus Sun, a fixed earth sign. But many planets in mutable signs take up residence in your chart. In addition, you have a multitude of planets in water. This makes you feel like a Neptunian/Pisces, which is a mutable water sign. You might not have many or any for that matter significant placements in Pisces but somehow still identify with the qualities of the sign to a great extent.

How To Find It Cont.

You weigh the elements and modalities of the sign where a planet is located in your chart. Begin with the Sun, next Moon and repeat this process for all the planets in your natal chart: Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. The ascendant and the Midheaven also have to be considered.

Signature Signs Through The Zodiac

Aries signature

If Aries is your signature sign, you are ambitious and have a strong will. Boss-like. Warrior. Killer instinct. Can sometimes be hot-headed and impulsive, it happens that you act before you think instead of the other way around which can get you into serious trouble. Don’t be Oberyn from GoT and get cocky now. However, you’re a born leader and like to initiate things. Taking action is your second nature. No one will ever pull the Hermit card or 4 of cups for you in a Tarot reading. Way too active. A straightforward sign, which sometimes blends into bluntness, bossiness, or take-no-prisoners attitude. Being independent is very important to you. You hate being told what to do. You like to work alone if you can. Competitive and brave, someone who loves new challenges. You love to win. Will always be after new opportunities to conquer.

Taurus signature

If Taurus is your astrological signature sign, you prefer to think before you act. Need a lot of time to make a decision, but once it’s done, nothing can make you change your mind. You are incredibly stubborn and persistent. Taurus is the sign of hedonism. If this is your signature sign in astrology, you know how to enjoy life. You appreciate good food, beautiful clothes, and everything luxurious. Taurus craves stability, both financially and emotionally. You are dependable and passionate. Love to cook and or shop for expensive and good quality things. Can be jealous in love or possessive as well. Bullheaded to the point of no return but just as ambitious when it comes to cultivating stability and wealth.

Gemini signature

If Gemini is your signature sign, you are curious, witty, and chatty. You are a great observant, someone who notices every detail, and then make a pun about it. Gemini is incredibly smart. They love to read and write, and they are usually talented when it comes to expressing themselves. However, Gemini because of their mercurial flighty nature can lack focus if they don’t reign it in somehow. This flightiness can give others the impression that they are sometimes superficial. You get bored veryyy quickly. Because of this, you need a lot of mental stimulation. Geminis are life-long learners, they are simply in love with knowledge. Need to be sure to keep that devil and angel [your twins] aligned so as to not make enemies or be seen as two-faced.

Cancer signature

If Cancer is your signature sign in astrology, you are a gentle soul. However, you become easily overwhelmed with others. Cancer is a crab and will retreat into its shell if it’s not in the mood to deal. Can be moody and or need a lot of time on your own, in the safety of your home. They like to be surrounded by family members. You are soft and caring. HIGHKEY intuitive and can sense the emotions of others easily [especially when developed.] They are extremely protective of their loved ones. Will pinch you with their claws if you mess with them or someone they care about.

Leo signature

If your signature sign is Leo, you have a big heart. Quite warm and sincere. Famous for its generosity. They, like Jupiterians like to give- especially in terms of love and affection. Leos need luxury around them. They are the royalty of the zodiac, right? They enjoy being around others, making people laugh and cheering them up. Have lots of energy but a big ego to go with it. They love attention and might court it often or simply get it naturally since the Sun is in the mix here. Too much of the negative manifestation of Leo can make one prone to arrogance, bossiness, and boastfulness. It’s important to realize that this wounds people around you. If you show others your soft side, they will give you all the love you crave.

Virgo signature

If Virgo is your signature sign, you are modest, effective, and helpful. Deeply analytical and process information at the drop of a hat. Productivity is very important to you. Virgos have a high attention to detail, and they solve problems by analyzing them. Rational and cerebral thinking is one of your greatest strengths. Quite reliable and have a strong sense of duty. Can be hyper-critical and a bit too compulsive in their tendencies. Prone to nervousness and anxious habits. However, this sign has a very powerful brain. They prefer thinking over feeling, which can be sometimes challenging for them.

Libra signature

If your signature sign is Libra, you’ll be quite elegant. Venusian, baby. No matter what they do, they’ll make sure to do it with their face on and in their best attire. Libras are graceful and charming. They have great social skills, and they get along with everyone. However, sometimes they don’t stand up for themselves even when they should or because they wish to avoid conflict at all costs. They can also be a bit superficial which might be perceived as “fake” by some. There’s a deep need to be liked. Quite good taste though. Keen artistic talents. Great diplomats and would do well as an ambassador or even in HR [actually, please think about getting into Human Resources, there are way too many pieces of shit in this particular department]. This sign strives to create harmony, both visually and in interpersonal relationships.

Scorpio signature

If your signature sign is Scorpio, you possess the qualities of Pluto. You have a deep mind, are intense and probing with perhaps a bit of a mysterious aura. You make a perfect detective. Nothing stays hidden. Quite loyal and passionate with intense emotions. Intuition is superb, but you are very sensitive at the same time. Scorpio can become obsessed with the object of their love. May be prone to jealousy in love or be quite ruthless and vengeful if slighted. It’s important NOT to get on this person’s bad side because Scorpios rarely [if ever] forgive. Is probably very sexual or unmatched in bed. Might end up rich [Pluto=wealth]. Might become a Mafia-boss. Might become a dictator. Might run a funeral home. Depends, lol.

Sagittarius signature

Expansion. Jupiter rules this sign and as a result one with this signature loves new experiences that aid them in understanding the world better. Optimistic and with a great sense of humor, people love being around them. They have high energy levels and they are always on the go. If your signature sign is Sagittarius, you have an unshakable faith in the universe. Philosophical prowess and an open mind with a streak of jolliness The sign of philosophy, and always looking towards the bright side. Might be blunt, unattached, and a bit dramatic or louder than most, however, lucky breaks might come often or in the nick of time. Makes sense since Jupiter rules luck.

Capricorn signature

If Capricorn is your signature sign, there are significant earthy vibes to you, no matter your actual sign. Said native is reliable, efficient, and incredibly meticulous, and high-key ambitious. There’s a great need for success that borderlines on obsession. They are empowered by executive achievements and accomplishments. Order, structure, and discipline are paramount. Capricorns are famous in astrology for being known as hard workers who put a lot of effort into achieving their goals. They do not give up. They will climb the ladder, do or die. Typically will be quite successful in life. Often accused of being cold or cruel. Hell, they might be. Still, they are in need and are deserving of love and commitment. Reliable in a relationship once they decide to stop restricting themselves of affection and give in.

Aquarius signature

Unique and eccentric, you always notice it when you meet an Aquarian. If Aquarius is your signature sign, you prefer to live life on your own terms. Freedom is your most important value in life. You enjoy being around like-minded people, even though your relationships are usually not of an emotional nature. Aquarius is the sign of brilliance in astrology. I always say that Aquarians have the highest levels of analytical intelligence but sometimes get written off because they can be weirdos lol. Mad scientist vibes. Wonderful ideas, fascinated by everything new and modern. Tech geeks. Aquarius is also the sign of humanitarian ideals. If you have this sign strong in your chart, you have a strong sense of justice.

Pisces signature

If Pisces is your signature sign, you have a very strong intuition. Quite sensitive to the point that all that white noise can easily overwhelm them. Hard to make out reality sometimes. Hence, Pisces needs to spend a lot of time alone in suspension thinking about things. Compassionate and have a strong sympathy for those suffering. Great healing abilities and an even greater imagination and creative streak. Probably feels quite good around water and can have a psychic knack with animals. Can be very musical and often have strong artistic talents. Be sure to tether yourself to this world so as to not float off. Escapism is okay but don’t escape reality too much. You may have come from another realm but in this incarnation, you were placed here for a reason. You belong here on earth with us ;).

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madsdefencesquad · 3 years

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The semi-companion piece to Kevin's one and it's all about Mads, of course. Dedicated to Kevison Nation (every single fudging one of you) and to @flythesail and @penny259 (your comments have me weeping haha 😚). Also on ao3.

A little into Madison Pearson by x (with additions) Summer 2026

I first met Madison Pearson a year ago at George Clooney’s 65th birthday celebrations in Perthshire, Scotland in a fashion closer to that of long-travelled friends who haven’t seen each other in years than that of complete strangers who just so happened to enjoy the same foodie indulgence (bacon-wrapped dates, anyone?). Despite the grandeur of the guests present at the lavish affair – politicians, laureates, philanthropists and A-list celebrities (including her own husband actor Kevin Pearson) – Madison Pearson had the kind of invigorating energy that just drew absolutely anyone in.

Perhaps it was the enchanting mix of contained excitement and understated class she exuded that will warm you upon beholding up close, or perhaps it was the charm of a more loquacious woman of California mixed with the rare intelligence of a world-traveller. Either way, despite the taxing social waltz her husband took her throughout the night bumping elbows with the elites, Madison was one of those people who truly left a lasting impression.

Squeezed next to her in the back of a cab, Madison is head-to-toe in Temperley London x Axel Arigato (vintage-inspired nautical jumpsuit and platform suedes) en route to a baking class where her five-year-old twins Nick and Franny are waiting for her to join them along with their father.

“I was supposed to get changed,” she says, lamenting on her attire worn for a meeting with some West Chester development executives that’s perhaps too luxurious for an afternoon of mixing flour and butter and sugar. “But you have to make at least a bit of an impression, right?”

Madison has been the powerhouse head honcho of the Pearson family business, Big Three Homes, since its establishment three years prior. With a solid background in business management and a surefooted ability to navigate the mores of an ever-changing property development landscape, it was no question that Madison would rise up to the challenge of breaking into the market with a business model founded on family, philanthropy and sustainability.

Despite growing up largely independent without people close enough to call family, Madison has also found the means to speak about her experiences in an effort to encourage and give hope to the younger generation of girls and young women who may be going through an ongoing battle between themselves and their self-worth.

“I never felt enough,” she says of the origins of her battle with her eating disorder that began when she was still in middle school. “I look at Franny and she’s so small and carefree and I want to give her everything I never had, but I know that even that won’t be enough unless she herself realises how worthy she is of all the good and all the love that she deserves.”

We pull up outside the baking studio and she brightens at spotting her husband and twins’ silhouettes behind the frosted glass windows. Nick and Franny almost topple over their stools as they rush to overwhelm their mother while their father scrambles to keep his heart rate down—a close call with their foreheads hitting the edge of the marble benches as they got down will just about do it.

Even with her petite frame, Madison carries the twins like she’s just holding a bag of groceries. Unsurprisingly, both Nick and Franny are as enamoured of their mother as she is of them and are on the verge of complaining when put down just as Kevin, grinning ear to ear, envelops Madison in his huge arms—to be fair, he’s always been quite remarkably chiselled but the Tom Ford sweater and those tailored jeans (chosen by his wife “of course” as Kevin credits) is a different level altogether. He leans down to give her a kiss.

Back in Perthshire a year ago at the Clooney extravaganza, I caught up with the married couple the day after the festivities over a traditional Scottish breakfast as we overlooked the highlands of the Gleneagles.

Perhaps unlike the Clooneys, who were still entertaining their guests from all over world, the Pearsons were much more relaxed within their own family bubble. Having just celebrated Kevin’s twin sister’s wedding three days prior with close family and friends, the pair was grateful to spend some quality time with each other and their twins without the need to be anything but present.

From my perch, Kevin and Madison were the kind of couple that were very much “old souls”. They held an affection for each other that is rooted from sincere fondness and adoration for each other—they converse like deep friends and trade wits like secret lovers. And despite the media attention of the adorable moments shared online (often by the social-savvy actor), Madison is uncompromising when it comes to the privacy of their children.

While the twins dipped in and out of the table pilfering scones or taking over their mother’s green juice, neither one of their parents were the least bit bothered by the constant attention they need to provide such a rumbunctious pair.

“They’re so funny,” Kevin said, a careful eye on little Nick who was staring at the whipped cream on his tiny finger like he was contemplating on wiping it on his dad’s face.

I do recall having a good laugh when I accompanied the family on a tour of a nearby 17th century castle and little Franny, a copy-and-paste of her mother, pointed at a wood-cut table decoration of what looked to be intertwined lovers and confidently yelled, “That’s mommy and daddy!”

The fierce mama bear of the Pearson household of four (Madison sometimes calls her husband “kid number three, but don’t tell him that or he’ll get ideas of trying for another!”), remarks that forging her own path away from her husband’s spotlight had been remarkably easy, and she gives much of the credit to the rest of the Pearson clan who all treasure family more than anything.

Even with the notoriety of her brother-in-law, rising political star Randall Pearson, who currently serves in the Philadelphia municipality and is on track for a career in congress, Madison says that quality time to rest and recuperate is a must.

“[My sisters-in-law] and I have a girls weekend every other month when we can where we literally book ourselves a gorgeous Airbnb and just glamp down. I’m talking sleep-ins, endless mimosas, spa sessions… you name it! It’s the kind of getaway that [our husbands] get really jealous for.”

And upon being reminded, Kevin, now sporting Franny’s tiny chef’s hat, shakes his head at his wife conspicuously as if in reprimand that he most definitely should be included in the gals’ next glamping session despite him being, well, not a gal.

While Nick proudly counts five of about a thousand sprinkles that are scattered on his side of the bench, Madison congratulates him with a warmth and pride that is infectious enough to make you think that she’s proud of you too. And despite her husband’s very obvious possessiveness over her—you could count only one occasion where the actor is not at arm’s length from her—when Madison focuses her attention on you, it’s not difficult to believe that this powerhouse woman could truly do absolutely anything.

“She is that and more,” Kevin says about his wife. “Sometimes I can’t believe that this is my life. Our life! Like, she’s mywife, and these two are our kids. It’s just wild! I’m grateful, just grateful.”

Despite the doubts and fear that had been Madison’s constant companions for most of her life and especially going into adulthood, there is a fierce resilience in her that she could only credit her dear grandmother Frances—her own daughter having been named after her.

“She always believed in me,” she recalls, an eye on the twins squatting by the oven watching their creations rise. Despite the deep grief and loss that are quite intimately shared by the married couple, Madison says that it has only made them more resolute in loving their children and each other as best as they possible can every day.

“You just don’t know when it’s your time,” she says. “So, Kev and I make sure that there are no ‘next times’ when it comes to our family.”

When I had asked Madison about Big Three Homes back in Scotland, she squealed at the origin story of its founding, which started with Kevin’s late father Jack Pearson having asked his wife Rebecca to start the business together as partners.

Although Jack’s tragic and unexpected passing put an indefinite hold to this dream, its fulfilment through his son Kevin and through Madison is a testament to the kind of legacy that Jack Pearson had begun through his kids.

“I mean, it started off as more of a passion project for Kev,” Madison says. “But we knew it was always going to be something really special. Especially because his first project was the house that Jack had wanted to build for his mom. And when Kevin had this wonderful idea of bringing the family together to start the business and he asked me to be a part of it, how could I have said no!”

Kevin makes a point to say though that even if the idea of Big Three Homes originally came from his parents, its fulfilment is as much a part of his and Madison’s own story as it is his parents’. And choosing to have Madison work alongside him wasn’t just the best choice (given how much of a boss she is), but it was the only choice he ever wanted or considered.

“I know this is cliché, but I can’t stand not being with her,” Kevin says. “I made a point of this when our twins were born, and I meant it!”

Madison and the family split their time between California and Pennsylvania both for Kevin’s work and for the business, but nowadays, it’s more of an 80-20 split in favour of the east coast.

When asked about a career path carved away from her hometown in California, Madison says fondly, “It surprises a lot of people when I say this but I’m actually an east coast girl.”

This fun fact translates quite well in Madison’s day to day. She could turn any conversation into an erudite discussion, and she will utterly beguile you with her knowledge of books and literature—her constant companions when she can sneak away to her own personal Taj Mahal, a stunning Japanese garden in the backyard of their Pennsylvania home which Kevin built especially for her.

As the Pearsons continue to make a splash in the world of construction, politics, arts and entertainment—a rare mix indeed for a family in the spotlight—Madison is determined to continue writing a story with her husband and her children that she never had growing up.

With the twins happily destroying their creations by the mouthfuls, Madison promises that another visit is a must and perhaps this time, she can show us a collection of Kevin’s baby photos coupled with her own personal commentary to boot.

And who would say no to that.

#kevison #kadison #kevin and madison #still not over that kadison tag but loving it coz yes to more madison yeeeeee #I tried to not let Kevin get away with being gushy but he keeps taking over!!#lezbereal he's in too deep we get it boyy #I need to do a combined one because Uncle Nicky and some of the fam has to feature am I roighttttt #anywhoo hope y'all enjoy this <3 #this is us #tiu #kevison fanfics #kevison fanfic #tiu spoilers #I know most of the deets won't be canon after season 6 but whatever I do what I want #kevin pearson #madison this is us #madison pearson

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catflowerqueen · 2 years

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Now that BoL knows civilization is relatively close by, I’m trying to think up reasons--beyond Cassie’s bees liking to make things difficult for people in general, since they do actually like Robbie now--for why he does not make more of an effort to get Robbie back to civilization before winter hits and they get stuck there because it is way to dangerous for a five-year-old to try and traverse a wintry forest... and I think I’ve come up with a more or less legitimate reason? That is also kind of sad, but plausible given what we found out about Loboto, among other things.

Essentially, it’s kind of a combination of a few things. One part is him deciding to slow down and relax a bit after the arguments and realizations in chapter 3--namely that Robbie is still a kid and needs time to relax and be a kid, as well as the fact that he physically cannot travel very far right now (and a later realization that he did not plan things out that well, because it would be dangerous for Robbie to try and camp out in the woods at night when they don’t know--speculations of dinosaurs still existing aside--whether or not there are large predators in the woods.

Another part is remembering that adage about staying put when you are lost. Now he knows people are nearby, and Robbie is so sweet and charming and has memories of love and comfort that surely there must be someone looking for him... right? But since the kid did move around a lot that first day, and then it started raining very shortly afterwards, it’s just taking some time for the rescue party to arrive.

(And he would be totally correct about this, if not for the fact that the Aquatos are still operating under the assumption that Raz would be too scared of large sources of water/psychics to go near them, so aren’t looking in the right direction... in addition to the fact that when the Motherlobe received a bunch of “Missing Child” posters in the mail, mailman “Nick” immediately tossed most of them out in the hopes that he could somehow ruin their reputation by bringing up the fact that a child apparently went missing nearby but the psychonauts never even bothered to look for them.

In addition to the fact that there are specific protections in place at the Gulch that confuse people and make them forget what they’re doing if they try going into the woods without a guide--which BoL of course cannot remember being there, assuming they weren’t new additions after the fact when the Motherlobe started being built. So even if people were looking in the right direction, unless one of the remaining Psychic Six, or possibly Truman, was made aware of the search, no one would be able to go there--and they themselves might assume that the protections would have been enough to dissuade the five-year-old from going in that direction in the first place, unaware that the things he was using as a guide either weren’t so easily fooled--like the water in the river or his own sense of hunger making him just walk kind of mindlessly anyways, or him literally not paying attention to his surroundings because he was too focused on the music BoL was making that first night)

The third part--which sometimes leads him to try and make some shorter expeditions now and then, while other times it has him buckling down on making the Gulch more habitable long term--is that he is a little bit wary of the circumstances which led to Robbie being in the Gulch in the first place. From what he gathered last chapter, Robbie thinks there was some sort of accident, but can’t actually be sure. And they will probably come across the actual site he woke up in back in the first story. Thing is... for all that Robbie obviously did have someone who offered him comfort... BoL remembers how Robbie was initially terrified at the prospect of psychic powers, and of being psychic himself, and how a kid wouldn’t come up with that idea on his own.

And considering the way Loboto’s parents treated him... as well as some implications given by Counterfeiter Cassie’s story...

I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be too out of the question for BoL to assume that Robbie’s “accident” wasn’t a deliberate attempt to get rid of him--whether through directly pushing him off of whatever he fell off of to land in the river, or by just abandoning him and then Robbie having an accident because he was wandering around on his own and wasn’t paying enough attention.

That is obviously NOT what happened... but that’s the sort of doubt that’s going to secretly creep in the longer it takes for actual help to arrive.

...In addition to the fact that Cassie is going to somewhat accidentally feed into those fears once she figures out the two of them are there and lets slip some things about there being some very mixed feelings about hydrokinetic powers out there. Her worry is more that someone might try and take advantage of Robbie the way they did Lucy if they bring him back to civilization before he has more training and control of his powers... but BoL is going to think back on his old fear and wonder if the hydrokinesis is the specific reason why Robbie was abandoned/why no one came looking for him.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #have brain will parent #spoilers

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razorblade180 · 3 years

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Twin Snowflakes part 25: Date Night pt2

Atlas, city of dreams. It was a name post people overlooked and even more scoffed at. Still, it was a little hard not to believe the title from the way it looked; especially with the hundreds of lights illuminating the snow covered city. Veronica was no stranger to Atlas at night but she still couldn’t help but marvel at the sights passing by her window. They were almost as charming as the boy sitting next to her in the backseat, almost. Her mind still couldn’t believe this was happening. Veronica was going on a dinner date with Nick. How did that happen!? Well...she knew how it happened but it was still crazy! The situation wasn’t ideal but Veronica wasn’t exactly upset about it. Not in the way she had shown earlier. Veronica simply wished this event happened as a result of her efforts more than Valerie’s mistakes. Then again, all’s fair in love and war. If Valerie was going to be childish enough to hurt Nick, then that was all the more reason for Veronica not to pull her punches in winning him over. Not that she ever did, for the most part.

She looked over at Nick to see him sinking into his seat, eyes closed and body relaxed. “He must be more exhausted than he let on. She thought, listening to his breathing. He must’ve sensed Veronica’s gaze on him because his eyes opened seconds later. He caught the girl off guard by turning to her and smiling gently.

“Something on my face?” He asked.

His voice was a little deeper than before because of his short rest. The change made Veronica a little timid. “Uhh no. Hehe, your face is fine!” She uttered terribly. A snicker from Winter upfront made Veronica turn a little red. Her ears fell down as she realized how dumb that sounded. “I mean there’s nothing on it. That’s what I…yeah.” She really wanted to stop talking.

Nick sat up straight and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry I drifted a bit. I took a nap when I got home but I guess I was a little more spent than I realized.”

“No worries. A smooth ride puts me to sleep all the time. If you don’t mind me asking, where did you go? Back at the manor your mom said you went to go talk to someone?”

“Oh, that…” he looked in the rear view mirror to look at Winter, who looked back at with a smile.

“The lady asked you a question. Don’t mind me. It honestly isn’t as big of a deal as you think Nicholas. No need to tiptoe around it with your mother, uncle, and I. We’re adults after all.”

“I know. I just...I don’t know, feel a little guilty if I wasn’t careful about it.”

“You are just fine.” Winter reassured him. “To answer your question Veronica, Nicholas likes to visit his grandparents' graves to pay respects and ponder.”

Her ears perked up. This was news to her. Well, not entirely. She had known Nick liked to pray. He’s done it for as long as she could remember. Anytime things were rough or really important, Nicholas could be found giving a small payer. It was only later did she put together that the habit must’ve been formed during his sister’s time in the hospital. Though not religious in the slightest, Veronica could understand praying in a situation like that, but for his grandparents…?

“That’s a little strange, considering you never met either and one of them wasn’t exactly…” She wanted to pick her words carefully but it was hard not to call Jacques a piece of shit. “Let’s just call your grandfather a not so good influence.”

“Heh, that’s certainly putting it lightly.” Nick chuckled, “I guess I do it because...I’m a hit afraid. For me, I can’t imagine anything worse than passing away and the people left behind, the world, it just forgets about you; as if you had no impact on life. I wouldn’t wish that fate on even my enemies. Also, my grandfather’s wrongdoings in a weird way made my mom the person she’d be to have me and Summer.” He smiled at his own weird logic. “Gotta at least be thankful for that, right?”

His reasonings were flawed in some manner but completely understandable to Veronica. “Same rules apply to your grandmother?”

“More or less. I know it’s a little odd.”

“Yeah but it’s also very much a thing you’d do. Always trying to bring someone peace, it’s like your day job at this point.”

Nick shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

Winter began pulling over to the curbside, finally reaching their destination. A well known set down restaurant called Blended, known for its many different cuisines that specialized in ingredients that involved purée styled cooking; hence the name. Winter watched Nick get out of the car to escort Veronica, only for the girl to playfully roll her eyes as she got out of the car by herself.

“Well at least she’s consistent with her spunky attitude.” Winter thought, actually approving of the act. “You two be safe. Nick, don’t give your mother a heart attack.”

“How would I? This is just dinner, not a battlefield.”

“Knowing you, anything could happen.” She gave a little smirk before leaving them to ponder that diss.

Nick was both flattered and insulted. “Anyways…” he held his arm out which Veronica happily grabbed. The two went off to make their reservation. Tonight was going to be nice. Like Nick said, it’s just dinner. What could happen? The inside of the restaurant blew Veronica away. Elegant marble tile, pearl white cloths over the table, mood lighting,crystal chandeliers scattered about like if they were as cheap as lightbulbs, and the most divine scents imaginable. They had only entered the front door and yet her nose could pick out an array of ingredients in the kitchen. Veronica hadn’t seen the menu but she already knew there was gonna be a steak in front of her before this night was over.

“You know my opinion of Atlas might actually go up depending on this food?”

Nick chuckled at her comment and went towards the counter where a blonde woman in a waitress outfit stood at the ready. “Hello. Schnee, reservation for two. The usual spot please.”

“Why of course Mr. Sch-” the waitresses eyes quickly caught attention to Nicholas’s plus one. “Umm, Mr.Schnee? You know we actually may have a table on the private upper level if you like?” She said with a smile, maintaining eye contact with him.

“No thank you. Too close to the smoking area. I’ll take my normal table, the one by the window.” He said calmly. Nick took a moment to look at her name tag. He hadn’t seen this one before. “Sophia, that’s a nice name.”

Worry crept up on the corners of the waitress’s smile. “If smoke is the issue then may I recommend-”

“Sophia.” He said again. “Is there a reason in particular that I can’t have my window seat?”

“Well...it’s...just….” she fidgeted her hands, doing her best to not look at Veronica and cause a scene. “.....Right this way sir.” Sophia grabbed two menus and quickly went to lead them before Veronica put a hand on the menus. “M-Ma’am?” She stuttered.

Veronica wanted a good look at her but the waitress would barely meet her eyes. All Veronica could get was a side glance and a worked up heartbeat. “Nick, what do you usually drink?”

“Uhhh apple cider?”

Veronica took the menus out of Sophia’s hands. “Cool. Sophia, he’ll have that and I’d like water. Seeing how it’s a usual spot we’re going, Nick could just lead me himself. Thank you. Nick, if you would?” Veronica said, grabbing his arm.

“Okaaaay?” Nick didn’t question her orders. He grabbed the menus from her and walked through the restaurant. It was past the time most ate, but several clanging plates nearby told him there were a few late customers; about three people every five tables or so. Seeing them was easy even with dim lighting, but that also meant they saw him. A few looked up before continuing their meals while others stared for a couple seconds, forcing him to awkwardly wave as he went by.

“Sorry, usually it’s emptier by now. I come at this time to avoid drawing attention of people who always got a thing or too to say about the Schnees”

“Or the company they keep…” Veronica added. Their table was on the right side a little more than half way towards the back, right next to a window that showed the snowy streets and dazzling lights. A real winter wonderland sight. No wonder Nick liked this spot. She finally sat down. “By any chance do you know the owner of the restaurant?”

“Dyle, what about him?” He opened his menu and began reading.

“That waitress felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack. She really didn’t want us sitting here too. Care to guess why?” Veronica reached over and pressed the menu down with a finger, making sure that Nick saw her ears wiggle. “This is why I wanted a bow.”

“Point taken, but I remember saying screw anyway that has a problem with you. I’ve never known Dyle to have a problem with faunus by the way.”

“Was that because he showed that he didn’t or because you just weren’t paying attention?” Vee noticed the waitress walk over. Sophia once again avoided her gaze, in favor of Nick’s. She also made sure to place Veronica’s water on the table but handed the cider to Nick directly.

“Ready to order?” She asked.

Nick had noticed the treatment of the drinks and had been aware of the eye contact. He only wanted a little time to think about everything as a whole. He didn’t have Veronica’s hearing but he did notice the paleness of her skin. “Are you well?”

“H-Huh?”

“You’re pale. Sick, or spooked by anything?”

“Oh, I’m fine…” The woman fidgeted. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Sophia quickly left the table.

At the same time, Veronica took a sip of Nick’s cider. “Well at least this place has good drinks. Be sure to ask for a second. I’d ask myself but you know, playing things safe around our jumpy friend.”

“Yeah….” Nick flipped through another page. “So there’s either one of two things happening right now. One, our waitress is scared of you, or-”

“A certain somebody wouldn’t want her serving us. Me, is what I should actually say. Gee, I wonder who?”

Nick couldn’t deny this was odd. “Again, point taken. However, it would be weird how many times Dyle has served my family, who actively promotes faunus rights. We’ve held meetings with your mother here before and other faunus.”

Vee always loved Nick’s simple logic, but boy was it not doing him any favors tonight. “Lesson time, my dear knight. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt of you not thinking critically with how tired you are at the moment.” Vee propped her arm on the table and rested her head in her palm. “We aren’t our parents. We’re just their brats. Adults know better than to pick on the pups when they’re around their source of income. Also, how many of those meetings were in perfect view from the street?”

Nick paused for a moment, then looked at the view. “.....None.” He closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself. “They’re up top and away from prying eyes.

“Out of sight, out of mind. Out of the way of any potential customers who may think twice of entering. Translation, private seating is a sweet way of saying it’s embarrassing to have you front and center.”

“Veronica, I didn’t-”

“Mr. Schnee!” A jolly voice called.

The teens looked to the side to see a husky redheaded man in a chef’s uniform and a hat as big as his handlebar mustache.

“Dyle.” Nick said, noticing Sophia turning ghost white a few feet behind him.

“How is the young heir on this fine night!? Craving our pastries again I bet! Oh ho ho ho!” The man patted his stomach at his one witty remark. His olive colored eyes shifted to Veronica. “My, my, where are my manners!? I’m Head Chef Dyle! Clearly Nicholas forgot his manners too for not introducing his partner in crime this lovely night. Though I guess there’s little need whenever you have credibility among the higher class? That and those lilac eyes, I’ve served a few times in the form of one fiery huntress who loves my steak! I assume your-”

“Yes, I’m her kid. To what do we owe the pleasure of the head chef himself coming to greet us?” Veronica said, hiding her attitude with fake jolliness.

“One of my little worker bees had told me one of my favorite customers was here yet again. Imagine my surprise to see him without his typical plus one. I tell you, that Valerie sure can eat until I feel a hole in my wallet! Ho! Ho! Ha! I crack myself up. Have you met her.”

“Occasionally. Sports art my thing. More of a cooking contest watcher myself. When I realized I get to try your steak I nearly jumped for joy!”

“Why thank you! Nicholas my boy, you sure bring a surprise each and every time, but you should know better. A table in the back near this drafty window at this time of year, and at night! Up your game. I’d be more than happy to let you two enjoy the comfiest seat in the building. Nothing sets the tone like the second floor. I can get you a private table right this second!”

If that wasn’t a slap in the face, then Nick didn’t know what was. Has this really gone over his head? Nick wanted to believe this was a classic case of misunderstanding, yet that felt inn accurate the longer Veronica looked at him. There was no anger, only a reserved look that poorly hid the fact she was uncomfortable. Nick stopped feeling sorry for himself, choosing to do what his family did best; put on the face that commanded respect. The face of Atlas’s most powerful family.

“Dyle?” Nick spoke, dragging out the chef’s name like a sigh of boredom. Nick focused one the menu in his hands while giving the man an occasional glance with only his eyes. “Do you know why I come here? I’ll give you a hint.” He tapped on the window.

“The...view-”

“Nope.” Nick said firmly, closing his menu. “It’s the view and the respect I believed this place had for its customers. All of its customers, but tonight is making me think I believed wrong. You’ve never been this insistent whenever Valerie and I ate here. I gotta say I’m a bit concerned. Between your behavior and our waitress, I can’t help but feel like this has everything to do with my lovely date and her perfect features.”

“Perfect.” Veronica thought, bashfully folding her ears.

“Dyle, am I correct to reevaluate my beliefs in this restaurant. No lying now. I want your honest answer.”

The jolly man wasn’t feeling so jolly anymore. Dyle’s smile turned into grimace teeth and panicked eyes. “N-No! it’s just...just!” He looked around and through the window for any watchful eyes. “It’s business. Your family should understand th-”

“My family is no longer in the business of just caring about good business. Fail to understand that and you won’t have to worry about yours.” Nick stood up and finally looked at the giant of a man as best he could. He could see it, the resentment and frustration building within the chef. By all means who wouldn’t be upset when against a member of the most dangerous family name, blatantly throwing power around like if it actually earned. Nick understood the look. If Whitley taught him anything, it was that look does nothing but keep the hate alive. Flex power, but wield it generously.

“Dyle, I will choose to believe you are in fact a good man.”

“W-What?” He said, caught off guard by the tone shift.

“If this is strictly business then we’ll treat it like so. Now there isn’t any scenario where I don’t get what I want, but I’m more than happy to get what we all want. The first thing is you apologizing to Veronica. After that you will tell all your staff to refrain from enforcing whatever faunus rules you have given them; followed by creating the best steaks you can ever create for this table. Your work won’t be done though. I do expect a dessert that will blow our mind. It is only after creating such a grand meal with your hands that you can rest easy knowing that it will have a fairly generous contribution to its stability. Indefinitely.”

“You’re...going to invest here?”

Nick sat back down. “That depends on you. A pretty decent offer I’d say. Equality and a good meal in an exchange for financial stability. Is that good with you Veronica?”

“Hmmmm, I say we should sweeten our pot. An easy fix with an official change in this place's mission statement as a public service. One that states on paper that this restaurant is for all. This isn’t a compromise.”

Nick smiled. “You heard the lady. Is it a deal?”

Dyle stood, confused by the offer. By all means it was not expected or heard of. “So this is how a Schnee conducts business now?”

“This is how I do business.”

“Hmph! Then I guess it’s fortunate you have deep enough pockets to back it up.” The man removed his chef’s hat and bowed. “Please excuse my blatant disrespect, Mrs. Belladonna.”

“Apology not accepted, but a deal is a deal and who am I to not capitalize on it for my people? Just keep your end of the bargain and I’m satisfied.”

“Ma’am.” Dyle rose from his bow, swiftly exiting to the kitchen. Veronica took a sigh of relief. Finally the man was gone. Any longer and she would’ve said something worth being glared at.

“Sorry about all of this.” Nick said with a guilty look. “Didn’t expect this level of confrontation tonight. Here I was thinking I was taking you to a stress free spot in Atlas.”

“I don’t see why you’re apologizing. After all, you are the one who told me not to hide my ears. Screw what others think, remember?” Veronica gave him a comforting smile before getting another sip of his cider. “The occasional loudmouth or prejudiced jerk is nothing new. Still… thanks for sticking up for me. It’s usually me being the mouthpiece for others or myself. It’s nice not taking the lead.”

Nick propped his head up on his right hand “Glad to be of service.”

“I can see that. How’d you know the waitress was being forced and not racist herself?”

“I’ve never met my grandfather, but his handy work I’m too familiar with.” Nick said, staring out the window.

Veronica could tell she had walked onto a sensitive subject. Between him trying to avoid talking about the grave in front of his family, it was easy to understand what he meant. She wouldn’t press the issue any further. Now wasn’t the time to get heavy. “You know if you keep looking out the window like that, I might just faint from your handsomeness.”

Nick’s face turned red. He whipped his head around to see his date smirking at him. “Oh why you gotta tease me like that!? It’s embarrassing.”

Veronica could only giggle as the flustered boy did his best to hide his face. “That’s more like it. Just keep smiling for me. That’s all I need.”

xxxxx

While a dinner date had begun in the city, a house breakout had started half an hour later. Schnee Manor had gone quiet. Dinner had ended long ago and all adults had retired to their room. Summer couldn’t ask for more. The young huntress in training double checked her supplies before making the great escape. Black wig? check. Favorite pair of ripped jeans with a nice leather jacket; check and check. She put her guitar case on her back and looked in the mirror.

“And mom said no good would come from mentioning Bleiss? Well...I am sneaking out, so I guess she had a point.” Summer left her room and began carefully walking through the halls with her boots in hand. Can’t be too careful. Even the finest houses can creak. Thanks to Nick being out, the alarm wasn’t on. Escaping would be cake walk. All she had to do was pick an exit that wouldn’t be seen or heard. Pesky cameras and windows made that a bit more of a challenge.

“Mom and dad and probably still catching up with Blake and Yang, so I should probably leave through the-”

“Beautiful night for an escape.”

Summer whipped her head around to see Blake looking at her, arms folded and smiling. Summer’s face went pale. “Es-Escape!? Me!? No...I was just….”

Blake raised her eyebrow. “Just…?”

“Esssscaping- yeah I was escaping.” Summer held her head down in defeat. She really needed to get better under pressure. “How did you know?”

“I heard the sound of glyphs earlier when you said you were eating. Multiple glyphs, launching something outside and around the house. You know it might’ve been less suspicious if you decided to grab whatever you needed, and haul it back to your room normally? No way Yang or I would know if it’s out of the ordinary.”

“Hindsight isn’t always 20/20. Plus I like plans. This one appears to be a bust though.”

“Not exactly. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Blake winked.

Summer’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what? You’re okay with me sneaking out.”

“It won’t earn me any warm feelings with Weiss but it’s clear to everyone in and out of this house that you need an outlet. I do have some conditions however.”

Summer squinted. Now she knew where Veronica got her deal making skills from. “I’m listening.”

“First, cut your parents some slack and go to school every day until after the tournament. I heard you’ll fail otherwise.”

“Ugh, why does everyone want me to- okay, fine. I was planning on it anyway. Next one?”

“Please try and be Veronica’s friend.”

“I’m sorry, did you ask me the impossible?” Summer said, making Blake frown. “What!? It’s the truth. Friendship is a two way street and both lanes are closed.

“Listen, I know my daughter hasn’t been the nicest to you, and I know what I’m asking is completely selfish. However, I’m asking anyway. Maybe if she had actual friends to open up to, then things wouldn’t be so bad for her.” Blake sighed.

“Are you trying to tell me Mrs. Fashion designer with perfect skin doesn’t have a line of people trying to rub elbows with her?”

“Hehe, you’d be surprised… Besides, I figured you would know first hand people like that aren’t exactly friend material, Mrs. Teen Idol.”

Summer bit her lip. “Fair point, got me there.” She folded her arms and began tapping her foot. Blake meant well, but it really felt like she was asking Summer to move a mountain. Especially after the forest incident. “Really twisting my arm here.”

“Could you at least make a strong attempt? You both will be spending more time together after all.”

“Hmmm, fine.”

Blake squinted, “Strong attempt, Summer.”

“I heard you.” Summer turned her head away like the snooty rich girl regular folk saw her as. “Is that all?”

“One more thing.” Blake walked up to the young girl and placed her hands on Summer’s shoulders. “Never forget you’re not alone.”

“.....Yes ma’am. Thanks, I mean it.”

Blake rubbed Summer’s head. She’s grown since the last time they met, yet still oh so small. Not to mention a bit frail. Summer may have looked like her mother but Blake could see how much more gentle she was in comparison. Not that Weiss wasn’t a softie in her own right, but she also had an uncompromising defiance. Blake didn’t see that in Summer. Her defiance by all means could be compromised. With any luck and help, it wouldn’t be. “Okay, I’ve held you hostage long enough. Have fun and be safe. I’ll feel guilty otherwise.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be at my home away from home. If I don’t get lost in the music then I’ll definitely be back before midnight.”

“And if you do get lost in the music?”

“Make sure the bathroom window in the third hall downstairs is unlocked. Sneaking is easier at ground level. Bye now.”

Summer gave Blake a hug then rushed off out of sight. Blake couldn’t help but sigh. “Oh boy, maybe I’m the softie?”

xxxx

“Nick?”

“H-huh!?” The boy shook himself out of his daze. Veronica chewed another slice of steak while giving Nick a look of concern. Nick quickly tried to snap back to reality. “Something wrong with steak?”

“Oh something is definitely wrong, but not with the steak.” Veronica took a sip of her third cup of cider. “Maybe you can tell me what’s wrong? Nick you’ve been spacing out more and more ever since we got our entrees. Is a twin thing happening that I’m not aware of?”

“What? Oh, no, no it’s nothing like that. Sorry I’m just more out of it than I thought tonight.

Veronica nodded. “I see. Well… I guess that’s what happens when your crush hurts your feelings.” She watched Nick’s face turn from shock to guilt in no time at all. “You know it’s fine to talk about it right?”

“No it’s not. This is supposed to be a date and what kind of jerk complains about relationship stuff in front of somebody who has feelings for them? It’s not exactly dating etiquette.”

“Oh absolutely. Just thinking about another woman while there’s one in front of you is a real low blow. Frankly I am a bit bruised by it.”

“That’s why-” his words were silenced by the sweet taste of steak Veronica placed in his mouth.

“Let me finish while you chew on that, kay? Yeah my poor little pride is a bit bruised, but it’s not like I don’t already know where I stand when it comes to Valerie; much like how I know you’ve been doing well to try and set that aside. However, I’m here to tell you that’s flawed thinking. At least when you’re dealing with me. I’d much rather you talk about it with me than mentally check out whenever we’re together. So seeing how this dinner date is already far from conventional, let’s not beat around the bush a talk about the girl on your mind.”

Even though she was clearly being nice, Nick couldn’t help but feel like even more of a jerk! “It’s- it’s okay, really. We don’t have to make a big deal out of-”

“Ten minutes.”

“Huh?”

Veronica pulled out her scroll and set a timer. “It was your bright idea to have a ten minute unfiltered grace period between us. I’m calling in your ten minutes sucker. Deny it and I’ll never agree to doing it like you want.” She hit the timer. “Now spill your guts.”

His own system, used against him. Nick wasn’t sure if he should be happy Veronica remembered it, or upset. “Well played. Fine I’ll talk. Yes, Valerie has me lost in thought.”

“About what?”

“About a lot of things.”

“Nah uh, it’s something specific that has you upset. Might as well come clean now.”

“You’re really not gonna make this easy huh?”

“Nope! Tough love is tough, now speak.” Veronica smiled.

“Sigh, Val...made it seem like I was embarrassing to be around. That I stick my nose into everything. It’s not just her too. Summer said something similar to me butting in as well. The entire thing has been bugging me. Am I really that annoying to them?” Nick slouched in his chair. “Have been pushing them away?”

Veronica clicked her tongue. He opened up faster than she expected. “While I can’t speak much about you being embarrassing since I don’t think you are by any means; I can totally say you do make it your mission to be a helping hand in every situation. So yeah, you do butt in.”

The waitress came back and Veronica quickly gathered their dirty dishes to give to the actually nice woman. “All that being said, that’s nothing new Nick. You’ve always been like that. I’d say it’s actually one of your better qualities.”

“It is?” He said confused.

“Mmmhmm. I’ve never minded it at the very least. There’s a comfort in knowing there’s a helping hand in your corner. Plus it’s not like you blatantly ignore any request telling you to stop. You did give Valerie space when she asked for it after all. As for your sister, she’s all talk. I can tell just from reviewing footage and our short trip to the forest that Summer is quick to depend on you. If you ask me, she’s more annoyed at herself for that than she is at you.”

“I doubt it. They both gave me that same look of frustration. Especially Valerie. One minute she wants to be included whenever I’m in trouble but the next she’s telling me to take a hike. It’s pissing me off.” Nick rubbed his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. This entire thing felt like a complex math equation he didn’t know how to solve.

Veronica could tell by the look on his face how conflicted this made him. How conflicted Valerie made him. Needless to say, she was a bit envious. “Why do you love her so much?” She asked bluntly.

Nick’s face turned red. “Uhhh what?”

“I’m just trying to understand what makes her special. After all, Nicholas Schnee could have a girlfriend everyday of the week, yet he fawns over one. The same one since kindergarten. It can’t only because you’ve known each other for so long. What makes her special in your eyes?” Veronica knew she was practically asking to get hurt but she had to know. What was it that made Valerie different from her?

“D...Do I really have to answer that? It’s kinda sudden.”

“The clock has five more minutes on it and you have a girl willing to listen to gush over another girl. Money can’t buy you a scenario this sweet. Fess up.”

Nick took a long sip of his cider before taking an even longer breath. It would’ve been nice if he could do this for five minutes straight but that would be asking for too much. The only way out was through.

“It’s not the most complicated reason if you’re wondering. Growing up the way I have has had numerous blessings I won’t begin to look down on. Family, money, influence; all of that has been a joy. That being said, I didn’t really revel in being who I am as a Schnee until maybe four or five years ago. Everything I did or everywhere I went, a person would always watch what I would do. Nick is gonna go far. Oh he’s great at that, perhaps he’ll go pro? That sort of thing. Ice skating was just a hobby at first. I did it because it was relaxing and mom liked skating with me. I never paid attention if I was actually good at the moves I tried.”

“But...the people did?” Veronica asked, receiving a nod.

“I didn’t think much of it. I was only around seven perhaps? It actually made me happy. So what if a few people liked my routine? I was on the ice for fun and happened to win a medal. But then, as I kept on skating, a pressure started to form. More eyes started watching me. Waiting for the next medal, talking my skill up, muttering rumors about the contests I didn’t participate in, shaking their heads at my failures…they weren’t looking at me. Only my achievements and shortcomings. Ice skating stopped being fun, again. Mom was always quick to tell me to never pay them mind and eventually convinced me to take a break from it altogether. I could never skate again and she’d be perfectly fine with that.”

“Of course. She shared that with you as an outlet, not a sport. I think she knows better than anyone how cruel it is to make a child participate in performances just because they’re good at it.”

“Yeah, hehe, she really has the perfect playbook of what not to do with a child. It would be cool if it wasn't also sad. Anyways, the break was well needed. People eventually stopped talking and I skated in private. By then I’ve taken up some early combat stuff. Nothing serious. Fencing, a few things a bit more in the huntsman category but for more of sparring and building blocks of it all. Valerie had taken notice one day and got the biggest smile. Finally we can do some real horse playing! She shouted and cheered. Next thing I knew I was being driven to the gym with a hyperactive twelve year old who may have been a little too eager to hit her best friend.” He chuckled.

“And they say I’m feisty. So what? Did she hit you so hard you thought it was cool?” Veronica teased.

“N-Well it was cool, but that wasn’t the linchpin! We were having fun sparring. I was having fun. Learning how she did and showing me the ropes everyday was a blast, until one day I did something really cool I guess. Cool enough that people noticed; and kept noticing. People started talking again about what this might possibly mean for me and began watching my practices. I remember starting to feel the overwhelming stress build up again. It was frustrating thinking that this thing I do for me was about to be taken for the people again. I wanted to cry on the spot. Next thing I knew, Valerie had gotten on this platform to make herself taller and kindly told everyone that they were interrupting our training. To my surprise, they left. It only hit then that I’ve been so caught up in trying to avoid them or please, that I never once tried telling everyone to leave me alone. I asked Valerie how she could easily tell people that also expect so much from her to leave because they were in way. Why would I ever care about their input? I do what I want for me. They’re just along for the ride. S-”

BZZZ! BZZZ! BZZZ! Ten minutes had finally gone by. Veronica clicked her tongue. She reached to shut her alarm off when Nick reached for her scroll.

“It’s only right to finish a story this far in. Not much left anyways.” Nick shut the alarm off to continue. “As I was saying, Soon after that is when I began getting back into ice skating and really started participating for myself; figuring out my agenda in all things I did. Especially tournaments. That’s the gist of it. Like I said, silly.”

“No, I get. Valerie gave you back your enjoyment of your hobbies. Helped make a new lease on life. How could that not be a big deal? If anything it makes me irritated that you have such nice reasoning.” Veronica poked her lips out in a dramatically pouty way before turning head to the window. “Guess I should’ve figured as much. She did to you what you did for me. No wonder you like her. Still, I’m not phoning things in yet. Especially if those are the words she told you.” Veronica stopped herself from clenching the table cloth. “That hypocrite. Not caring about their input my ass…” Veronica let out a little chuckle. That was certainly informative. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“Yeah don’t thank me yet.” Nick put thirteen minutes on the timer and smiled. “I believe it’s your turn?”

Veronica’s pleased expression quickly turned to panic. “Wait, what!?”

“Why do you like me?” He asked without mercy. The flush on Vee’s cheeks was redder than wine. “Y-You can’t just ask a girl why they like you!”

“Oh but you can ask me about my romantic feelings without question.” Vee nodded shameless.

“Yep that pretty much sums it up. Besides it’s not like I asked about your feelings towards me. That’s embarrassing as hell.” Veronica watched Nick purse his lips and gave her a look that screamed “seriously?” It was enough to make her start combing her fingers through her hair and look at the coconut cream pie slice that the waitress somehow managed to put under her nose without detection. “I...specifics are bothersome to explain. Just understand that...Nick, you’ve…” she could feel her heart pound in her own ears. “You’ve given me a lot of strength, hope actually. In ways I can’t begin to explain. I’m grateful; dare I say blessed.”

Those words truly shocked him. It wasn’t everyday a term like that came from Vee’s lips. “Blessed huh? That’s a big deal coming from a nonbeliever like yourself.”

“And despite knowing that you still tell me how you pray for me. Not that I particularly mind that I’m in your thoughts regularly. Also it’s rude to just straight up say nonbeliever. I have beliefs. Now the feelings associated and to what the beliefs are is a different story. Thank you for the prayers nonetheless though.”

“Maybe one day you’ll pray for me, hehe.”

Veronica smirked. “I doubt any deity would heed the words. I’ll keep the praying business to the faithful.”

“Fair enough.” Nick took a scoop of ice cream off his fudge brownie and looked at the timer. “Seeing how you’re a bit resistant to tell me why you feel the way you do towards me, can you at least be frank with me by telling me why you’re so adamant about not getting along with Valerie or Summer?”

Very slumped over. “Of all the questions, you’re set on detective work?”

“This timer thing isn’t even meant for interrogation. I offered this as a way to vent without consequences but you’re the one who wanted to play twenty questions.” He finally took a bite of dessert. “Tough it out” He said, a warm smile on his face from the flavor.

“Sigh, guess I have no right to complain. I wouldn’t say I have any real personal grievances towards them, even though I have a few unpleasant memories of your sister harassing me when we were little.”

“We were five.”

“Well I was six and a hurt tail is still a hurt tail, but I digress. Those two, they’re not the kind of people I find myself liking very much. Summer always wraps individuals into her pity party by acting like she’s making a genuine effort, and then Valerie, sigh, there’s not a thing about her that doesn’t make me want to hit her. I know you like her and wouldn’t say she’s a bad natured person, but…” Veronica held her tongue before she overstepped. These were still Nick’s loved ones.

Nick on the other hand wasn’t satisfied. “Say it, what’s on your mind. Zero consequences remember?”

“You say that but it’s not like we’ll magically forget what we’ve said in this last twenty six minutes.”

“No, but I trust you won’t hold my words and secrets against me. Do you trust me? Good or bad, this is meant to clear the air. I’d be a hypocrite to not let you speak your mind after asking you to.” It was a bit brash but Nick reached for Vee’s hand and held it.

Veronica felt her own breathing slow down at the sight of Nick’s reassuring smile. Her eyes went to her pie to avoid his gaze. He was too disarming for his own good. It made her feel guilty for doubting, as well as relying on him the way she did.

“Valerie isn’t a good friend, not you and I, not your sister for that matter. Yeah she might help out because she’s a good person but she’s far too self centered in my opinion. I mean just take tonight for example. You’ve made plans with her that fell apart because everything you two do are on her own terms. What friend gets upset that another saved them in a training exercise, or uses a pet name that the other person doesn’t like!?”

Nick raised his eyebrow. “Pet name?”

“Summer hates to be called Princess, right? That could be a thing with me personally but with the way she gets so pissed about it I would think Valerie using it would be annoying. Yet she does it anyway. Like how she’s quick to try to act like she’s above something when she clearly isn’t. I-”

“Vee? My hand…” Nick winced, his hand being squeezed like a stress ball.”

“Crap…” Veronica immediately loosened up to look at it. Thankfully her nails didn’t dig into him but she did make his hand red. Veronica gently begins rubbing it in some pointless attempt to relieve the pain. “Sorry I… I shouldn’t lose my temper like that. Ugh I know better too. Maybe steak was a bad idea after all?”

Nick watched as Veronica became fixated on the light injury. Her ears had fallen down and the anger she had while speaking had vanished entirely. All she could do was rub his hand. “It’s fine, honest. I don’t even feel pain anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have felt pain at all. This is the second time I’ve hurt you.”

“Well...I did actively walk into a fight the first time. Faunus reasons or not, a person should expect to get whaled on a bit when breaking a fight up.”

Veronica knew Nick was trying to be nice and there was truth to his words. That still didn’t make her feel much better. “I guess there’s one thing Valerie and I have in common. We get you hurt for needless reasons that could be avoided.”

“Vee…”

“Hey, I know she makes you happy and I shouldn’t really try to persuade you to feel otherwise, but… I can’t help but feel like… if you were to ever allow it one day if you’ll look my way, because…Nick, I think I can make you even happier.” She gently held his hand with her trembling ones.

Nick couldn’t see her eyes but could see how the blush took over her. She wasn’t the only one. How could he not feel embarrassed when Veronica Belladonna, the most brazen girl he knew, was now currently holding his hand sheepishly while her tail swayed side to side. Thank goodness he had set a timer beforehand. The buzzer finally went off and Veronica snapped out of her trance, letting go. Rather than speak further, her pie became the scapegoat, getting devoured without interruption. Nick wanted to say something but even the work up to speaking made her face redder by the second. Besides, the timer hit zero. He had to respect the rules he made. A lot was learned within a short time.

“It’s been some time since we had a talk like that. Thanks, Veronica. I feel like I know you even better than before.”

“Just...eat your dessert, please?” She said, embarrassed beyond belief. How could she say something so compromising like that!? Claiming to make him happier than Valerie was bolder than she meant to be.

xxxx

The rest of dinner was pretty quiet. Both of them couldn’t think of any light topics to discuss after prying into feelings. It wasn’t awkward to speak but felt more, inappropriate, so to speak. Both desserts were finished and the chef had passed his taste test. Nick would keep his end of the bargain. However, the generous tip he usually left for all workers involved was purposely missing. The chef had lost the privilege entirely. The waitress would be in for a shock the next time she checked her savings. No need to punish those in the crossfire after all. Veronica and Nick left without saying a word to anybody.

The two of them walked down the sidewalk in the season's chill embrace. Veronica felt the chill winds creep down her thin dress. It felt colder than in the forest. Not even a single person or car was on the street! Nothing but an ever forming winter wonderland!

“Eugh! I know walking home was my idea but maybe I should’ve thought ahead?”

Nick chuckled. “Maybe so?” He took his dress coat off and draped it over her shoulders. “Better?”

“Yeah but you just got over being sick. You can’t afford to catch another cold.”

“Relax, I got sick because of stress. Temperatures like this are nothing to anybody who lives here. The cold is nothing in the face of a real Atlesian. It’s in our blood!”

“And central heating is in your budget. Speaking of which, shouldn’t that be on full blast in the winter!? I mean my goosebumps have goosebumps.” Veronica shivered.

Nick smiled. “I’m glad you asked!” He took Veronica’s hand and quickly rushed over to a building with an awning for them to be under. “There’s a reason I picked a reservation for today. It’s the night manual resets happen.”

“Manual resets?”

Nick nodded. “Yep! You’re right about it being super cold. The lack of people is a dead giveaway.”

“What’s up with that? I thought Atlas was a city that never slept? It’s like a ghost town now. Nothing but….actually…” Veronica looked around the streets, lamps, and every building. There were noticeable less lights. A far cry from the dazzling show she saw earlier through the window. “The heating system, it’s off.”

“Not entirely. A majority of buildings still have them on but yes, external heating vents get temporarily shut off and rebooted. It’s common in the winter since they have to run constantly. You didn’t think it was weird that it was snowing so steadily?”

“Now that you mention it, I guess it is. Everything was already covered in snow so I didn’t notice.”

“Most snow melts on contact but there’s no getting past it during the cold season. Heater or not heater, you’re gonna see snow fall.”

Veronica breathed on her hands to warm them up. “So why come out when the heaters are off if you can see snow whenever?”

“Because I’m not here for the snow. There’s only one thing Atlas gets to really witness whenever the heaters come back on, because the reboot forces the heaters to come back on at full blast.”

“What would-” Before she could finish, Veronica witnessed it first hand; the sudden burst of heat that washed over her body as the orange glow of heaters returned to pale white city. The previous atmospheric silence had been broken. Pit pat pit pat pit pat pit. The familiar brought Veronica’s attention to the streets. Right before eyes like magic, suddenly and seamless, the winter wonderland turned into rain. Lots of rain.

Any and all snowflakes melted before pitter pattering on the pavement. Rain was nothing new to her and neither was Atlas at night for that matter, but a rainy night lights in the city of Atlas? That was a different story entirely. It was if she was in a new kingdom altogether, the way the lights shimmered on the water in the air and on the ground. Atlas somehow went from looking like a snow globe, to a chandelier.

“Woah~” Veronica was floored. She extended her hand out. The feeling of frigid rain contrasted against the warm so much it made her jolt. “Ah! Man that has a bite to it!” She laughed.Veronica stepped out from the awning.

Nick, shocked by her actions, quickly grabbed her hand. “Hey, your dress!” He shouted with agency. Veronica did not bother with his words. Instead she pulled Nick into the rain with her as she laughed.

“Hahaha! What’s a little water!? I love the rain!! Between the heaters and a pour like this, I’d say this is more refreshing than the showers back home.” Veronica’s grin widened. She took hold of Nick’s hands and began swaying. “Come on, dance with me!”

Nick let himself get strung along into Vee’s antics. He caught her guard by pulling the two of them into a ballroom stance and began to waltz.

Veronica’s ears wiggled. “Oooo look at you Mr. Casanova, taking the lead like that.”

“You’re pretty upbeat for a cat in the rain.” He teased.

“Jokes on you, panthers love water, and people from Menagerie love the ocean. I do have a surfboard after all.” She leaned back to que Nick to support her back. Veronica dramatically stuck her leg out to do an over the top dip before Nick brought her back up, pulling her close.

“Nice moves.”

“You’re not the only one who has to learn etiquette. Gotta stay on my toes for the public too. Pretty easy with a tail for balance.”

Nick chuckled. He waltzed his cheeky date back over to the awning near a heater as she continued to laugh. “I could’ve sworn minutes ago you didn’t want me getting sick?”

“Well someone bragged about being one with the cold.”

“I didn’t say all that now. I’m surprised someone complaining about the cold gets excited to dance in the rain.”

“Yeah well…” Veronica moves even closer to Nick, until there’s virtually no space between them. “I feel pretty warm right now.” She said, looking up into his eyes. Maybe it was the heater, the cold rain, or the warmth from his arms now wrapping around her, but it made Veronica warm to the point of feeling dazed. It couldn’t just be her. Not when Nick’s face was its own shade of red. The two let the sound of rain surround them yet again. The smile Veronica had slowly shifted into an expression of longing. She was so close to him right now. Closer than she’s ever felt. His warmth, his cologne, his lips…; Veronica’s body couldn’t help but lean forward. Right...until…

Beep! beep! The sound of a car horn made both jump out of their skin. They looked to the street to see their waitress waving joyfully.

“Thanks for the tip!” She said emotionally as she drove off.

The surprise brought Veronica back to her senses to see Nick’s face flushed and embarrassed. As well as conflicted. Like how he was back at Penny’s lab. Veronica felt the weight of her actions hit her like a tank and quickly took a step back.

“Sorry! Silly me, hehe. Here I was telling you that I wouldn’t be too forward or force anything, then I pull this! Talk about embarrassing huh?!” There wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t want to find a hole to hide in. How could she get lost in emotion again!?

Nick frowned. “Ver-”

“It’s fine! Totally my bad.” She could feel her own heart start to race from her recklessness. “Tonight has been nice. We should probably start heading back before-”

Nick took Veronica’s arm and shut her up by kissing her cheek before wrapping his arms around her tightly. Her body went a little stiff before eventually hugging him back.

“No date is complete without a little intimacy, right.” Nick said, doing his best to kill the tension. “Sorry things got weird. I should’ve spoken up. It’s not like I would’ve been upset.” He admitted. “I just...you know. But I hope this is okay at least?”

Rejection is nothing new. Veronica was ready for the sting. However, Nick’s words didn’t sting at all. In fact, Veronica could only find herself hiding her face in his shirt, enjoying this comfort. Her heart stopped racing and she felt calmer than she had all night. This wasn’t rejection. Not by a long shot. A to be continued perhaps?

“This is perfect.” She said, holding her crush closer. “Stay just like this for your date. At least for a few more moments.”

Nick smiled. “As you wish.”

Veronica may not have Nick’s attention like how Valerie does, but at this moment, Veronica had Nick focused on her and her alone. He was hers right now. Veronica couldn’t ask for more. This definitely was an unconventional date, clumsy and hardly what anyone would call romantic. Veronica would cherish it all the same.

xxxx

While the sweet sound of rain soothed one duo, another couldn’t hear it all, it being completely drowned out by applause with bubbling excitement. Tonight may be one of the coldest nights for Atlas, but for a warehouse in Mantle filled with young adults, passion burned in the form of a young woman in black about to conquer the stage with her guitar and vocals. Summer was ready to vent. While Eliza carefully observed from afar.

If she wasn’t here then she might not have believed it. With those clothes and confidence, Eliza was sure she was watching a stranger.“Summer Schnee, you and your brother are one surprise after another.”

The singer grabbed a microphone and looked out to the many eyes ready to cut loose. “ALRIGHT EVERYBODY LET’S MAKE SOME NOISE!”

Summer screamed, receiving nothing less than twice the excitement back. No time was wasted in playing how she played less. Tonight was her night. Problems could wait until tomorrow.

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #blake belladonna #winter schnee #eliza marigold #veronica belladonna

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itsivyberry · 3 years

Text

tri-wizard champion {5}

The Maze

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

a/n: my Christmas gift to you because 2020 has sucked ass and I want to finish this series before it’s over❤️ enjoy also READ THE MF TRIGGER WARNINGS THEY ARE REALLT IMPORTANT THIS TIME

word count: 4590

warnings: major character death, lots of blood, anxiousness, mentions of vomiting, sad sad stuff dude, also literally loss of a limb (there’s a warning before it begins, please don’t read if you can’t stomach it)

summary: the truth about the Y/L/N’s is to be revealed soon when Y/N is facing the dangers within the maze of the third task.

tag list: @drawlfoy @fanficflaneuse @ccelinewritess @accio-rogers @babyhoneystvles @nekee-lilac02 @dracofeltonmalfoy

masterlist

{ 1 } { 2 } { 3 } { 3.5 } { 4 } { 5 } { 6 }

gif credit: @harrysweasleys

The final task approached rapidly.

News about the sudden death of Barty Crouch spread throughout the student body quickly.

Y/N was growing anxious, more than she ever was for any other task. The spots from the grindylows had faded to a lighter color, similar to the two gashes on her back.

But now here she was, waking through a doorway to face the entire Hogwarts student body along with families and the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students clad in a black and yellow outfit to represent Hufflepuff.

The three Hogwarts champions stood by their entrance to the maze. Cheers could be heard from every angle at which they stood, a lively march being played by the band.

Many students had homemade banners with the champions’ last names written all over. Y/N smiled at the sight of Draco holding a large banner with a silly drawing of her and Y/L/N written in big, bold, sparkly letters. She gave him a funny face and a thumbs up, and he blew a kiss right back mouthing “good luck.”

“Sonorus!” Dumbledore casted the amplifying charm, and the sounds of cheers and music died out. Students clambered to sit down, eager to hear about the task.

“Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows it’s exact position. Now, as Mr. Diggory...” cheers erupted at the sound of Cedric’s name, and Amos held his son’s hand high in recognition, “...Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Potter...” cheers grew louder and students stood, yelling for Harry and Y/N, including Ron, Hermione, and Draco, “...are tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze, followed by Mr. Krum...” more cheers, “...and Miss Delacour.”

“The first person to touch the cup will be the winner. I’ve instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter. Should, at any point, a contestant wish to withdrawal from the task, he or she need only send up red sparks with their wands. Contestants! Gather around. Quickly!”

Y/N rushed up, following Cedric to where Dumbledore stood. Her heart was pounding.

The five champions huddled up, and Dumbledore placed his arms around Y/N’s and Krum’s shoulders.

“In the maze, you’ll find no dragons or creatures of the deep. Instead you’ll face something even more challenging. You see, people change in the maze. Oh, find the cup if you can. But be very wary. You could just lose yourselves along the way.” The ominous undertone to his voice gave Y/N goosebumps.

Draco watched intently, trying to listen to what Dumbledore was saying to the five teens, but had no luck. His heart was pounding just as hard as Y/N’s was.

“Champions, prepare yourselves!” Dumbledore instructed, and the crowd cheered again.

Without thinking, Y/N turned around and bolted to the stands, stopping right in front of where Draco was.

“Wish me luck!” She said, jumping up to wrap her around a around his neck and pulled him close. He sat up to lean over the railing blocking the two of them, hugging her so tightly. “Awes” and “oohs” circled around the two of them.

“Good luck.” Draco whispered in Y/N’s ear, pulling back just enough to press his lips on hers in a rushed and anxious kiss.

She pulled away quickly, touching her feet to the ground and smiling warmly at him, before rushing back to her designated entrance to the maze, unknowing of what she should find inside.

Y/N looked into it, her heart hammering. It was too foggy to see any clearer than maybe 6 feet in front of her, and the hedges were impossibly tall.

Her thoughts began to bite at her. What if I don’t make it through in time? What if something in there kills me? What if I get lost and nobody can see the red sparks?

She wished she had the support of a representative like the other champions did. Y/N looked over to see Amos giving Cedric a tight hug, whispering something in his ear.

Just as quickly as he had hugged his son, he made his way over to the young girl and gave her a big hug too. “You’ll do amazing, Y/N. I wish both you and Cedric the best of luck.” He said into her ear.

“Thank you, Amos.” She smiled at him, allowing him to step back over to his son.

Cedric smiled at her, but it was wobbly. He could tell she was just as nervous as he was, and tried his best to comfort her with the distance between them.

“On the count of three. One-“ Dumbledore’s voice was cut off by the canon exploding early. Y/N couldn’t breathe as she watched Harry take the first step into the maze. Cedric followed right after, and the lively music from before flooded through the small arena.

The second Y/N stepped at least two feet into the maze, the entrance sealed off. It was deafening, how silent it had suddenly become.

Draco watched closely, as his girlfriend was suddenly separated from the eyes of the spectators. He knew her parents were watching somewhere in the crowd, feeling just as nervous as he was.

The only thing Y/N could hear was her own staggered breathing and the snaps of twigs beneath her feet. The passage was narrow, and she kept her want tightly in her hand.

The maze seemed to change every passing second, passages forming quickly. She was running now, trying to make sure she wouldn’t get crushed.

The first scream caught Y/N’s attention. It was loud, and bone chilling, and echoed throughout the entire maze. She was so sure the other champions must’ve heard it.

She was frozen. The scream must’ve come from Fleur, she had decided, and was silently praying the girl wasn’t hurt.

It was when an explosion over head, red sparks from only a passage over, had broken Y/N from her trance.

From outside the maze, everyone was silent at the first sight of surrender. Draco was repeating a mantra in his head.

Don’t be Y/N. Don’t be Y/N. Don’t be Y/N. Don’t be Y/N. Don’t be Y/N. Don’t be Y/N. Don’t be Y/N.

A glimmer caught her eye. She had barely moved from the entrance, not nearly putting in as much effort as she thought she would.

Y/N walked slowly towards it, whipping around and keeping her eyes open for any threat. A twig cracked behind her, and she screamed when something tackled her to the ground.

Draco heard the second scream. He knew it was Y/N after Fleur was removed from the maze. It took all of his control not to jump from the stands and force his way into the maze to find her himself.

“Y/N? Oh, Merlin I’m so sorry!” Cedric pulled himself off of her. “I thought you were Krum! He’s gone insane!” He helped her up.

Y/N’s eyes were blown wide and her breath was short. “You- you scared me! Don’t do that!”

Cedric must’ve seen the glimmer too, a glowing object in the distance.

“Together?” He asked her, not taking his eyes off the prize.

“Together.” She spokes quietly, taking the first step towards the cup.

Indistinct shouting not very far from the two Hufflepuffs made both of them jump. Krum, who’s eyes seemed to be incredibly cloudy from what Y/N remembered they actually looked like, was shooting hexes at Harry.

Harry’s defenses were down. “Get down!” Cedric yelled, jumping in front of Y/N and dodging the hex that had missed Harry. Y/N shrunk into the hedge to the left of her, covering her face with her hands.

“Get down!” Cedric yelled once more, Krum yelling another indistinguishable hex at Harry who was now on the ground.

“Expelliarmus!” Y/N gained the courage to jump up, hitting Krum square in the chest. He was thrown further away from the three of them, and seemingly unconscious.

Cedric ran over to him, kicking his wand from his hand. Y/N and Harry both realized he was about to cast another spell on him, Godric knows which one.

“No! Stop!” Harry yelled, holding him back. “He’s bewitched, Cedric!”

“Get off me!” He shoved Harry harshly.

“He’s bewitched!” Harry repeated.

“Cedric! Stop! Listen to him!” Y/N yelled, holding him back as well. Cedric shoved her to the ground so hard, her wrist snapped in half from the angle at which she hit the hard dirt. She cried out and it echoed, using her elbow to sit up and her feet to push away from the two boys. She had already caught a look at the ungodly angle her hand was suddenly bent at, and it made her want to vomit.

Cedric realized what he had done at the sound of his best friend’s scream. He was about to hold his wand up to send sparks for both Y/N and Krum, but Y/N jumped up before he could.

“Stop! We’ve already made it too far.” Her voice trembled. She was shaking violently, keeping distance between her and the two boys.

It was silent for a moment, the deafening sound taking over between the three teenagers just as when they first entered the maze.

“Together?” Cedric asked quietly, repeating what he said earlier, and looking at both of them.

“Together.” Harry and Y/N said at the same time.

Just as Y/N took a step towards them, a violent gust of wind hit her back and loud cracking echoed.

“Go!” Cedric yelled, grabbing Y/N’s good hand and running towards the cup. Harry ran after them, as quick as he could.

They made it to the center of the maze, and there stood the magnificent Triwizard Cup.

“Go on! Take it!” Cedric yelled.

“Together!” Harry yelled back, looking at Y/N who still had tears streaming down her face.

“One, two, three!” The three students jumped forward in the nick of time, grabbing ahold of the cup. A bright white light filled Y/N’s vision, and she was suddenly dizzy.

The three of them dropped onto the ground. She could sense their location had changed before she opened her eyes.

Harry and Cedric were on the ground near each other, gasping for breath. Y/N was thrown on the ground along with the cup, just a few feet away from them. The shock was beginning to wear off, and the pain was almost unbearable in her wrist.

“Come on, Y/N. Get up.” Cedric spoke quietly, the stillness of their new location scaring him. “You okay?” He asked both of them.

“Yeah.” Harry stood, looking around. Y/N allowed Cedric to help her stand, and she could finally see where they were. He held her broken wrist loosely in his hand, putting a protective arm around her shoulder.

A graveyard. The cup was a portkey. The sky was dark and cloudy, fog covering the rolling hills. Y’all tombstones towered over the three of them.

“Where are we?” She whispered.

“I’ve been here before.” Harry spoke suddenly.

“It’s a portkey. Harry, the cup is a portkey.” Cedric smiled mischievously down at the glowing cup.

“I’ve been here before.” Harry repeated. “In a dream.”

“Cedric! We have to get back to the cup. Now!” Harry’s voice was filled with fear and realization.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Y/N asked, her eyes filling with tears again, thinking the worst that could possibly happen. Were they set up?

“What are you talking about?” Cedric pulled Y/N closer, trying to keep her safe from whatever Harry had realized.

A door creaked open loudly in front of them. It made Y/N jump, and the first tear rolled down her cheek.

Harry began shouting when a figure walked from the doorway. A scruffy man turned as he collapsed on the ground, and a fire was lit from under a large cauldron in front of the doorway. Cedric released Y/N from his hold, rushing over to Harry.

“Harry! What is it?” He spoke, his voice cracking from fear.

“Get back to the cup!” Harry yelled out of pain again, sounding rather irritated.

Cedric put distance between him and Harry as the figure stepped out from the doorway. Y/N immediately recognized him as Peter Pettigrew, a good friend of her parents before he betrayed them all for Voldemort. Her eyes were wide when she realized what he was holding in his arms.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Cedric spoke, holding his wand up as a threat.

“Cedric, back down now!” Y/N yelled pulling his shoulder back. He shrugged her off.

“Kill the spare. Keep the girl alive.” A raspy voice spoke.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“No! Cedric!” Harry yelled, attempting to stand but was too late.

A bright green light temporarily blinded her. She watched the unforgivable curse hit Cedric and throw him over her head and behind her. The second his corpse hit the ground, a loud sob escaped her mouth.

Peter rushed over to Harry, using his wand to force him to stand. He backed him up into a statue that locked him in place.

“Do it! Now!” The raspy voice spoke again.

Peter hesitated for a moment. He walked over to the cauldron, keeping a hold of the blanket in his hands but dropped whatever was holding it into the boiling substance.

“Bone of the father unwillingly given.” A disgusting bone was levitated from the ground, caught on fire and into the cauldron.

Y/N’s breathing was too short when the realization of a dead body behind her set in.

“Flesh of the servant...” he turned suddenly, rushing to Y/N and forcing her towards the cauldron.

“Stop! What are you doing to me!” She yelled, trying to release herself from his grip, but it was too strong.

“Willingly sacrificed.” A large knife was pulled from his sleeve. He forced her broken wrist above the steaming substance as she thrashed against him.

********THIS PART IS GROSS PLEASE PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE REALLY GORY STUFF!!!!!!!!!!! ‼️‼️‼️‼️

With no hesitation, he dug the sharp knife into her wrist, cutting through the bone and severing her hand into the liquid below. She screamed, louder than she ever thought she could. Blood spurt from her hand, staining the grass by her feet. Peter threw her on the ground, away from him and Harry.

She made quick work, ripping part of her shirt to wrap around her wrist, trying not to pass out from the loss of blood and the sight of her bone. Y/N had been taught what to do in this situation, just not to herself. She could barely even register what was happening as her fight or flight took over.

“And blood of the enemy...” he used the same knife to cut part of Harry’s sleeve. “Forcibly taken.” Peter dug the knife into his wrist, blood rushing down Harry’s arm and dripping from his elbow. He cried in pain, and it made Y/N wince.

Peter tapped the hilt of the knife over the cauldron, letting a few dropped of Harry’s blood sizzle into the liquid.

“The Dark Lord shall rise... again.” He spoke, breathing loudly.

Harry’s screams broke Y/N from her daze due to the blood loss. The entire cauldron caught on fire, melting away to reveal none other than the slimey, naked, disgusting body of Lord Voldemort.

Black smoke surrounded him before his pale feet touched the ground, forming into a cloak of some sort.

Y/N could hear him inhale deeply, running his hands along the pale, veiny skin on his head. She could tell this was the first time in a while he had taken his human form.

Peter stepped forward, his face full of awe and adoration.

Voldemort walked forward to Peter, looking down and laughing quietly but maniacally and the form he had taken.

“My wand, Wormtail.” Voldemort spoke harshly toward his follower, holding out his hand. Peter brandished the wand, bowing deeply and holding it out to Voldemort.

“Y/N, hey, look at me! You’re going to be okay. We are going to make it out of this. Stay close to the portkey.” Harry whispered, turning his head to see Y/N in her awful state. She looked petrified, seemingly wishing this was some sort of nightmare.

They watched as Voldemort took the wand from Peter, inhaling deeply.

“Hold out your arm.” He commanded Peter.

“Master...” Peter started to cry. “Thank you, master.” He began to hold out one of his arms.

“The other arm, Wormtail.” Voldemort spat. Peter’s eyes went wide as he held his other arm, allowing Voldemort to take a grip on it.

He shoved the tip of his wand onto the bare skin of Peter’s wrist, and the dull ink that once was there grew darker, revealing the Dark Mark in its true form.

Thunder rumbled throughout the graveyard. Y/N jumped, trying to stay as quiet as she could.

Voldemort looked up into the clouds. Y/N followed his gaze, and right before her eyes a dark skull formed. The skull opened its mouth, and a thick trail of smoke bellowed out of it, heading right towards where they were. The smoke broke off into different paths, becoming darker.

The second the smoke touched the ground, a person appeared. There were too many for her to count. Dressed in dark cloaks, skull masks and pointing hats, she couldn’t identify any of them.

“Welcome, my friends. Thirteen years, it’s been, and yet... here you stand before me as though it were only yesterday. I confess myself... disappointed.” Voldemort spat again, his voice echoing through the graveyard.

“Not one of you tried to find me. Crabbe!” Voldemort yelled, rushing up to one of the figures and ripping the skull mask off. Dark smoke followed.

With just a flick of his hand, Voldemort was now revealing the figures.

“Macnair! Goyle!” Y/N recognized the names. Crabbe and Goyle, two of Draco’s closest minions. She was silently praying there wasn’t a Malfoy among them.

“Not even you, Lucius.” Voldemort walked up to the last standing figure, ripping of the mask. A crow flew away violently from behind them.

Y/N was trying to stop the bleed of her wrist, but it soaked through the fabric she had wrapped on it. She was fighting off the black spots of her vision.

“My lord,” Lucius was brought to his knees. “Had I detected any sign, a whisper of your whereabouts-“

“There were signs, my slippery friend. And more than whispers.” Voldemort interrupted him.

“I assure you, my Lord, I have never renounced the old ways.” Lucius removed the hat from his head, revealing a familiar platinum blonde. Y/N let out an involuntary sob as she realized, but soon quieted down.

“The face I have been obliged to present each day since your... absence... that is my true mask.” Lucius continued as the other Deatheaters around them stood.

“I returned.” Peter spoke shakily, raising a hand for recognition. He gasped and doubled over when Voldemort rushed over to him, the cloak bellowing behind him.

“Out of fear, not loyalty. Still, you have proved yourself useful these past few months, Wormtail.” Voldemort’s voice softened just the slightest bit.

Y/N didn’t have time to realize when he was walking over to where she sat on the ground, over by Cedric’s body.

“Oh...” he spoke, pushing his face around with his foot. Y/N winced as he tutted loudly. “Such a handsome boy.”

“Don’t touch him!” Harry yelled, shrinking back when Y/N flinched and Voldemort glared at him.

“And who might this be, Wormtail? I see you used her for the spell.” Voldemort sneered, looking down at Y/N.

“Y/N Y/L/N, my Lord.” Wormtail spoke up. From behind Voldemort, Y/N saw Lucius whip around with an unrecognizable look on his face.

“Y/L/N?” Voldemort repeated, and Peter nodded. “Stand, girl, now.” He demanded.

Y/N stood slowly and shakily, keeping her composure in front of the Dark Lord himself.

Voldemort’s hand whipped out to grab her wrist, taking a look at the damage that was done. She inhaled sharply, letting out another sob from the grip he had.

“Well done. You have served me well, Y/N.” Voldemort said, dropping his grip and letting her arm fall limp. She kept a hard face despite the tears running down her cheeks.

Her eyes flickered to Harry. He had an expression that said “back down.” Voldemort followed her line of sight to look at the boy he hated so very much.

“Harry. Oh, I’d almost forgotten you were here. Standing on the bones of my father. I’d introduce you, but word has it you’re almost as famous as me these days.” Voldemort paused, maintaining eye contact for a second more.

He turned suddenly to his followers. “The boy who lived. How lies have fed your legend, Harry. Shall I reveal what really happened that night 13 years ago?”

“Shall I divulge how I truly lost my powers? Yes, shall I?” Hs muttered to himself, walking away from Harry.

“It was love. You see, when dear, sweet Lily Potter gave her life for her only son, she provided the ultimate protection. I could not touch him. It was old magic. Something I should have foreseen. But no matter, no matter. Things have changed.” Voldemort ended his monologue, rushing up to Harry and raising a hand as if to strike him.

“I can touch you... now.” He brought his pointer finger to touch Harry’s scar.

The screams that filled Y/N’s ears were agonizing. She shrunk into herself, wincing away from the noises. When Voldemort screamed along with Harry, ripping his hand away from his face, the screams stopped.

“Astonishing what a few drops of your blood with do, eh, Harry? Pick up your wand, Potter!” Voldemort released the statues grip on Harry, letting him drop to the ground.

“I said, pick it up! Get up! Get up! You’ve been taught how to duel, I presume, yes? First, we bow to each other. Come on, now, Harry. The niceties must be observed. Dumbledore wouldn’t want you to forget your manners, would he? I said, bow.” He was speaking so quickly, almost going crazy at the thought of fighting Harry once and for all. With a wave of his wand, Harry was forced into a bow.

“That’s better. And now!” Voldemort growled, running towards Harry and throwing him onto the ground. Y/N watched, using her feet to shove her back farther from the scene. When she hit something, she turned around quickly to see Cedric.

“No, no, no, no.” She kept repeating, grabbing his face in her hands. It was as though she finally realized what had happened. She had lost her best friend. Sobs were heard from where she sat on the ground. Her tears dripped down her chin and onto Cedric’s cold face as the dual behind her continued. She winced at every hex that was sent to either of them.

“I’m so sorry, Ced. Please. Please.” She begged him, grasping at his shirt, still sobbing violently.

Y/N never took her eyes off of Cedric, even when Voldemort and Harry cast such strong spells that they collided, created a blinding light from behind her. It was went Harry’s Expelliarmus spell finally hit the tip of Voldemort’s wand when she turned around to see an abonormallt large spark erupt.

It took the form of Cedric, alive and smiling at the two of them. Another old man, presumably a muggle, took place on the other side of them. Two more sparks formed to be a woman and a man. The man was speaking quickly to Harry.

“Harry! When the connection is broken you must get to the portkey! We can linger for a moment to give you some time, but only a moment. Do you understand?” Harry nodded.

“Harry, Y/N,” Cedric spoke from above. Y/N’s tears began to start again at the sound of his voice. “Take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my father.”

“Let go.” The woman’s voice was heard. “Sweetheart, you’re ready. Let go. Let go!” All four spirits rushed forward when the connection was broken.

Harry ran quickly over to Y/N and Cedric.

“Hold onto him! Accio!” Harry pointed his wand at the portkey, grabbing Y/N’s hand as she wrapped her arm around Cedric’s. The portkey took them right back to the arena.

The three of them landed hard on the ground. Cedric’s body was sprawled, and cheering erupted. The lively music started once more, nobody noticing what had happened. Harry was crying now.

“Harry, let go of him. Let go of him!” Y/N sat up, pulling Harry off of Cedric’s body.

He knocked her off, the exhaustion finally hitting her as she collapsed on the ground. Fleur rushed forward, and Y/N had never been so glad to see her.

She screamed loudly, looking around and covering her mouth with her hands in terror.

“Harry!” Dumbledore yelled, rushing from his spot in the stands. Hagrid hesitated to continue clapping when he realized what was happening. The music finally died down with the sounds of a trumpet flailing.

“For God’s same, Dumbledore, what’s happened?” The minister rushed to the ground by Harry and Cedric. Two Beauxbatons girls were helping Y/N up, her head lolling as she finally began to lose consciousness.

“Help! We need help here!” One of the girls called, her accent thick. Draco rushed up so quick, breathing heavy. “I’ll take her.” He spoke to the girls.

Y/N looked up quick at his voice. “Don’t touch me! Don’t let him take me! Get away from me!” She screamed, thrashing away from his hands.

He seemed so hurt and confused, putting his hands up in surrender. Y/N could tell he looked scared, more than she was at the mere sight of him.

Madame Promfrey was quick to rush up to Y/N, Taking her from the girls and putting her on a stretcher. “She’s coming with me alone.” She spoke harshly to every student surrounded it Y/N. Gasps were heard as the stretcher was levitated and everyone could see the damage.

“That’s my boy!” The faint cry of Amos filled Y/N’s ears. She used all her strength to lull her head to the side, watching her best friend’s dad collapse next to his son’s corpse. Her face scrunched up as hot tears escaped her eyes, dripping from the bridge of her nose onto the fabric of the stretcher.

Y/N eventually succumbed to the darkness, not caring who could see how hurt she was. Every student saw the blood soaking her shirt, how dirty she was, and her missing hand. It was an awful sight, and some people had to turn away so they wouldn’t lose their dinner.

Pomfrey was quick to take her to the Hospital Wing, fixing her up and cleaning her off so she could rest comfortably.

~.•*✰

Students would linger in over the next few days, checking up on Y/N to see how she was doing. She was always the same every time; asleep, but alive.

There wasn’t much Pomfrey could do about her hand. Tragic, it really was. Y/N would have never been considered as a follower to Voldemort, much less a loyal servant to him.

Dumbledore helped shield her from the press and the students that were begging to know what had happened in the maze. He made sure Y/N wouldn’t wake up to threats or feel incredibly unsafe somewhere she called home.

Professors were now worried about how to tell the students about the death of the golden boy, and how to not let it slip that Voldemort is back, alive, and rapidly gaining power.

But that was an issue for when Y/N woke up, and the truth about her family would finally be revealed.

~•.*✰

a/n: wow! Sorry about this one! I decided to leave on a cliff hanger, lol my bad. I’m done using the movie as a reference so the last chapter is coming straight from the noggin onto my cellular device. Merry Christmas tho, hope y’all got everything you wanted! Happy holidays and happy Hanukkah, Kwanza, or whatever you celebrate during this time! Love you all so much

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thecursedhellblazer · 3 years

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romantic headcanons.

name: John Constantine alias: Hellblazer, ConJob, The Laughing Magician, The World’s Greatest Con Man, El Diablo, The Constant One gender: male sexual orientation: pansexual romantic orientation: demiromantic

preferred pet names: John pretty much plays along with whatever nickname his partner(s) decide to use for him, from “classic” ones to whatever thing the people he’s seeing might have come up with. This means that even insults can become pet names, when used by his current partner, no matter how bad they can get. relationship status: single / verse dependant (I currently have a verse in which he’s building a poly relationship, another in which he’s (un)officially dating but it might get more than official at some point, and one in which he has a proper stable boyfriend)

opinion on true love: John believes that a kind of love that comes close to be defined as such exists. He has experience a similar feeling in person a few times (with Nick and Zatanna, with Kit). However, because of his past experiences, he isn’t very confident on the fact that he’ll ever manage to find a way to keep that sort of relationship going. The closer someone gets to him, the worse fate awaits ahead of them or the deeper he disappoints them. opinion on love at first sight: John believes in “attraction at first sight”, but not in love at first sight. That’s in part because getting attached is often not an option for him. When it comes to sex and romance, he prefers going for something casual, with few string attached. It’s it’s safer and less complicated, and it hurts less with things inevitably fall apart. So, he isn’t one to fall fast for people. He wouldn’t be able to even if he tried (with a few exceptions). how ‘romantic’ are they?: John can be a romantic, especially if it’s something that his partner(s) enjoy. Personally, he likes doing some traditional couple stuff, like going out for dinner, going to concerts, having a picnic or even just having an aimless stroll around holding hands. He likes trying to play the cook and cooking homemade meals...even if the results aren’t always stellar. So, when he really cares for someone (or he is in love) John is…a lot of things. He tries to be charming, confident, playful and appealing, and he wines and dines his partner(s) as much as they allow him to. However, he can also be a huge, sometimes sappy dork. He’d go to hell and back, literally too, to try and make his partner(s) happy (and that’s part of his idea of romance too).

ideal physical traits: John’s tastes when it comes to his partners’ physical appearances are, to say the least, variegated. Considering that he finds attractive beings from very different species, it’s hard to pinpoint what exactly draws him to someone, physically speaking. He has a certain preference for inhuman traits, especially if they could be somehow harmful for him (he finds the thrill of danger is too appealing for his sake). Another thing that he likes, in humans and non-humans alike, is physical strength. He likes someone who can crush him and hold him down, or who can put up a fight when he does that. ideal personality traits: John enjoys someone who can match his wits, who is cunning and can challenge him, keep him on his toes. He’s also attracted to people who can be too straightforward and who are strong-willed and determined, bold and not easily deterred, perhaps because those are all qualities someone needs to have to manage to stay around him for a prolonged amount of time. He’s also drawn to people who are fierce and passionate or have strong emotions, but can also keep an open mind. He can appreciate if his partner(s) have a kind, softer, perhaps even nurturing side, because, whether he wants to admit it or not, he tends to cling and find solace in such affections.

unattractive physical traits: Again, it’s just as hard to pinpoint what John might not like as it is to find specific physical traits that he found more attractive (I mean, at some point he had sex with a bunch of sentients organs, for the gods!). He’s open to give everyone and everything a try (as long as it’s consensual), though not all the experiences turn out to be pleasant. Those, he tends to avoid the second time. unattractive personality traits: Dullness, excessive ignorance or lack of smartness. Hypocrisy, because John might be a liar, but that kind of behaviour irks him to no end. People who are too pretentious, who have a too high idea of themselves without having a good reason to justify it. People who force themselves on others, in any way. Someone who’s too obsessive (because of bad past experiences) or too self-absorbed to spare the effort every relationship needs to work out.

do they have a type?: Yes and no. He has a preference for whoever checks most of the boxes when it comes to what he generally likes in a partner, but every case turns out to be different. It’s also true that most of his lovers, though, held some sort of power over him, be it because they are strong (physically or mentally or “magically) or because they for some reason have the upper hand in the relationship. Strong-willedness and ability to call him out on his bullshit are other recurrent traits. opinion of public affection: When he’s fond of someone, John can get very touchy-feely, if not straight out handsy, around them, no matter if they are alone or in public. He is very much open to PDA, but he restrains himself if his partner prefers avoid them. The same can’t be said for when they are in private, because then any excuse (and even the lack of one) is good to gets his hands on whoever he’s seeing.

favourite canon ship: Uuuh, I’m going to say Nick / John / Zatanna. We don’t see much of it in canon, aside from their tragic falling out, but I like to think that they had a good run before everything fell apart. John was obviously so very in love with them both, and the three of them balanced each other well and were a positive influence in each other’s life, even if at the same times they also tended to bring out the worst in each other. For all those reasons and more, I love the verse I’ve been building with @adventurepunks because it allows me to explore all the shades of their complicated relationship. I liked, even if not as much, John’s relationship with Kit. Though, I must say that I’m glad (for her) that it didn’t work out, because that wonderful woman deserves so much better than him (just as Zatanna). favourite non-canon ship: I have three main non-canon relationships. John / Demon John (which I write in my verse with @thedemonconstantine ) and that’s a pairing I also ship in general (meaning outside RPs). Then we have John / Oliver Queen, with @thegreenxrcher (and with her too I have a whole verse). Last but not least, John / Nick Sethson ( Devil OC written by @paradiseturnedhell). Each of this ships has its own peculiar appeal to me and I could write an essay for each of them, but I’ll spare you all x’D However, I want to make some special mentions too. I have build a wonderful friendships (with occasional benefits) with @obsessionsarenotforheroes and her Jessica. I’m developing a ship (or should I say shipS? xD How does it even work with Marc xD) with @fistofhnsw. John & @laughter-in-white‘s croptop J because their friends-with-benefits relationship is hilarious. And, finally, John and Koriand’r ( @blizzardmuses...‘cause they kissed twice “for science” so it counts...right???)

tagged by: @laughter-in-white & @paradiseturnedhell tagging: @thegreenxrcher (one of the demons?) @fistofhnsw @adventurepunks @blizzardmuses @elisethetraveller @goldentemplariumcrow @seekthedarknesswithin - & whoever wants to steal this !

#john constantine #hellblazer #(( mun's headcanons ))#* My reality is eleven tenths perception. * ::headcanons::

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doctorstephenvincentstrange · 3 years

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Doctor Strange & Worth: MCU Meta

So this has sat unposted in my drafts for the longest time, but I’ve decided to dust her off and let her see the light of day, after all. These are just some of my thoughts regarding Stephen’s character development and journey in the Marvel Cinematic Universe film: his growth from someone who cannot see the true worth in himself or anybody else to someone whose eyes are opened to the beauty of everything. Not to mention how that eye-opening allows him to evolve from someone who cannot love to someone who loves fully and truly, and how Kaecilius plays a vital role in opening his eyes to the error of his ways.

Without further ado, let’s get into it!

Let’s start with the beginning of the movie.

Stephen flounces around the hospital like he owns the place and flexes his overbearing, boastful personality without a second thought. Like, most people have at least a smidgen of consideration for others and some degree of self-consciousness or ‘filter’ regarding how they treat others, but Stephen has zero. He talks down on staff members, orders people around like inferiors regardless of their status, and acts as though he is God almighty and the hospital would go to the dogs without him, overestimating his self importance. He legit acted like an overgrown child that’s yet to be struck with the reality everything is not about him. Stephen seizes every possible opportunity to show off even when inappropriate, and does all he can to assert his correctness and prioritizes it. It’s clear from the get-go that Stephen has some kind of overinflated sense of self.

All this would certainly seem to indicate beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is a generic arrogant, selfish bastard 101, but let’s skip ahead a bit, just for a sec.

This line isn’t him joking around, rather, it’s the confirmation that Stephen truly thought his own behavior was endearing. As much as he liked himself, he was convinced everybody else did, too. He genuinely, sincerely was convinced that his antics were somehow winsome and charming. And of course, having been in a position of power as a Chief Surgeon and his state of world renown, there’s no way anybody would have told him otherwise. Nobody would really be frank and honest with him — I mean, yeah, sure, Christine was, but seeing as she was the only one he was on friendly terms with who he held in high regard and was frank with him (exclude Nick, and all probable others Stephen smugly thought very little of, and their opinions), there’s no way he’d take one person’s word over that of the masses. And it’s just obvious how overcrowded he was with sycophants that overfed his deluded ego and made it harder for him to wake up to his own self deception revolving the ‘charm’ he was convinced that he possessed.

Just look at the way he hits on her! Look at the denial! We did too have fun!

You know how people say “the bigger they are, the harder they fall?”

Yeah, this story really does live up to that.

The lie Stephen was living was cut short when he lost it all and his fall from grace leaves him at the mercy of people’s honesty. All those “people skills” he thought he had do him no favors, and suddenly anybody and everybody can speak freely to him, and he’s not getting sugarcoated responses. He’s no longer treating people as his inferiors however he pleases without lash back.

And Stephen, who only knows his worth through the reception and acknowledgement of his talent and the amazing feats he had achieved with his hands in the neurological field, now feels the weight of worthlessness crushing down upon him. There are no more CCN interviews, no more speaking engagements. In his own mind, he is useless. And without any worth, there is no reason anyone would want anything to do with him. He cannot accept, within his narrow mindset, that anybody could ever love him in this reduced state. For that reason, he insists that Christine Palmer — that unlike TV reporters or other sycophants, has stayed by his side all this time — must only linger beside him for her own self gain and reputation. It must simply be an act of pity, because that’s how Stephen sees Christine’s acts of selflessness and her work— nothing but her looking down on other people to boost her own sense of self, as he has.

And when Stephen goes to Karmar-Taj, he’s completely out of his element and in a setting that is absolutely foreign to him, but navigates all the same, the only way that he knows how to. His thoughtless, proud tendency to view all else as beneath him really comes back to haunt him when it threatens to close the door to magic — and miraculous change and healing for him — forever.

By the time Stephen realizes he has misjudged the Ancient One and Kamar-Taj, and that magic is indeed very real and potentially his one last shot at reobtaining his former life, it is too late. He beseeches the Ancient One to teach him the ways of magic, but she has already seen enough of his arrogance to determine him an ill fit for a pupil..

In the end, it is because of Mordo convincing the Ancient One that even a man such as Strange still has worth and he may be of use in the future, reasserting their beliefs that all life has value, no matter how misguided it may be, it need only be redirected and put on the correct path... does the Ancient One agree and allow Strange to return, for a chance at redemption and potentially salvation.

And so, Stephen begins studying magic. And unsurprisingly, being wrong about magic isn’t enough to hamper his antics. He’s the same old Strange.

In this scene, Wong tells Stephen when he’s not ready to learn something yet, but Stephen completely challenges and opposes him, going so far as to break the rules of the library Wong protects just so he can continue with his self advancement and conquest towards superiority (and hopefully, healing). He challenges his lessons, preferring to teach himself and refusing to acknowledge that even his teachers could possibly have any superiority to his abilities.

And it’s so hard for Stephen to make sense of, the backlash he receives for these behaviors. He can’t understand how he’s apparently ‘made for the mystic arts’ but is also being told to mind his pace and take everything bit by bit, step by step and not just rush headlong in impatiently as he always has. In his own mind, he’s not doing anything wrong by breaking rules or pushing limits — it’s all about the results, after all. And this, this is for the most important result of them all... his hands. It doesn’t matter how dirty they have to get, he wants to fix them.

In the medical world, when Stephen showed off, people clapped & praised him because what harm could there be in pushing the limits and crossing the boundaries to save someone’s life? It was okay if he wanted to do something unconventional and risky (like remove a bullet from someone’s brain without a visual) because the ends justified the means, and he always delivered. It didn’t matter what he had to do or how ruthless he was, treating all around him as mere tools at his disposal to achieve what he wanted, without considering what might be at stake. Boundaries were never of the essence to Stephen.

But when he pushes the boundaries of magic and tries out the Ancient One’s Private Collection just to pursue greatness and feed his own ambition, he gets retaliation from both Wong and Mordo and is reprimanded about all the consequences he didn’t think of and other lives he wasn’t considering as he never has been before. And Stephen can barely collect himself and for the first time in the film, is speechless and out of witty remarks to snap. He is just so put off because he’s never been put in that position before, being held accountable for the liabilities of his pursuits for greatness. Simply put, he had never been made to consider the eggs he was breaking to get his omelet, and now, he is.

And he still doesn’t get it. “They really should put the warnings before the spell,” he says, because clearly it’s not his hastiness or ambition at fault, but the book.

And he doesn’t get it, and he most likely would have never gotten it or opened up to the Ancient One, Wong, Mordo, or even Christine. No, he had to see it for himself. And see it, he does; in fact, it ends up staring him straight in the face.

They didn't spend so much screen time drawing parallels between these two over and over for no reason, this was what it was all building up to. Here, Doctor Strange meets his ego’s match. Kaecilius wants to save the world by granting everyone eternal life, preventing all its inhabitants from feeling suffering ever again. A bit like "doing work that will save thousands for years to come," no?

The influence and efforts of others finally pay off as Stephen begins to apply their thinking, and questions what the cost will be if Kaecilius does that for the whole world, and if that accomplishment would really be as amazing as doing what he can in the immediate moment to spare the/ benefit the lives of individual people... kind of like “saving one drunk idiot with a gun,” right?. And Kaecilius dismisses Strange's interjections, repeats the same words he said to the Ancient one in the beginning... they’re just insignificant specks in an indifferent universe, just sacrifices that must be had to achieve what must be done. He even tries to reason with Strange, and appeal to the very reason he’s in that mess in the first place... his hands, and his deep desire to have them healed and restored.

And for the first time Stephen is looking the devil in the eye, and sees himself.

“Just look at your face!” And in that moment, Stephen rejects the man he has been, and can see clearly his flaws for what they are. His ego trip may have blinded him, but in that moment, he got on his own level and saw himself for the first time the way that others saw him, and it wasn’t someone he wanted to be and he recognized the wrongs of his ways. How ambition and the conquest for betterment can consume someone completely, until they’re so blinded in their pursuit for self worth, that they disregard the worth of all the other lives and people around them — it’s all ends that justify the means. It's not actually about doing what's right. It's about accomplishing the greatest feat possible for oneself — this is Kaecellius' ego unleashed, not a sincere quest for world salvation.

And everything bad he didn’t want to become that he saw in Kaecellius, gives way for new direction in all the inspiring goodness he sees in the Ancient One, her final farewell, and her sacrifice of her life to save his and Mordo’s own.

And in the end, Stephen finally understands what the Ancient One, Wong, and Mordo, and Christine were all on about. It’s not about what change you can create for other people to benefit yourself, Stephen; it's about the change YOU can make to benefit other people, who are so many in number and so much larger than yourself. It’s not about the strength in your hands, and what they can do; but the resolve of your heart, and the strength of your will.

And he learns, because the Ancient One teaches him...

He uses his own lifeforce to fence off Dormamu from earth, because even if he suffers, everyone else will be safe. He tests the worth that the Ancient One claimed she always saw in him; that could achieve things greater than he ever dreamed, greater than his medical ambitions. The goal-oriented, ruthless man we saw in the beginning becomes someone who learns true purpose and ambition. His life that was hollow and empty, becomes truly fulfilling.

And the most intriguing piece of irony of them all?

After exhausting countless resources, plenty of doctors, libraries, and research archives seeking a way to heal his own hands, he found nothing but failure. But using only his own willpower, he who felt helpless and powerless against his disabled hands, managed to save the entire planet and all those living within it.

Because it wasn't his hands that gave him value, nor was it his work. There was something greater, but he was blind to it in himself, and everybody else, seeing all based on what they could accomplish — their educational background, their medical accomplishments — a worth greater than him, in the world all around him that he always disregarded and failed to see. Something beautiful, precious.

And parallel to earlier events, when Stephen once again pushes the boundaries of magic, but this time, not in pursuit of greatness of for the betterment of his own hands... he is not received with a vocal reprimandation. On the other hand...

And here we are, at the end.

Stephen says it again. “You know, you really should read everything, because the warnings come at the beginning of the books.” He pokes fun at Kaecilius, at himself, at their likeness with a humility unlike yet before.

And Wong laughs. When Stephen went through so many different things trying to make Wong laugh — like he always had his other co-workers— he didn’t.

But when he put himself and his heart into it, he did.

And no longer is Stephen on the same path as Kaecilius, surrounded by subservient followers, who only did as he told them because of what he was after and the results he promised to be able to deliver on. Now, he surrounds himself with those who genuinely care for him for who he is. No longer is Stephen so blinded by his need to be the greatest person in the room, that he can't see the worth of those around him — of love, of friendship, of companionship.

#Doctor Strange #Stephen Strange #Marvel Meta #Marvel #This is the longest (and maybe only idk) meta I will write bc this movie makes me feel so much #that laugh in the end always makes me cry #Hope you like it <3

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 4

3rd Person POV

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers follow Harry from the moment he and Ron left their dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms standing on tip-toe to get a look at him. Harry wishes they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were the doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, Harry thinks, because it all seems to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and (Y/N) and Hermione were sure that the suits of amour would walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist when you were late to class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" The only person that Peeves seemed to get along with was, strangely, (Y/N). When she would pass by him in the halls, he would ask how her day was going. The first time, (Y/N) was shocked, looking surprised at the poltergeist, then she nodded saying, "Uh, its going pretty well."

Even worse than Peeves, Harry thinks, if that was possible, was the caretaker Argus Filch. Harry and Ron manage to get on the wrong side of him on their first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, he was sure that they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone – except perhaps the Weasley twins – and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Marvel, (Y/n)'s black and white kitten had taken to attacking the dust colored feline whenever she had the chance.

Then, once you manage to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

(Y/N) enjoyed Wednesday nights where they went out to the tallest tower and learned the names of different planets and stars. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class, in (Y/N)'s eyes, was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns hand been very old when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while the students scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Hermione had told (Y/N) that she actually liked the class, and (Y/N) looked down at her.

"Honestly, Hermione," (Y/N) teases, "I'm not surprised."

One of (Y/N)'s favorite classes so far had to be Charms. Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, (Y/N) rolling her eyes.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she tells them. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then, she changes her desk into a pig and back again. They were very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon they realized that they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After they take a lot of complicated notes, they were given a match and told to start turning it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger, and (Y/N) (L/N)-Granger had made any differences to their match. Professor McGonagall shows the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gives the two a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turn out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, hand been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell goes pink, and starts talking about the weather. For another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron, the two had managed to find their way to the Great hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asks Ron as he pours sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answers. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," says Harry. Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor House, but it didn't stop her from giving them a huge pile of homework the night before.

Just then, the mail arrives. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She would sometimes fly in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she flutters down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and drops a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tears open the letter at once, and it says, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry, borrowing Ron's quill, scribbles, Yes, please, see you later on the back fo the note, and sends Hedwig off again.

(Y/n), who was sitting across from Harry and Ron, and between Hermione and Fred Weasley, had just received a letter herself.

Dear (Y/n),

My name is Remus Lupin. You mother named me as you godfather, and I was good friends with both your mother and Harry Potter's parents when I was at Hogwarts.

I left you a box of presents and letter in you Gringotts vault, in a large wooden box. I didn't know if you had picked it up or not, but I decided that it was time that I sent you a letter at school. I hope you're doing well.

Love,

Uncle Remus

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry got the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him.

Potions lesson took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call and like Flitwick, he pauses at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he says softly, "Harry Potter, our new – celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle snigger behind their hands. Snape finishes calling the names and looks up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made (Y/N) think of a dark tunnel.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," the Potion Master begins. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence follows this little speech. Harry and Ron exchange looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione and Iliana were on the edges of their seats and Hermione looks desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" says Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glances at Ron, who looks as stumped as he was; Hermione, Iliana, and (Y/N) had all raised their hands.

"I don't know, sir," Harry says.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't anything."

He ignores Hermione and (Y/n)'s hands, his gaze flicking between Harry and (Y/N)'s hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asks.

Hermione's hand stretched higher into the air, as far as it would go without her leaving her seat and (Y/N) leaves her hand into the air.

Harry didn't have to faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answers.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape taunts, (Y/N) frowning slightly.

Harry forces himself to keep looking into Snape's cold, dark eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?"

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's hand, still glancing between Harry and (Y/N).

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asks, and (Y/N) and Hermione's hands remained in the air, Hermione standing up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon's ceiling.

"I don't know," says Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and (Y/N) know, why don't you try them?"

A few people laugh; Harry catches (Y/n)'s eye, and she winks at him. Snape however was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snaps at Hermione, "(L/N), answer the questions," Snape says, his head snapping to look at (Y/N).

(Y/N) straightens her back, clears her throat. "Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, but they also go by aconite. A bezoar is a stone taken from a goat that will save you from most poisons, and asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong that it is called the Draft of Living Death." (Y/N) rattles off, Harry and Ron exchanging shocked looks.

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor," Snape says to (Y/N), before snapping at the other students, "Well, why aren't you coping that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, and over the noise, Snape says, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor because of Potter's cheek." At this, (Y/N) turns around from her place in front of Ron, and smiles sympathetically at him.

Things didn't really improve much for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape set the first-years into pairs and set them to mixing a potion to cure boils, sweeping around in his black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush shake fang, criticizing everyone but Malfoy and (Y/N), whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at how well (Y/N) had stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing fills the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools wile Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moans in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarls Snape, clearing the potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpers as boils start popping up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the Hospital Wing," Snape snaps at Seamus. Then he rounds on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd made you look good if helot it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry thinks this is so unfair, he opens his mouth to argue, but Ron kicks him from behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," Ron mutters as (Y/N) turn around to look at him, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As the first years climb the stairs out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racking and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week – why did Snape hate him so much? At least (Y/N) had won those ten points for Gryffindor.

"Cheer up," Ron tells Harry, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?" he asks.

(Y/n)'s POV

Hermione and I are walking up from the dungeons behind Harry and Ron after the end of Potions Class.

"I noticed something strange," Hermione says.

"What?" I ask.

"Professor Snape seems to like you a lot," Hermione says, looking at me with her brown eyes.

"That was kind of weird," I agree, looking forward, then back at Hermione.

"Maybe he was wondering how you got to be so good at Potions," Hermione suggests. "You were the only one of us with a perfect potion."

"Yeah, that must have been it," I say as we enter the Great Hall.

After lunch, the two of us walk outside to sit by the Black Lake. I see Ron and Harry walking down to Hagrid's Hut, and I hear a faint barking coming from the same direction.

"Hello (Y/n)," comes one, well two, voices.

I look up to see the Weasley twins standing above me and my sister.

"Hey Fred, George," I answer cheerfully.

"Whacha first years doing out here?" Fred asks.

"Well, the first week of school is over," Hermione begins, her frizzy hair blowing in the wind.

"So we're enjoying the last of the summer air," (Y/n) finishes for her sister.

"(Y/n), we have a question for you," George says.

"What?" I ask curiously.

Fred and George look at each other before saying in unison, "Do you like funeral marches.

Hermione bursts into laughter at the question, and Fred and George sit down beside the two of us.

"Well, of course," I say, grinning. "It's my favorite song," I begin to hum a slow funeral march, and the Weasley twins join in, Hermione exchanges a look with me, shrugs, then joins in.

Word Count: 2887 words

Well, I'll see you see on the next chapter.

See y'all!

Love,

Kaitlynn ❤️😍

#hermione granger #hermione granger x sister reader #harry potter various x reader #harry potter #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley

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ichikaakiyama · 4 years

Text

FIC: Untimely Distractions (Hawks x Female Reader; smut)

DISCLAIMERS: Usual ownership disclaimers apply. Characters that are underaged/minors in canon are automatically aged-up to young adult/adult in my work by default unless otherwise stated.

TITLE: Untimely Distractions

PAIRING: Hawks/Female Reader

RATING: Hard R/Mature

WARNINGS: Smut

- - - - -

Hawks is an incorrigible, distracting flirt. This isn’t an opinion - it’s just the truth.

The bad thing about it is that he knows it. The worst thing about it is when the charismatic bastard turns all that charm and beguiling energy on and aims it right at you for everyone in the Hero Public Safety Commission office to see. Like now, for example.

“Come on, it’s just drinks,” he says, hovering over the side of your desk with his hands planted on the tabletop, holding his weight, “I don't even drink that much, but i could take you to this ONE place, holy crap, they make this INSANE tropical sunrise cocktail. Also there's a cute bartender there who seems into some things.” The intentionally comical waggle of his bushy eyebrows elicits a tiny giggle from you that you’re unable to reign in in time.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol tonight?” you shoot back, continuing to work to try and convince him of disinterest on your part, “Or on some secret spying mission that no one else in this building is supposed to know about?”

“Well, I mean…” Hawks replies with a tiny shrug, “I’m sure I can find some time to--Wait, what do you know about my assignments?”

You can’t help but snort at his near carelessness. “Absolutely nothing, I’m sure,” you answer, feeding fresh sheets into your printer, “In any case, I’m busy tonight, as will you be. Besides,” you drop your voice a little, as if there isn’t a soul alive within hearing range who already knows that Hawks seems to like you a lot, “we’re supposed to be professionals.”

“When have you ever known me to be 100% professional at any given time?” he half-jokes, leaning in just as you sit back down. He laughs as you push him away. “Okay, fine. If not drinks, then lunch. Just a quick one. There’s an excellent yakitori place about five minutes from here, we can have a little spot all to ourselves, no extras and no distractions…”

You bat away a feather he had sent to tickle your cheek. “You’re a distraction, Hawks.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he retorts, and you can hear the smirk in his tone.

“You think so, do you?” you gently scoff as he leans in over the table and closer to you.

“You like me,” Hawks points out, his voice and tone hitting just the right lower octave to get you to finally look right at him, blushing indignantly.

You can feel how fiercely your cheeks are coloring. “I-” you stammer, “That’s not...I mean, I don’t--”

Hawks straightens up again, an almost insufferable grin of victory brightening his face. “I’ll pick you up at 11:50am,” he tells you, “Don’t work too hard now, baby bird.” The pet name and the wink he leaves with has you coughing on a slight choke of embarrassment.

The rest of your day is spent ducking your head, keeping busy and trying to pretend that no one else around you had heard your conversation with Hawks. You become so entranced in your own efforts to hide yourself from sneaky side-eyes and barely quieted giggles from your co-workers that you don’t realize what time it is until a gentle tapping on your cubicle wall lets you know it’s time for your lunch date.

You look up to see him leaning against one edge of the wall, arms crossed in front of him, a signature smirk plastered all over his smug face. “Hawks, I am busy,” you say with an audible tsk to drive home your point.

“Psh, no one’s ever too busy for yakitori,” Hawks points out.

“I mean, true,” you concede with a little sigh, “But-”

“Come oooon,” he whines, “What’s an hour? If you get crunched because I took you out on a lunch date, I promise to help you out so you don’t have to do overtime, then I’ll take you home myself so you get there faster. Deal?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “How the hell do you even know where I live?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hawks mutters with a small shrug, “Come ooooooon, kid. Yakitoriiiiiiiii.”

And he's just so annoyingly effing cute, doing stupid things with his bushy eyebrows and little wiggles of his hips, and he looks RIDICULOUS. You know he’s not going to take no for an answer.

“Fine,” you finally agree, “but just one hour. Then you come back and help me sort all of this out.”

“I promise,” Hawks replies, crossing his heart with a finger while holding his right hand up for emphasis.

To Hawks’ credit, the yakitori place is just as close as he had said, and the food is ridiculously good. Time flies nearly as fast as he does as you enjoy an almost uncharacteristically casual conversation about each other’s nothings - how work is, how your family is doing, when was the last time you made pastries and why didn’t you save him some. The food is gone before you even really realize it, and he doesn’t even let you pull your wallet out to pay. With a grin and a wink, for you and the waitress, he pays for everything, then offers you a hand to take to help you out of your seat and walk you back to the office. You blush a little, but you take it, and his smirk is noticeably softer when you do.

You don’t get too far, however, when he pulls you in close, winks and gives you a quick warning of “hang on, kid,” before his wings suddenly flare out and flap. Suddenly you're in the air, and he's got you safe and secure in the few seconds it takes him to fly you up to the roof of a nearby apartment building.

It doesn’t take you much longer to remember that the cheeky bastard lives here, of course he lives near the HSPC, and he, most likely, has had this planned the entire time.

“Jerk,” you snort, although you’re not exactly fighting the arm he has around your waist, keeping you flush against him.

“What?” he laughs, “I still have twenty minutes, don’t I?”

And he kisses you hard as he drags you into his room from the balcony, fingers working hurriedly to divest you of your bottoms.

“Fifteen,” you correct him, a little out of breath already from the kiss alone, "I'm not going back to the office looking like i just got rammed by a truck.”

"Well, better make it count then," he chuckles, and then you're on your back on his bed, and he's pulling you by the legs to the edge so he can pull your bottoms off and push your top up.

He wastes no time, diving right in, mouth eager and hungry, like a dying man savoring the first full meal he's had in years. Your legs are over his shoulders, one hand sliding up your body to squeeze at your breast while the other snakes around your thigh to rub at your clit like he's trying to start a fire with his thumb. He's a ravenous son of a bitch, moaning loud enough for you to feel, stopping every now and then just long enough to tell you how good you taste. He tells you to watch him devour you, but it's hard when his tongue feels that good and his fingers are experts of your body by now.

"You gonna come, babe?" he teases, rising from his knees to bend over you, and you're about to whine at the loss of contact when he cuts you off with a couple of fingers deep inside you, twisting and curling and stroking and spreading.

“If you're gonna come you better do it soon,” he teases with a laugh, “You don't want the office to know you got eaten out for lunch, do you?” And his hand is merciless with quick, deep thrusts that aim right where they need to, and you're crying out, launching a fist weakly into his shoulder, which just makes him chuckle.

He urges you to come, telling you he wants to feel you come with his fingers deep inside you, promising to lick you clean afterwards if you'll be good for him and come right fucking now.

Your back arches halfway up off the bed when you do, clutching at your own breast with one hand and digging nails into his shoulder and neck with the other, and he peppers you with little kisses, the softness of each a sharp contract to to how roughly he pushes his fingers into you as he tries to draw your orgasm out a little longer.

“You're so good for me,” he coos, kissing your lips gently as you come down from your high, “So fucking pretty, baby bird.” And you can't help but grab at his jacket and pull him in close and kiss him for real. You hate him, but you love him, but you hate him, but you love him, and he knows.

“Fuck you,” you say when you come up for air, and he just laughs a full laugh, the smug bastard, kissing you again before pulling you to your feet.

“You liked it.”

“Shut up.”

“You like me.”

“I love you.”

“...But?”

“But you're a smug dick and sometimes i don't know whether to punch you with my mouth or my fist.”

“You're so cute when you're ticked off.”

He helps you back into your clothes, making sure to give you tiny kisses where he can, and he's always like this, always so showy with his flirting but secretive with his real affection. You kind of understand it, but not really. You've never questioned it, just accepted it as part of who he is. But you can't help but wonder about it sometimes. Not that you’d ever bring it up; you’re more likely to get hit by lightning than ever get a straight answer for that out of him.

He flies you both back to the office just in the nick of time, and you just barely managed to put yourself back together while he, of course, didn't have to do much more than straighten his clothes a bit and give his hair a little shake. You can feel eyes on you as he walks you back to your office, and although you're a little self-conscious about it, it’s times like these that you kind of can't help but be a bit smug at the fact that everyone just knows that Hawks is into you without anyone ever having to say it out loud.

Before he lets you go, he pulls you into an abandoned, unvisited corner and kisses you again, and it's a real boyfriend kiss, with small sighs and gentle touches and warmth. You can't help but love that you get to see this side of him, knowing that very few people have or will.

“Dinner?” he asks, and the only thing softer than his tone is the hand he has on your cheek.

“You're not working late?” you ask, unconscious of the way you snuggle into the warmth of his palm.

“Not if you say yes to dinner,” he replies, the tiniest of smirks ghosting in the corner of his mouth.

“You think you're soooo cute, don't you?”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

“...Fine. Dinner.”

- - - - -

~ END. ~

#hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #hawks bnha #hawks fic #hawks x reader #ichi fics #rating: hard r

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lumos-solemn · 3 years

Text

Level 1 Mischief Makers

Summary : Harry, Ron and Hermione really needed a break, so they broke into Hogwarts. Reliving memories, they called it and they did. *Ron didn't quit Aurors*

**********************************************

It was a fine day for Harry as he read through different cases, analysing reports, looking at records sitting in his office just like any other day. As he was getting busy in one of the cases, Ron just barged into his cabin grinning ear to ear at him. Harry looked up from his files and raised an eyebrow at him as he sat opposite him pulling a chair.

"Why do I think you are planning something?", Harry asked making Ron grin wider.

"Because I am."

Harry raised his eyebrows at him in enquiry. "Lets break into Hogwarts!"

Harry blinked a few times thinking he misheard. But as Ron chuckled looking at his face, he knew he didn't imagine. "WHAT?"

"Harry, we have been working our butts for the past 3 months. We need a break. Lets do that!!! Come on...!!!"

Harry found it hard to believe he is really hearing that. He thought Ron lost his mind. "Ron? You okay, mate?", He asked feeling concerned.

Ron snorted at that, "Harry, I am serious!"

"What do you mean? Break into Hogwarts?"

"Look, I have been thinking about us. Me, you and Hermione. How we used to sneak off to hogsmeade and forest and all. And I realised its been long time since we had something like that. Really long time. So, what is more better that sneaking off to Hogwarts itself?", He grinned. "James told me the secret passageway from Honeydukes still works."

By now, Harry really believed that his best mate has gone crazy. "Ron, breaking to Hogwarts? Did you go crazy or what? And about us hanging out, we still come and go together and also hang out every fridays."

Ron sighed, "I know. But it doesn't feel same. Its like big adults sitting around and having a drink talking about work."

"We ARE big adults, Ron. You are turning 41 in few weeks. Remember?"

Ron groaned, "Oh.. Don't remind me that. I still don't get where my thirties went!"

Harry chuckled but then Ron suddenly furrowed his eyebrows at him, "Hey? Why are you like this? You weren't like this before. You sound like Hermione now!"

Harry sighed, "Okay! What do you want now?"

"I said it. Lets do that. It'll be great. Come on! Don't be a git!"

Harry thought for a while. Its true what Ron said. They were so absorbed in work and life that they indeed forgot the real fun of it. And he very well knew he will never regret visiting Hogwarts once again. "Okay! When?", He asked getting excited thinking about it.

Ron grinned, "Now!" And Harry's eyes widened.

"What? But I have work. Hey? Don't YOU have work?"

"I took half day off for us. Now come!"

Harry looked a little reluctant but then closed his files with a grin as Ron smirked.

They both walked towards the door when Harry asked, "What about Hermione? How you gonna convince her?"

Ron just smiled, "I don't know but I know we will!" And just like he said, Hermione at last agreed though it took all their efforts to talk her into it.

And the three of them apparated to Hogsmeade. There wasn't the usual bustle there when students come in. It wasn't the season. Harry and Hermione were about to walk in when Ron pulled them back and put a cloak over them. "Ron??", Hermione asked wide eyed. "Is that ours?", Harry chimed in.

"No, That's with James. This is Mad Eye's old one. Got it from Dung!", He winked.

Harry smiled while Hermione gasped. "But we could've just done a simple disillusionment charm on us! Why is this needed?", Hermione asked. "Wouldn't be the same then!", Ron replied.

They tried to squeeze into it but their feet were still outside. Somehow, they entered into the passage way and took off the cloak.

"We really did got too big!", Harry spoke while Hermione rolled her eyes.

They looked into the passage way and a wave of memories hit them. The first time when Harry came through there to sneak off to Hogsmeade and all the other times they went together. Slowly, they walked forward, the smile not leaving their faces.

"I wonder what Kids gonna say when they find out what we did!", Ron chuckled.

"Probably kill us for all the classes we gave them for sneaking out and breaking rules."

After what felt a long time, they finally reached the door and opened it only to welcome a familiar wave of air. It still felt home. After all these years, Hogwarts did welcome them home. Everything was same. Nothing has changed. They finally got out and stood there looking at hallways. It was empty, probably classes going on. "Hey! Put this on! Fast.", Hermione put the cloak around them and put a charm on their feet to make it invisible.

Slowly, they walked forward looking around, determined not to miss anything. They saw headless Nick floating around with the Fat Friar. They passed by the greenhouse and saw Neville teaching a bunch of 7th years. He looked so happy. Everyone did.

"What about we give Hagrid a visit?", Harry asked and the other two nodded excitedly. They passed the whomping willow and Ron and Harry shared a knowing smirk reminiscing their 2nd year. There were smoke coming out Hagrid's hut and they hurriedly walked eager to meet their big friend. They stood at the door and looked at each other, a smile on their lips.

They knocked and heard big steps from inside and within seconds, the door opened showing Hagrid, still big as ever with a kettle in one hand. He looked around confused and the trio pulled of the cloak making him jump a step back. "Blimey..-", He exclaimed clutching his heart with widened eyes. "Harry, Ron.. Hermione??"

"Hello Hagrid!!", They wished getting in and closing the door behind.

"What are you doing here?", He asked. "And why are you in an invisibility cloak?"

They grinned and sat on the chair inside. "Nothing. Just thought will pay you a visit when sneaked into Hogwarts!", Ron answered shrugging.

"Sneaking? What do you mean?"

"Hey! Don't tell me you don't know us!", Harry smirked.

"We thought it would be great if we just visited Hogwarts. You know..For old time's sake!", Hermione smiled.

Hagrid looked at the 3 of them as if trying to understand and broke into a warm smile. His eyes started tearing up as he sniffed so loudly.

The trio looked at each other and moved forward hugging him. No matter how much they grew, they still felt like little kids hugging him.

"I really missed you three visiting me like this!", Hagrid blew his nose into his towel sniffing as they broke apart.

They smiled, "We thought we sent our clones for your company. Didn't they work?", Ron asked.

Hagrid let out a loud laugh, "Oh..They do..James and Fred visits me often. Rose also comes occasionally and we talk about all the magical creatures. She's literally mini Ron with our Hermione's brains."

Ron looked sideways at his wife fondly which didn't go unnoticed by Harry or Hagrid. "Who knew these two were going to end up like this?", Hagrid looked at them fondly. "I knew!", Harry said shrugging and they all shared a laugh.

After a few minutes of chats and having Hagrid's rock cake and tea, they left his home putting the cloak back on. Hermione was unusually silent for some moments as the 3 stood near the forest. "Hermione?", Harry called her out who suddenly came out of her trance and looked at Harry and Ron

"What's wrong?". Ron asked.

"I miss this. So much that I didn't even realise. I feel bad thinking that at the end of the day, we have to be back to our boring works.", Hermione spoke making both Ron and Harry look at her wide eyes.

"Who are you and what did you do to our Hermione?", Ron exclaimed dramatically earning a scoff from her.

"But seriously, You are calling work 'boring'? ", Harry asked.

Hermione chuckled, "What I meant was It can never be as interesting and fun as this. I miss our Hogwarts days. If feels long gone."

"It is long gone.", Harry said observing the calmness of the lake. "You are right. I didn't even realise I was missing this so much. I am happy that Ron thought of this idea.", He looked at his best mate who was also staring at the black lake with a smile.

"Oh Don't mind me. I know I am a genius.", He said pulling off an arrogant smirk making both Harry and Hermione snort.

They stood there for god knows how long at last, Hermione spoke, "You know we cannot stay here the whole day, We have to go. Come on.", She stood up and pulled both of them by their shirt as they reluctantly got up hastily adjusting the cloak.

"Why don't we go and meet kids?", Ron suggested.

"I don't think that will be possible Ron! They might be in the classes and also you know how its gonna turn out if we reveal ourselves?"

"We can try though!", Harry said.

"But-", Hermione tried to protest but the men pulled her before she could say anything.

They were on the corridors when they saw the headmistress coming on their way. They tried to stay silent but Harry accidently stepped on Ron's feet causing him to yelp aloud and Mcgonagall to stop in her tracks and look at their direction. She looked closely and moved towards them expecting students under invisibility cloaks. But before she could reach them, Harry pulled both of his mates and ran.

They heard Mcgonagall shouting behind them and heard footsteps behind them which they realised of Filich's but they didn't stop as they ran as fast as they could towards the one-eyed witch laughing in between. They saw Peeves zooming behind them above Filich shouting something. As they were about to reach the statue, Hermione pulled out her wand and muttered Dissendium causing it to open and they entered into the passage closing it behind. The 3 stood clutching their hands to their chest, panting heavily. A while later, they looked at one another and broke into laughter that echoed through the passage.

"That was...", Harry started once their breathing became normal.

"So..us..", Ron grinned. "I am surprised that we are still able to escape just the way we used to when we were 11."

They looked at one another and there was a sad expression on their face with a mixture of happiness and joy.

"I really don't feel like leaving!", Hermione admitted. Ron gave her a sad smile and wrapped his arms around her bringing her into a hug. Harry looked at both of them and smile. "Why are you standing there? This is not couple hug. This is Best mates hug. Join in!", Ron said with a smug face as the other two chuckled and Harry joined in hugging them tight.

"Okay. Now we really have to leave.", Ron broke the hug and they nodded. They turned to have a last look at the passage door before proceeding to walk.

"What do you think Minerva would say if she caught us today?", Harry asked halfway.

"Probably Mr Potter and Weasley, Detention for sneaking into Hogwarts without warning. And Miss Granger, you too although I didn't expect it from you.", Ron imitated her voice making Harry and Hermione laugh.

#harry potter #harry x ginny #ron weasley #hermione granger #golden trio #rarry brotp #harmione brotp

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thatsbucknasty · 3 years

Text

she used to be mine (viii) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are open c:

it’s been a while and I’m sorry it took me so long to update, I hope you’re still enjoying this!

chapter 8: bad idea

What was I thinking? I can’t get involved with my doctor, no matter how sweet and handsome he is. I’m still legally a married woman. I don’t need any more drama right now. I gotta focus on carrying my baby to full term and building a life for us both.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to- please forgive me, I know technically you’re still married and I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you feel uncomfortable with”.

He stands up quickly and puts effort to keep himself a few feet away from me, and I find myself yearning for him to close the distance but also grateful cause right now I need space. I need to breathe.

“Please leave, Bucky”. I plead and my voice isn’t cold but he still looks at me with the saddest puppy eyes in history and my heart breaks as I watch him leave the room.

“Where are the cookie trays? I can’t find anything in this kitchen, I leave for a few days, that’s it, just a couple of days and nothing’s in its place!”

“Ooh, someone’s cranky today” Sam thinks he’s being funny.

“Sam, don’t. She hasn’t had a single cup of coffee in months now, I think the withdrawal symptoms are finally showing up, plus you should never call a pregnant woman ‘cranky’ if you want to preserve your well being”.

“I’m right here, you know?” I yell at them.

“What happened, sweetie? You seem really upset”.

“It’s nothing, I just gave myself a deadline and I’m stressing over it, that’s all”.

“A deadline? What for? Do you need a planner too? Cause I accidentally bought two of them, so if you want-”.

“Thanks, Wanda, I don’t need a planner. The deadline’s for my savings. I have to make 36 pies today and another 36 tomorrow if I want to pay the hospital for my past bill. I already have more than half of it and if I have that bill dealt with by the weekend, I can start saving for the birth again”.

“I think I have a headache, that’s a lot of maths for me”. Sam chimes in from across the kitchen.

“Y/N, we already told you we can help you out! You don’t need to be doing all of this on your own and working extra time while pregnant isn’t exactly great for the baby”. Nat scolds me with her mom friend voice but I already told them, this is my problem and I’ll deal with it alone, I just roll my eyes at her and continue with my task.

“Okay, we know she’s stubborn and won’t let any of us pay for anything. I respect how hard working she is but now’s not the time to deny help from her friends”. Natasha explains to everybody in the room while Y/N is baking her 7th batch of pies where she can’t hear them. The diner’s closed and there are no patrons left, so the three of them are sitting in a booth.

“Do you think something happened with Doctor Ocean Eyes back at the hospital? First she seemed happy to be left alone with him and when we got back she was packing her stuff and screaming at us to take her away from there, it’s all so confusing”. Wanda scratches her head and Sam just sighs, sinking into the booth, clueless.

“Maybe, but she won’t talk about it”. Nat responds.

“What if someone asked Doctor Pretty what happened?” Wanda grabs Nat’s hand excited about her genius idea.

“I don’t know honey, that could make her even angrier”.

“I’ll do it. I’ll go talk to him”. Sam straightens up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Y/N is like a sister to me, I should go see this Doctor of hers and demand answers!” He stands up, decisiveness in his eyes and Wanda cheers him up.

“Good morning, ma’am. Is Doctor Barnes here?” Sam walks up to nurse Maria’s desk.

“Sure, he’s with a patient. Does your wife have an appointment?”

“My wife? No, no, I’m just here to talk to him, I won’t be long, I promise”.

“Oh, well if you could just sit over there and wait till he’s free I can let him know you’re here to see him, are you a friend of his?”

“Uh, yeah sure”. He’s nerves make him lie to the nurse but she’s too busy reading a crime novel to pay much attention to his fidgeting.

“Doctor Barnes? Your ten o’clock called to say she’s running late but your friend Sam’s here to see you”. Maria announces and then leaves, while Sam enters the office.

“My friend Sam? I don’t- oh, hi”.

“Hi”. Sam stands next to the door awkwardly.

“So, you work at Nick’s Diner?”

“What? How did you-”

“Your uniform. Looks a lot like Y/N’s”.

“Right, yeah. Listen, I know this might seem weird and maybe it isn’t my place but-” Sam sighs, struggling to find the right words while Bucky eyes him, also nervous. A tall, muscular dude comes into his office, obviously there to talk about Y/N, he’s a little intimidated.

“Y/N’s one of my best friends. We’ve been there for each other since high school, I’ve seen her at her happiest and at her most miserable, and right now she is miserable. We don’t know why and she totally closed off and won’t let anyone in, which is not like her at all, so, if you know anything, please tell me. The girls say she was fine when they left her with you and when they got back she was freaking out. Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Well, I don’t-”

“Please man, I know we don’t know each other, but I need you to be honest”.

Bucky lets out a breath he was holding and sits on top of his desk. He looks defeated and even though Sam doesn’t know much about him he can tell, Bucky looks as miserable as Y/N.

“Yeah something happened”. Bucky looks down at his shoes.

“And?”

“And she said it was a bad idea. A mistake. I offered to help her out with the hospital bill and she accepted”.

“She did? Huh”:

“Yeah but then we kissed and I made things awkward, then she freaked out and told me to forget it, said she could pay her own bills and didn’t need anybody, called the nurses to tell ‘em she wanted to be discharged and took off”.

Sam could hear the pain in his voice but didn’t say anything.

“She’s important to me and I just wanted to let her know but I understand how it can be difficult for her to trust me”.

“Well, tell her that”.

“Nah, I think it’s best for me to just give her some space”.

“No, dude. Space is overrated, she needs to hear this from you. Hey man, I can tell you’re a decent guy. Nicer than Quentin for sure, and I can also tell you care about Y/N, she’s a tough gal and she can very well manage on her own, but I know she cares about you too. And if no one of you morons will take the first step toward something real and good, you’re gonna regret it”.

Bucky let out a laugh and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No ofense, but you’re both pretty stupid”. Sam smiles at him.

“Thanks”.

“Well, are you gonna talk to her?”

“Yeah, I’ll stop by the diner later tonight”.

“Great then! My job here is done. Good luck and don’t let her scare you away, underneath the tough surface lies a soft cheeseball who actually likes you back, she just needs a little push”.

“Thank you-”

“Sam, Wilson”.

“Bucky”.

They shake hands and Sam leaves. Bucky feels a weight lift off his chest and the small hope of seeing Y/N again begins to overflow his mind with memories of her smile, the shape of her hands and the smell of sugar and butter. He has something to look forward to today and that’s such a relief for him.

He’s spent the last couple of weeks moping around the hospital, counting the days on the calendar for Y/N’s next appointment which isn’t for another four weeks. But now he’s giddy and excited cause that wait has shortened and he’ll see her in just a few hours. ‘Should I bring her flowers?’, he thinks. ‘No, I haven’t asked what her favorite flowers are yet’. He’ll think of something. He’ll make things right and get his girl tonight. His girl.

chapter 9: you matter to me

#waitress au #she used to be mine #waitress musical #waitress!reader #doctor!Bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #nina writes #marvel au #bucky barnes

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bumbershots · 3 years

Text

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FIVE: A SPECIAL DAY

Author’s note: Hello! We have finally reached the awaited date between Harry and Alma. I was really excited for this chapter, hopefully you will enjoy it as much as I did, forgive me in advance for any mistakes, my beta reader (my boyfriend) was unavailable, so this is a good time to say that if anyone out there has the time and willingness to beta read any future chapters send me an ask or message to let me know. Enjoy! (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.6K **

Harry wakes up feeling excited, nervous and hungry. He takes care of the latter, decides to make some blueberry pancakes, turns out he can't eat more than two and a cup of coffee. Not that the pancakes weren't great, in fact they were fantastic, he even decides to brag about them on an Instagram story that is published for his close friends only. Nick quickly replies to it with a laughing emoji.

You should take a Tupperware full of them to your date ;)

The reason behind his excitement and nerves make his heart race, he decides to type in a polite 'fuck off' to his mate before heading to the shower. Under the warm spray of water he tries to sort out his thoughts. Harry doesn’t want to think about his upcoming trip to California.

It was necessary for the album or so he thought last week, after going through a box with the very few memories he kept from his ex. He wasn’t in a right state of mind then, he feels pathetic. The only reason why he wanted to spend time in Los Angeles was because everything there —from the pavement to the sky— was tainted by her.

Why would he want to go back to that place where the constant reminder of his pain was literally living in the same neighbourhood? Because it would provide him the cathartic release he was looking for. That’s the line he used after Sarah and Mitch tried to dissuade him from flying across the Atlantic and Harry was so proud of himself when it worked.

That very same day, he got the first text from Alma, it was the address like she promised. ‘In case one of your talents isn’t stumbling upon my work place ;)’ the second text read and Harry had to endure Sarah’s questionnaire about the girl that made him blush with a mere wink emoji. Not that he minded talking about her, he could go on all day.

He usually preferred a shower before breakfast, usually even work out before then but well, hunger clouded his judgement earlier today. Even with that taken care of that dread still niggled him away. Just slightly. So, he decided to pick up his guitar for a moment and strummed. There was no real intention to play seriously, or to write anything down on the journal by his desk. It was more of something he enjoys too much not to do it, a way to keep his hands and mind busy, faffing around with chords. With a bit of luck he might come up with a song, a tune which just worked, that just... clicked.

Contrary to what people might believe, genius didn't strike him here and then. Not like when he'd come up with Sign of the times or Two ghosts. But finding a neat little pattern of chords a good thirty minutes later makes him smile, it's something he can work with. It needs a little polishing from Mitch and company, sure, but it has a good rhythm. He scribbled down some notes on his journal and sent the audio to his fellow musician.

Maybe he will find the words in one of the old notebooks that are somewhere in the other room, perhaps on the ones that are still on his unpacked suitcase from Japan. Silently he also hoped to find the lyrics around London. He had lived in the capital for a few years now, but he had been different then. Now he likes to think that he's a man, no longer the teenager from the boy band or the shiny new solo artist. He has new perspectives, sights, smells in this new home of his. New ideas.

Harry gazes out his bedroom window; the view is not great –mostly of the other houses in the complex. His mind focused on the cloudy sky, confused because he swore it was sunny just a few minutes ago, can bet on his life that he woke up to dazzling sunshine rays of a warm yellow colour peeking through that same window. He puts his guitar away on the bed with care and makes a beeline to his wardrobe. He needs to figure out what to wear, pronto.

Skipping her afternoon kip was not something Alma did, it was a rare occurrence which meant one thing: something special was happening.

Walking down Oxford Street, trying to decide where to get some lunch without a care in the world, that was until the calmness faded, when her schedule for the day hit her.

She had a date with Harry. A date, with Harry Styles. It was weird to go by his full name in her head, she couldn't bring herself to call or think about him as The Harry Styles.

Maybe she'd settle to call him Harry the tube guy.

The clock on her phone showed that it was no longer single figure hours, she needed to get some food now or starve until her shift was over, and then he would have to watch her feast at whatever place he chose. Alma groaned, thought how ridiculous it was to worry about him watching her eat. Harry was a grown man; of course he knows that women eat too, right?

Walking into the nearest Sainsbury's she decided to take a deep breath. He's just some guy, she concluded after paying for her chicken baguette. Nothing to stress about.

Harry showered again, while belting out some classic pop tunes. Namely Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears, something that in the past he'd swear blind you'd misheard and it was actually The Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd. But he'd come to terms that he liked what he liked.

Towel clad in the bedroom, trying to shirk off hypothermia, he was quick to put on some pants and jeans, before throwing on some simple white tee proclaiming some fading band name. He uses a dry clean towel from the closet and attempts to dry his hair, as he styles his flopped mop the thought of a haircut crosses his mind. It was getting a bit long.

One last look at the clock and he is ready to leave. "You'll be fine. Trust me." He quietly speaks to himself before closing the last few buttons of his green parka and fixing the newsboy cap on his head.

When he walks out of Colindale tube station, a little earlier than half past five, he sees the bakery from her instructions just below the large modern building Alma was kind enough to describe. She was right; the bakery is right across the street, he waits for the green man to light up to cross, shoving his hands in his pockets. The huge front windows of the establishment allow Harry to see her behind the till, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. She looks better than she did three weeks ago. He hesitates about going in for a few minutes, but feels it ought to be better than to lurk on the street.

Alma can feel his presence the moment he sets foot into the shop, her eyes are drawn to him and a content close lipped smile is the best greeting he could ask from her. The only customer in the place can feel the shift in the atmosphere when they lock eyes. So, picking up her bag full of baked goods, she steps out and leaves them alone.

"Sorry if I'm too early." He begins while she takes off her apron and hangs it in the back wall.

"You're right on time," Alma says after checking her watch, "I'm off Carlos, see you tomorrow!" She hollers to the employee that is taking a non-allowed nap in the back. Harry holds the door open for her and follows out of the warm store. "Shall we take the tube?" At his affirmative response, she then takes out her Oyster card and leads the way.

The café was not somewhere Alma expected Harry to go, the little shop with soothing music and simple stools full of the scent of organic coffee brewing is dazzling and unique. A bit like him, she thinks. She liked it. It reminded her of the places she used to frequent when she had recently moved into the city.

Harry orders a black coffee at the counter before asking Alma what she'd like.

"A cappuccino, and remember I'm paying for our food," she hands him a tenner that he reluctantly takes from her.

"Absolutely," he iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds two salted caramel cupcakes handing over the cash. "If you get a seat, I'll bring it over."

Alma thanks him before scampering across the room to sit at the back two seat table tucked in the corner. It was right beside the large back window, dimly lit. Before she sat, she removed her signature burgundy coat and Harry couldn't help his eyes being drawn to certain aspects of his companion. Nice arse, he remarked with a raise of his brows before the woman behind the counter tells him for the third time that his order is ready, a look of disdain as she probably caught his gaze. Giving her a sheepish smile to appease her, he manages to balance the two plates and mugs in his hands and walk over to the table.

"They asked if you wanted whipped cream or foam and I settled for foam, hope that's not a problem." He plonks himself on the seat across from her, removing his parka in a clumsy manner before hanging it in the back of the chair.

"No problem, I actually despise–

"Whipped cream, yeah, I kind of remembered what you told me about that birthday party of yours," the green eyed lad finishes for her and scratches the back of his neck. "You know with that dare..."

Her eyes flickered down to the cupcakes laid out before them and she started picking the caramel out of one, hoping to hide the nerves his words caused.

"Right enough, yeah... I can't believe you remembered that or that I told you about it." She chuckled nervously at the anecdote she chose to share with him, it was a bit inappropriate due to the amount of vomit around it, literally. But he shrugged with a charming smile. No big deal. "Nice place," she noted.

"I know it's a bit of a strange choice. It doesn't strike me as, you know, the kind of place you put so much effort into for a first date..." Harry stops talking and now his eyes meet the cupcake in front of him. "Bollocks I must have sounded so daft, I'm sorry." Lucky for him, she doesn't laugh, instead she reaches out to stroke his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing to be sorry about, I can be quite daft so..."

"I doubt that Miss suave." He gets a laugh out of her then, one that is almost a snort and earns a few glances from other customers.

"I’m far from it! Honestly, I once accidentally stepped on dog shit and didn't notice until my date couldn't bear the stink anymore and checked my shoe, in a very fancy restaurant. Terrible story. Trust me, I can be daft." Alma held up her hands and the musician giggled at her.

"Promise you won't laugh?" he raised an eyebrow at her, pleading. She promised. "Well, I kind of always wanted to have a first date here. It's always one of the first places I visit when I'm back in London, the food is amazing, and service is excellent. Came here completely hung-over after my twenty-first birthday party. I guess it has a lot of good memories." Pinked cheeks gave away Harry's embarrassment, he wanted to relax and for her to be more comfortable around him.

With a sincere smile Alma placed her hand over his resting on the table. "I think that is very sweet." This reply was not what he had expected; she leant in and beckoned him closer. "For your information Harry, this is exactly a great place for a first date." Up close he swore the darkness of her eyes were about to swallow him whole and spit him out to an alternate universe. He swallowed hard and took a sip of his coffee to distract himself a bit. Perhaps caffeine was not a good choice on a day where his heart was speeding so frequently.

"Did you have a good day today at work?" he asks with a familiarity that Alma can get used to.

"Yeah, had a bit of free time to plan my next video blog. It's been ages since I uploaded one." She bashfully admits. "This cupcake was delicious, a great flavour choice." And just like that they fall into easy conversation until their cups are drained. The place is almost empty around quarter to eight and they both know it's almost closing time –the death glances from the employees behind the counter gave it away. They put on their garments again before leaving.

Harry makes his way to the door expecting Alma to follow. Instead she first gathered up their mugs and plates, to place them neatly on the counter and thanked the three workers behind it with a genuine smile. Harry looked surprised; she didn't quite have to do that. She noticed.

"Just being polite," she stated the obvious, before walking under his arm that held open the door. He chose not to comment and fought back a smile.

They stood outside, not really sure of what to do next. Usually he would suggest going back to his place. It was near, but he watched her yawn discreetly and he suddenly remembered that she had a real job, well actually jobs in plural. He broke the silence.

"It was nice to see you again Alma." He meant it and she smiled as she toyed with the buttons of her coat. British summer weather was hardly cold, but today it seemed to be punishingly windy. Harry near gave a shiver, but instead took a deep breath before speaking again. It was now or never. "It'd be quite great, if I could... I'd like to see you again. Please." He shifted on one foot, nearly drowned in the silence that followed.

"I'd quite love to see you again," Harry gave a slight gulp, very slight and got out strength from the words she spoke to take a big risk, the first of today.

He stepped closer and cradled her face in his hands before leaning down and kissing her cheek. It wasn't the full on kiss he wanted to give her. But it is something he'd been dying to do since he first saw her today, something he hoped would make clear how attracted he was to her. Harry smelled like coffee and caramel. God this man's lips are prettier up close, she thought right before he straightened up.

She stayed close to him before speaking again. A low murmur so that the passing London traffic wouldn't steal her words from him.

"This was an amazing date."

Alma walked with him the long distance of one mile to the tube station, their hands brushing against each other. He was desperate to just hold hers, kiss her soft knuckles and ask about the lightning-shaped scar on her little finger. But decided against it, he knew that West Hampstead was not a common area for paparazzi, but he didn't want to risk her. Especially after the splendid afternoon they just shared.

They said their farewells.

"I'll call you," he said again. She warned that he better, before entering the station, he took great delight in watching her walk away from him, his gaze falling once more to her bum now covered by the coat. Harry spun on his heel and walked the short distance to his home.

Surely London could help him find the lyrics for that tune, this city definitely had something.

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