#c:gideon

[felixrodriguez]

"I'm growing increasingly disturbed by your willingness and excitement to push me into physician assisted suicide. I don't know whether to report you to the council or to your sister." Both men knew exactly which threat carried the most weight.

"She's a lawyer. It sounds like she was a public defender back in Launceston but now she has a job lined up at a high-power firm. Do with that what you will." His tentmate hadn't mentioned the name of the firm, only that a friend secured the role for her. But, it certainly tracked with the lines his brother in law was currently reading between.

Gideon's lived a long enough stretch of his life surrounded by sisters – by stubborn women, in general – to feel a shred of sympathy for the dynamic that undoubtedly awaits Félix at home when the girls grows up and Yvonne's hands are free. "Yea well, like I said earlier, Rodriguez... I'll be there to push that syringe driver full of morphine when you decide you're ready to kick off this mortal coil. Phone call away."

He doesn't know much about Carla beyond her name and tentmates for the occasion. But he can't help but wonder about her alleged openness among strangers. So Gideon takes the opportunity to do a little digging, even if it's doubtful the Italian would have been this open with a man now affiliated with the Rutherfords by marriage.

"And?... Learn anything interesting?" He's sure he doesn't have to specify what exactly would qualify as interesting. It's the elephant in the room, the obvious question mark.

"Does the apple fall far from the tree?" Is Carla Vespucci affiliated with the mob?...

[enxzo]

“You’d think I’d learn to speak mime after knowing one.” Enzo was getting nowhere with the ferryman, but it did remind him of an old friend who wasn’t exactly here, wherever here was. “Got any ideas?” He asked, hearing someone close by.

@anselson​

[the-littlest-prewett]

Gideon había sido siempre su persona favorita, aquella en la que siempre podía confiar, la única con la que podía mostrarse vulnerable, aquella a la que las palabras te amo le salían tan naturales y sinceras que aun la asombraba, no era solo su primo, era una especie de pilar en su vida, y ahora lo había lastimado, de una de las peores maneras en su mente. Los simples recuerdos de como solo quería herirlo incluso cosas peores no dejaban de pasar por su mente como si fuera un disco rayado, y se odiaba por eso. Y ahora no tenía forma de verlo a la cara sin sentirse la peor persona del mundo. Por eso se había ido de la casa de su primo por unos días buscando refugiarse con Molly y sus sobrinos, aunque no podía ser la de antes, no podía jugar con Fred y George, o hacer reír a Ron, pues estaba rota. Dormir hace semanas había dejado de ser una opción por más pociones que tomara, así que su rostro lucía demacrado, y sus ojos estaban hinchados por todas las veces que había llorado cuando nadie la miraba.

Como los medimagos le habían dicho que estar al aire libre podría ayudarla, esa tarde la chica se encontraba envuelta en una manta en el jardín de la madriguera cuando sintió como alguien se sentaba a su lado, y claramente se hizo más pequeña al ver a Gideon. —Y-yo— trato de hablar pero las palabras se habían atorado en su garganta y sus ojos habían vuelto a derramar lagrimas

 @gidsprewett​ .

[camillegladstone]

when: september 12th, 1979 where: the hog’s head who: @gideonprewonder

“Hey, what’s that you’re having? That looks splendid!”

[oliviacoppola]

Olivia released the breath she'd been holding and settled into her stance ever so slightly. At least it was just fucking Gideon Rutherford and not one of the Italians. Thank fuck Rina wasn't here. And that Gio was too interested in getting under Odile St. Pierre's skirt this weekend to pay Olivia any mind.

"Pretty sure I haven't slept more than an hour or two at a time this weekend, but I'm still breathing. That has to count for something. I'm half surprised my tentmate hasn't decided to give me a few more adornments in my sleep."

She crossed her arms and looked the man up and down.

"Who would have guessed Gideon Rutherford was so concerned about little old me's welfare?"

"Relax, Signorina. I'm not the fun police."

If the dilation of her pupils hadn't been enough of a guess, the nervousness in Olivia's demeanor and immediacy of an explanation would've more than likely given her away. But he'd have made for a piss poor clinician if he'd had any intention to judge her for it. Especially given the drug-dabbling tendencies that had long plagued his own family.

Hell, the Rutherford couldn't pretend he hadn't tried some of the stuff in his own young 'n dumb youth... Much as that felt like a lifetime ago.

"Good to see you've come out, Olivia. Meaning both to this event, but also your tent."

He doesn't know whether Olivia has any personal history with the Russians, but the rumours going around with this many people in attendance might've more than given her cause for concern. "I suspect you're especially glad for your freedom tonight."

[gideonprewxtt]

Let me in

Date: January 19th 1982

Location: Ryland’s home 

Starter: @rylandgreen​

Gideon had been feeling a bit lost since the disappearance of his closest friend and he was happy that he was back but he couldn’t get over the guilt he felt. He hadn’t pushed hard enough for them to go find him sooner and their relationship had suffered since his reappearance. Gideon felt a bit listless. Almost as if he no longer had a friend. Things hadn’t been well with his twin since he could remember and he was a bit desperate to get things back on track with Ryland. Though he wouldn’t admit to that even to himself. 

He had made all of Ryland’s favorite foods that day. He wanted him to be taken care of and he wanted even more to have an excuse to see him. He supposed he could just show up with nothing and ask to be seen but it was always better to come with something. He had decided to floo over to the home of his friend but upon his arrival he found himself stuck in the fireplace. Hurt was the first thing he felt remembering that there was once a time when he wasn’t stopped by any wards. “Ryland.” He called out his only hope that the man would hear him and let him in. “I’ve brought you something to eat. Won’t you let me in?” A moment passed and he grudgingly felt he had to mention “It’s Gideon.”

[davies-jake]

( feria)

—Deja ese pollo ya en los lockers y vamos a jugar Gotcha— expresó el chico una vez que se encontró con su amigo, sin duda esperaba pasar un buen rato con el contrario aunque tal vez no era la mejor idea que ellos tuvieran armas ( @gidsprewett​ )

[elctras]

"To continue to remain under constant surveillance as a victor, never truly escaping from it all?" it was suffocating, life as a victor, Every move monitored, everything you did, said, spoke, wanted, dared to think about, on record for the Capitol. She couldn't stand it. "Can that really be called living?"

He couldn't help but chuckle. He did like both Cat and Sawyer, both of the District Six Victors growing on him over time. The worry over them going back in the Arena nagged at his mind, so when it happened to Sawyer, he was angry and anxious. Though he made an effort to suppress both of those; last thing Sawyer needed was him losing it when he was supposed to be helping her get out alive. Again. "The human drive to survive." He glanced toward her and gave a small shrug, "It's why we all got out of there the first go-around, right? Or getting back home to family, friends, whoever. Everyone's answer could be different, but it all comes down to the instinctual need to stay alive."

[marya-whoisleft]

next great idea // marya & gideon

“Nathanial, where have you run off to?”

Marya knew that part of letting Nathanial grow up was giving him a little space here and there. After all, she didn’t want to accidentally turn into one of those helicopter parents that ended up with children who were unable to get by on their own. She remembered how poor Jared Chapman had gotten into trouble their first night at Hogwarts by trying to sneak out of the castle to get back to his parents. He became the first victim of their class’ rumor mill. Nathanial would not become Jared.

On the other hand, it was difficult to give him freedom when she felt a nagging fear in her stomach whenever he was out of her sight. Times being what they were and all.

But, she worked to combat that fear where she could. Today, it was during her excursion to the library. Marya wasn’t running the Books for Children benefit, but she had promised her friend Caroline that she would lend a hand with the last minute details. And while she had been talking with the librarian to finalize the speech for the night, she let Nathanial hang out with the group of kids gathering in the children’s section.

Now, she was peering around the bookcases trying to spot where her son had run off to. To her credit, her heart only fluttered a little bit quicker as her eyes scanned the small heads before landing on her Nathaniel’s. He was at one of those tables with short legs, fitted to be the perfect height for someone around four feet tall, talking animatedly to another boy with shocking red hair.

“Oh, there you are. Have you been having fun?” she asked, crouching down next to the pair.

“Yes, I’ve made a new friend,” he answered with the kind of energy he only really gets when he’s around kids his age.

“Well hello, new friend,” Marya said to the other boy. “What is your name? Are you here with your mum?”

@gideonthesoldier​

[daniyah-whoisleft]

where we’re needed most // gideon & daniyah

The stillness was unnerving. Daniyah wasn’t sure how long she had been stationed in Hogsmeade, but it was enough time to pace the perimeter of the village multiple times, on the look out for anything out of the ordinary. They should be grateful for any information at all they were able to get about the heist that was to happen. Hopefully, it would be enough to stop the Death Eaters from getting their hands on something valuable. But it wasn’t enough to feel like they were one step ahead. And, in Daniyah’s opinion, when they weren’t one step ahead, they were three steps behind.

That feeling was confirmed the moment chaos started pouring out of the least likely of places. She heard it first, a low rumble that was quickly growing as whatever it was grew closer, and she immediately snapped her eyes to Gideon’s like she would find an answer there. When her mission partner had nothing to provide for her though, her head kept moving to find the source. And she found it indeed.

Students were rushing down the road from the castle at a pace that gave away their panic. Daniyah first started trying to count them but soon gave up on that. It would do her no good to figure out just how many students were making their way to the village or what had pushed them in that direction. “It’s a distraction,” she said for Gideon to hear, mind made up on the fact.

At least there was one silver lining in that: they now knew that whatever was going down was going down now. “We have to stay alert. Block out the kids and focus on what they might be sneaking out of here. We can’t let them get out from right under our noses.”

@gideonthesoldier​

[lene-mckinnon-blog1]

—Ven Gideon vamos a bailar— expresó la rubia tomando a su amigo de la mano para prácticamente obligarlo a bailar con ella en aquella fiesta, por una vez la chica no quería preocuparse de la guerra en la que estaban luchando y solo quería actuar como una chica normal de su edad y sabía que Gideon sería la compañía perfecta para lograrlo. A pesar de que ya no tenían nada amoroso la chica disfrutaba de la compañía del Hufflepuff como un buen amigo y siempre le tendría apreció ( @gidsprewett )

[podmore-sturgis]

—Oh seguramente ni se darán cuenta si no voy— expresó con una sonrisa mientras observaba a su amigo —¿Y si te ayudo a cepillar a Gideon Jr?, si hago eso ¿iras a la fiesta? Vamos Gid no me puedes dejar solo—

“iré sólo si tú vas.”

― Pero es tu propia fiesta, ¿cómo no irías? ―Intentó descifrar el razonamiento detrás de la propuesta ajena―. No sé, ese día ya había pensado cepillar el pelo de Gideon Jr… Tengo que hacerlo periódicamente o se enreda ―lo sopesó, con el ceño a medio fruncir mientras trataba de organizar sus horarios.

☆   𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀   @podmore-sturgis​

[mary-whoisleft]

‘cause it’s just another saturday night // mary & gideon

There was plenty that terrified Mary about graduating in just a few short months, but if there was one thing she could honestly say she was excited about, it was having access to more bars. The Three Broomsticks was a lovely and cozy place, but it lost some of its charm when it was one of two options offered to her on a regular basis. Of course, she didn’t have as much time to go out any more, what with N.E.W.T.s looming around the corner like they were ready to strike at any moment.

But on this one free night she had, she found herself sitting at a stool enjoying a Butterbeer. It tasted just like every Butterbeer she ever had here, and that was both tiresome and comforting at the same time. What wasn’t comforting was the casual friend she had come with had seemed to disappear. Probably off flirting with some boy or drunkenly decided to Irish Goodbye. Which wouldn’t normally bother her, except for the fact that now it meant she had to walk back up to the castle alone. A reality she was currently avoiding by having just one more drink.

“Hard to leave when it’s so warm in here and so cold out there huh?” she said to the person who had just moved onto the stool next to hers at the bar. He was vaguely familiar, like someone she had known once upon a time but couldn’t remember from where. Or maybe he was just a stranger with One Of Those Faces, which she could figure out soon enough.

@gideonthesoldier

[olivier--fontaine]

Going to a hospital was never fun to begin with, but it was even more daunting and nerve-wracking to go with one’s parent for a problem of their own. Olivier in particular hated hospitals. It wasn’t even the smell or the horrible bare walls, it was just the atmosphere that was unsettling for him. His father never even made it to a hospital so it wasn’t that he associated it with the man’s death directly, but being in a hospital always did remind him of that day. Maybe it was because of the paramedics who came and the fact that the atmosphere around them so closely resembled the one in the stark building, or maybe it was just that so many souls had departed from such a sterile location and, despite all the staff, it felt...empty.

Though Olivier and his mother was close, she liked to keep her health concerns to herself because she knew how concerned the boys were about her well-being after her husband’s death. For the most part, aside from some occasional slightly high cholesterol levels, she was in good health. Something strange showed up a little while ago, though, and she’d kept it from Olivier until the week before she was to go in for a talk with a recommended surgeon. She trusted her primary doctor so much she refused to hear about even considering someone else aside from who he recommended, so Olivier just barely managed to keep his mouth shut and agreed to come with her for support. She was scared, and all she had to do was tell him that for him to agree to be at her house at 9 sharp and outside the surgeons office before 10. In all the discussions, she hadn’t mentioned the surgeon’s name once. It wasn’t until Olivier was sitting outside the man’s office that he realized where exactly he was, and as he sat as still as he could, inside he was antsy and bordering on fuming.

@drrutherford​

[the-littlest-prewett]

Desde lo ocurrido en la fiesta de las pociones, las cosas en su casa se habían puesto insoportables para Andrea ya que al parecer nadie en su familia perdonaba que hubiera acabado en el hospital mágico, y aquella preocupación excesiva y que la estuvieran juzgando todo el tiempo estaban volviendo loca a la chica. Por lo que a la primera oportunidad que tuvo tomó una pequeña maleta con sus cosas y no tardó en aparecerse en la puerta del apartamento de su primo, esperando encontrarlo en casa, pues a pesar que recordaba la conversación que habían tenido esa noche y que era un tema que no quería volver a tratar Gideon seguía siendo su lugar seguro —¿puedo quedarme unos días?— pregunta una vez que se encuentra con el mayor mientras le pone su mejor cara de cachorrito —Mis padres y hermanos me están volviendo loca y prefiero dormir en un sillón a estar un día más en casa— 

para @gidsprewett​ 

[felixrodriguez]

The two families couldn't be any more different if they tried, and yet a peaceful coexistence had set upon them for the duration of the festivities. There was no doubt in Félix's mind that Gideon was going to be a permanent addition to Lydia Rodriguez's fussing list, whether he liked it or not. "Be careful, make her like you too much and you'll never escape from her. You'll be closing your eyes and hearing mom guilt and lectures every time you try to sleep." God help him.

"You have a deal. I've already been covering for Luiza for the last fifteen years, I can cover for you too." This was getting dangerously close to a sincere conversation. Something he was surprisingly starting to lose track of. Proof that miracles were indeed possible. "Don't worry. It's a large cathedral. Shouldn't be too hard to find somewhere for you to hide out."

Félix shook his head with a chuckle. "I promise to take whatever Cassie has to say about you with a grain of salt if you promise not to listen to the lies she tries to tell you about me." He was already living in fear about whatever toast she'd have prepared for the event. There was always the possibility of telling her no, but he had a sneaking suspicion that she would just steal a microphone anyways.

'She's still going to call you a gringo. To your face. Then she'll pinch your cheeks and tell you to eat more.'

His lips quirk up in response to the dry warning, amused despite himself. "I'll take it." If Félix had had to fight an uphill battle in order to win him over, the same could not be said for his sweet but undeniably feisty mother, and Yvonne's new mother-in-law.

"Though I suppose these will be famous last words if I fail."

Truth be told, Lydia, together with some of their immediate family members, brought a kind of no-nonsense warmth he doesn't remember seeing in their family since... Maybe not since Cerys was still alive. There's that old, inevitable ache in his chest as he thinks of his adoptive mother, now long gone.

If there's a force in this world that could imbue them with a little more of that, wouldn't it almost certainly be a good thing?... And if none of that sun fell on the rest of them, wouldn't it still be worthwhile for Yvonne, who never had much of it, growing up?

"Tell ya what... I'll keep practicing my Spanish if you cover for me and pretend my last church confession was sometime within the last two decades." Remembering a chat about faith he'd had with his sister long time ago, he wonders whether her views have changed, or whether – much like him – they'd all be doing some extra tiptoeing around the devoted Catholic matriarch. "... And find that nook for me at the church wedding."

At the mention of the guest list, the Rutherford can't hold back a snort, however.

"And I suspect some of that guest list is out to get me. You mustn't believe a single thing they might report about me. Character assassins, the lot of them." He struggles to hold the straight face, knowing all too well that at least a handful of said offenders feature among his closest friends. Traitors.