men at some time are masters of their fates @montrose-snow - Tumblr Blog

location: flourish and blotts.

Flourish and Blotts was still a favorite spot for Andrew. It still brought back that feeling of excitement that set in before school started. While it might seem odd, it really wasn’t. There was more downtime than one would think during training. People liked to think he was just a damn jock but he wasn’t. Not really. He may not be the brightest but he still enjoyed learning. Plus, it was easier to read something while getting healed. So, another trip to the bookstore it was.

He was moving down one of the aisles, eyes scanning the titles as he moved. One caught his eye and he reached for it, hitting the hand of another. It was only then he realized someone else was there with her. “You take it,” he said with a small smile. He already had three books and he was sure there was another in the shop for him. Even if not, he already had a good number. “I already have plenty.”

#ashesstart

niko-ashes·:

where: anywhere with: @montrose-snow

Niko didn’t like to smoke often, but there had been occasions, where training had been particularly brutal or his mind had been overly noisy, where smoking had helped calm the vibrations that came from his overstimulated body, settling his nerves and mellowing him out so that he could sleep that night. That slightly chilly January evening, he was sitting by the edge of the Magpies practice pitch, staring up at the stars and attempting to think about nothing but the upcoming seasons matches and the plays he needed to perfect. He would not think on the recent death of the Minister, or the fact that it had been the second time he had seen that ethereal looking snake staining the sky.

“You know, if you tell coach I’m out here, you’d be a terrible teammate and an even worse friend?” he smirked, glancing up at the figure who had appeared out of nowhere, looming over him. He held out the cigarette in offering. “Want some?”

It was normal for him to go out to the pitch after practice. He couldn’t just come down from practice the way some of his teammates did. It was a lot harder for him than he cared to admit. He thought over every little thing he did wrong, what he could have done better. It was easier to him to visualize what he could do if he was actually looking at the field. He hadn’t expected to see Niko there. He should have, really. They weren’t the best of friends but he still liked the guy. It was hard not to considering they were still on the same team after all these years. He shrugged his shoulders before taking a seat next to him. It was instinct to take the cigarette.

“It’s not my place to dictate what you do,” he said after taking his own drag. He wasn’t one for smoking most of the time. But, like almost everything else, he did what others around him were doing. “Everyone’s got a vice.” He wasn’t sure what his was if he was being honest. Hiding in his room? Obsessively pouring over everything he’s done to see why he’s not better?

twcntythrcc·:

“I mean, I’m a little hurt,” Podric replied, returning the pout he was receiving from Andrew. “I’ve been hooting at you for like a whole minute, mate, I don’t know how you didn’t see me.” Maybe Podric hadn’t been calling the man’s name, out of respect for the poor disguise (it wasn’t poor, really, Podric just wasn’t sure if they were hiding or not), but it seemed unusual not to look when hooted at. “But not physically, so I’ll accept your apology if it means I can get ten whole minutes with you. I never see you anymore, what gives?”

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. He really did mean it. “We’ve been doing the press tour and practices. So many practices.” He always had more free time when she season started. More breaks and chances to actually see his friends. “I had a three hour signing today at Triple Q. I think my hand is going to fall off.” He waved it around dramatically. He never was one to downplay himself. “How about we go get a drink and you can tell me everything that’s been happening since I went into my quidditch hole.”

isamacmillan·:

“I’ll be alright,” Isabella insisted, not wanting Andrew to fret too much. She could heal her palm and her wrist without much issue, even if it was sometimes awkward to perform the spell on herself. It was a benefit to her training and education, and she was thankful for it even as she wined as he helped her up, the movement jostling and uncomfortable. “You should be careful, but it was an accident, Andrew. I’m not angry.” She promised, noticing that he seemed genuinely bothered by the ordeal. She felt bad. She hadn’t meant to make him upset. She let him take the books, hoping there would be a way to save them from the damage of her tea. The pages would dry no doubt, but would the ink had bled? “That’s very kind of you to offer,” She began, ready to decline, but the idea of having an escort home wasn’t unappealing. She felt jittery and for the first time in awhile, going home seemed to be the best course of action. Normally she liked being out and about, she’d gone stir crazy in her home, but she wanted to be back there now.

“You can take me home, thank you.” She agreed at last, smiling as he removed the tea stain from her gown. She glanced down, pleased with the results, even though she still ached, and knew she would feel a bit sore come morning too. “Thank you,” She offered again, laughing a little. “I don’t doubt your uniforms are a sight to behold after a practice or match. Are you ready for the season to be underway?” She asked, though it was early. This time of year was focused more on promotion, training, conditioning, and strategizing. She wasn’t sure if he liked that time or not, though he didn’t seem particularly enthused about the signing, so she had an idea.

He nodded his head. Honestly, taking her home was the least he could do. Considering what he had done, he owed her more than that. He would need to figure out something to do for next practice. Was a fruit basket too much? O not enough? Probably jewelry. Girls liked that right? He really should know this by now. He held his arm out for her to take after grabbing the books with his other arm. “Would it be more comfortable for you to apperate or floo?” He hadn’t been to her home before so he was trying to be nice by letting her choose. It would be rude to do something that might hurt her even more.

“I’m ready for the season,” he said with no hesitation. He much preferred playing to all this. He would still do it, sure. Especially for the kids. He preferred them to most. During the season it was just a quick interview after the game. Maybe something the next day. But that was it. It wasn’t hours and hours of trying to entertain people and be what they wanted. It was too much most of the time. “We’ve been practicing some new moves that I think might win us the cup this year.”

vulcancarrow:

–

Vulcan examined the ring seriously. Honestly the girl had done a pretty neat job of it. Diana would’ve approved. “She made it herself, it’s only polite to say yes. Even if she then tragically broke your heart in favor of responsibly finishing her chores.” He said, grinning now. Vul could definitely understand why Andrew had so many fans. “Clearly we have to cheer you up now. Quite the tragedy. Come on, I know all the best shortcuts outta this place. You don’t spend years dodging the media without learning a few tricks.”

–

A bright smile grew on Andrew’s face. He loved his friends, he really did. But there were times where they didn’t really get his aversion to everyone. It was hard to explain but it seemed with Vulcan, he didn’t have to. It was nice. He nodded once, waving his hand to let Vul lead the way. “I am at your mercy.” Was that too forward? Maybe. But he could very much play it off later. He wasn’t known to be the smartest person. “Just don’t make it hurt too much.” Okay that was a little too much. “Sorry. It’s....there was a lot of people today and it’s made everything sort of jumbled up here.” He waved his hand around his head. “I’ve never been the best talker.”

vulcancarrow:

–

What was that noise? Vulcan carefully packed away how it made his stomach wiggle. Supposedly that had been a laugh, so Vulcan could run with that. No harm in making friends laugh. “How about this: I promise to smuggle you past any middle-aged women we see, and we’ll go flying and get a drink. Sound alright to you?”

–

“My hero.” He was kidding. Maybe. Not really. The idea of being able to leave and do the only thing he really knew how to do was the best idea. Or at least it was the best idea he had for the moment. “You have no idea how many times I’ve had to politely decline people today. Well I take that back, I did tell a little girl I would marry her. She gave me a ring made out of a flower.” He held his hand up, showing Vul the ring. “How could I say no?” He was a sucker for the kids. Anytime one was around, he did what he could to make them smile. “But she had to go home to feed her kneazle so sadly, I was left at the altar.”

vulcancarrow:

–

Vulcan laughed, reaching out to steady the man they considered a friend. A cute friend who happened to be quite fit, but a friend first and foremost. Vul didn’t think they had many of those. “Trust me, Snow, it would take more than a bump to rattle me. You however, look like you could use a race or maybe a personal bottle of vodka.”

–

“I could probably use both.” He gave what could only be described as a chuckle. Was it actually a chuckle? It was a weird noise that’s for sure. He liked Vulcan. He was a nice guy and really cute. But well...Andrew had been in enough locker rooms to know men were just as attractive as women. The last thing he wanted to do was assume so it was better to just be friendly. “Signings go for so long. And there are too many women who could be my mother asking for my owl address.”

isamacmillan·:

Isa tumbled to the cobblestone ground, her bag and tea falling along with her as Andrew bumped into her. He was much larger than she was, but she hadn’t been paying attention herself. She hissed as her hand connected with the stone, the skin tearing as it scraped against the ground, but more she was worried about the tenderness in her wrist. She knew better than to try to catch her fall, but it had been instinctual. Her tea had spilled over her gown, and over the new books she’d picked up not moments before from Whizz Hard’s. She often read books before publication, having met the current owner through Arabella. It was something she enjoyed greatly, and now they were stained and ruined with tea.

Her eyes watered but she shook her head immediately. “No no, I’m fine.” She lied, offering a wavering smile as she moved to sit up again. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Fancy meeting you here though, Andrew. I thought you were stuck today, in your signing event?” She wondered, recalling the schedule in the Magpies office. She worked around it more often than not.

Andrew shook his head. “No you’re not fine.” He moved to help her up, watching her face carefully. “I’ve got to start watching where I’m going.” He could do that on the pitch. That was easy. But on the ground, that’s harder. “I’ve always been a right knob when not on a broom.” He felt terrible. He hated hurting people. It’s why he wasn’t a beater. He took the books from her carefully before taking her hand. “Let me take you home. Or at least take you for a drink.”

Once they were up, he looked her over. There was tea on her dress and he grabbed his wand. “I’ve gotten pretty good at removing blood stains from my clothes. Tea should be easy.” He cast, smiling as the stain left. “See? One spell I’m pretty good at.”

Location: Diagon Alley

Normally, he hated these things. Not that he didn’t like meeting fans. That he loved, actually. But these organized events where he had to sign everything possible for hours. Take pictures with everyone. Turn down women three times his age who said he just needed someone to take care of him. He had thrown a jacket over his jersey, hoping for a moment of peace. He was hoping to get a drink or four. Four sounded better, really. He was walking towards the Leaky when he started to think about the afternoon. It was only after the fact he realized he had bumped into someone. “Merlin’s beard, I’m so sorry.” He gave them the best puppy dog eyes he could. They usually got him out of things. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt are you?”

#ashesstarter

location: Shafiq Estate (Evening Party)

Andrew was only here because he had to be. Well....not really had to be but all his friends and family were here. The idea of being alone on New Year’s just seemed to depressing compared to the alternative. But he looked the part in his own way. A fun suit he had gotten from Muggle London, black and white of course. A nice pinstripe that nobody could say didn’t meet the dress requirements. At least he hoped so. He made his way towards where the drinks were being served, standing in the line. “Please tell me they have something besides champagne.” He scrunched his nose up as he spoke. “It makes me burp too much and I doubt that would be acceptable while in proper company.”

#ashesstart #ashesevent003

Location: Diagon Alley, Christmas Eve

Christmas was awesome. Andrew didn’t care how old he got-he would always think it. Even though he loved the holiday, he knew it made his dad upset. It was hard on him. He knew that. Even though it had been almost twenty years, his mother leaving was too much. It’s part of the reason he found himself in the Alley on Christmas Eve. He’d have to be with his family all the next day and he loved them. But well...it was hard to see his dad that way. He was in one of his Quidditch jackets, not even realizing it. He was looking in one of the shop windows when he felt a tug on the jacket. He looked down and saw a kid, no more than six he had to guess. He asked for an autograph, much to the shock of his mother. He quickly obliged, smiling brightly as he spoke to the child for a few moments. The pair left and he felt eyes on him. “It’s Christmas. If I can’t make a kid smile for a few minutes, that’s got to put me on the Naughty List.”

#ashesstarter

It wasn’t that Andrew never got drunk. Far from it, really. He just typically did it after a game with the team or in his apartment. The bar scene just wasn’t what he liked. At least not without the whole team with him. But this was a special occasion. This was Christmas. His name practically demanded he loved the holiday. He did. Mostly. Sort of. That was probably why he had so much to drink. That and Abe was always nice to him. He was walking down the main street in Hogsmeade, whistling the Christmas carol that had been on at the Hog’s Head. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a snap of his fingers. He made his way towards Honeydukes and sighed softly. “They should make cookies,” he said as he looked into the window. “A nice, warm sugar cookie would really hit the spot right now.”

#ashesstarter #ashes open starter

isamacmillan·:

Being assigned to the Magpies currently certainly had it’s charm. The personality of each of the players never ceased to amuse her. They were all so different and yet there were certain things that ran true amongst professional quidditch players. A serious lack of concern for the very thing allowing them to be professional quidditch players sat high toward the top of the list. Still, she smiled, greeting Andrew with courtesy and professionalism. “As that may be, I’m still required to do a thorough physical, Mr. Snow. Surely you understand, rules are rules.” She insisted, “But I promise to be as quick as I can, and as fair. If you’re ready to return to practice, I’ll get you cleared as quickly as I can.” She reassured, moving to stand closer.

She observed him first, eyes looking over his frame for obvious physical signs of injury. As she looked, she paused, writing down a few things at a time on her clipboard. “Alright, let’s see here,” She hummed, moving to take his arm in hand. She was gentle as she checked, lips pressed together as she noted what she suspected would be tenderness for him. “I’d like to see some maneuvers before I consider clearing you. You don’t mind coming outside with me, do you?” She asked, knowing she’d be most likely to determine his stability in motion, rather than with the simple physical at the exam table. If he was as ready as he claimed to be, he’d have no issue demonstrating basics for her, after all, and she didn’t feel it was too risky given his current state to request it of him.

“Please call me Andrew, darling. Mr. Snow is my father. I’m sure he would appreciate being called that but he’s also very old and very proper.” She was probably older than him. Being a mediwitch was much more training than a quidditch player. Clearly she was much smarter, too. Both things were enough to make sure she knew the formalities could be left at the door. At least when it came to names. “Only consider clearing me? I’m absolutely gutted.” He stood up, stretching a bit before moving towards the door. “Just to let you know it’s a bit windy out. I’ve got just the thing and yes this is partially a bribe.” He ducked in to where the uniforms were kept, coming back in the hallway towards the pitch with two jackets. “It’s charmed to keep the wind out. If they haven’t given you one yet, consider this one yours. It does have my name on it but I’m sure we can alter it. Or you can keep my name on it. I am quite good.” He winked before slipping the other jacket on.

Grabbing his broom, he smoothly rose a few feet in the air. Most of the time, he felt more comfortable on a broom than his own two feet. It was freeing knowing he could just take off at any moment. His grandmother used to scold him for flying all over the house once he had moved back to England. “So....what would you like to see?”

@isamacmillan

“Alright doc,” Andrew said as he jumped on up the table. He always had to get cleared by a mediwitch before practicing after he fell. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t pay attention to bludgers. That was the beater’s job. His was to make sure the quaffle got into the goal. That beater from the Aarrows had a nasty arm, too. He only had four broken bones this time. Honestly, one of his shorter falls, too. But rules were rules. “I’ve not seen double in two days. My arm is just fine.” He waved it around to prove his point. “And I’m already able to wash my hair on my own so I think we’re ready to go here.”

#tw: injury

x-dahliaashes-x·:

“Too long, dearest.” Triumph flood through her as her companion played along, what made it even better was the utter absurdness of his performance. But he was playing the part and she was internally grateful. It also didn’t harm the fact she could tell under his costume there was a rather athletic body. Interesting. She allowed him to lead her further away from her furiously red looking mother and she couldn’t help but flash a quick smirk back at her.

“She is a particularly ugly shade of crimson so I would say yes, I mean it was almost a obscene level of flamboyance that I’m sure she’d consider you a heathen, so thank you, you’ve saved me from having to do something shameless. I sure hope your parents aren’t so frustrating.” she didn’t drop their arms, now they were slowly meandering around the room, it kept up the appearance. She was also very curious on just who her saviour indeed was.

“I know my dad isn’t. My mom left when I started doing magic as a kid so it’s really only him I have to deal with. He’s put up with me my whole life. Only child playing the game he loves. I’m as close to a golden child as I can get. Or well...I guess I’d be an owl really.” His nickname was still something he wasn’t too sure about. But people seemed to like it so he kept it. It’s easier that way. “I’m happy to help you keep her off your back for a while. I’ve been told I’m very good at being dramatic. I’m sure we could come up with something more intense should we need to.”

x-dahliaashes-x·:

“Really dear, you should think more about how society see’s you, this may pass in your ghastly muggle world but do remember you’re a part of this family and appearance matters. Do you know how awful it has been, hearing of your transgressions- people talk, Dahlia, not only a woman of your stature willingly living with them, but a single lady living with another woman? There are rumors-” Dahlia raised a hand, way past done with Zinnia’s hushed rebuke. It was the only downside of being in a room such as this, where she couldn’t avoid the banshee beside her without causing a scene and as much as Dahlia vied for the camera’s attention she wasn’t overly sure she wanted to go extreme. But, then again.

“Mother, I swear to Freya if you do not get off my back I will do something so brazen you’ll never want to be seen with me again. Need I remind you of Molly’s nameday? Think of that but worse, now, do us both a favour and powder your nose whilst I go say hello to my dear friend-” she grabbed the nearest person passing by and threaded her arm through theirs quickly.

“I don’t know who you are under that mask but humor me, please?”

It wasn’t often that Andrew had a pretty woman grab him outside of the Quidditch pitch. There he had gotten a few willing participants. But it was clear the woman was desperate and he could hear his grandmother from here telling him to be a gentleman. He winked before dropping into a low bow. “It has been far too long, my darling.” He kissed the back of her hand, putting on as much of a show as he could. “I simply must take you on a turn about the room. Maybe even two or three. You must catch me up on everything.” He linked their arms together again, walking in the direction she had before. “Did that work? I’m sure I can come up with more if I need to.”

lucreciablack·:

where: hotel sylvia for the halloween masquerade event

who: open to anyone!

The entire thing had pulled more money from Lucrecia’s pockets than she would have preferred. Charities and the events around them fell fully into her wheelhouse, but these groups? The kind that begged for someone to adore? Orion’s absence was like a gaping wound, one that pulsed and ached from the promises of what could have been. But there wasn’t a thing to be done about it now, not when perfect smiles and heavy pockets served a cause just as well as anything. “Yes,” she agreed with the person next to her, “I quite agree. Do you know how much you plan to donate this evening? I was thinking four hundred galleons myself, but perhaps if we come to an agreement we might be able to increase that across the board?”

Andrew had not been paying attention to the people around him. He was watching across the room, a guy who he vaguely remembered from Hogwarts was trying to get a girl to dance with him. And well....it wasn’t going well. Honestly, it was almost comical. He realized the people next to him wanted his input and he froze. He had heard something about galleons. Maybe money for tonight? How much did he have to pay to get here? He couldn’t remember. It was one of those tickets he just paid for. “I umm.....sure. I’m happy to help in anyway I can.”

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men at some time are masters of their fates