#or Jamie the mother hen

[inkdrinkerworld]

hurt/comfort with touchy!bestfriend!james when reader trips and gets mildly injured, and it hurts but reader won’t admit it, he helps patch reader up and kisses it better 🤕

You come into your apartment cursing- which is a little unusual because you normally are listening to your music and singing along.

The change in routine catches James’ attention, who’s in the kitchen fixing himself a protein shake.

You’re a little oblivious to him u Tim he’s standing in front of you sipping in his protein shake with his eyebrows downcast in concern.

“What’s up your ass, angel?” Then he zeros in on your cut up elbows and sets his shake down on the key bowl.

“James don’t leave your cup there,” you start saying between blowing away the debris from around your daw wound.

“I’ll pick it up later, what happened to your elbows?”

His big hands are gentle as he turns your arm this way and that, taking in the depth of the cuts.

“Tripped on a huge rock near the walkway.” You say easily, “It’s no big deal Jamie.”

They’re actually really stinging, but you don’t tell James that. He’s going to baby you far more than you deserve for the scrapes on your elbows.

James scoffs, “No big deal, you’ve ripped holes in your top and you can’t stop bleeding.” His fingers circle your wrists and tug you to the kitchen.

“Sit there,” he points to the counter just opposite the sink as he bends down to rifle through looking for the first aid kit.

“James, it’s not-“ he shakes his head, standing up with the kit. He’s like a mother hen sometimes honestly.

“I don’t care if you don’t think it’s a big deal. It’s a huge deal to me, yeah?” He says it with all the sass you suppose he’s got from spending all those years with Sirius.

It’s futile to argue your point any further, so you sit there and let him clean your scrapes and feels him sigh as he gets the blood to stop.

“Dunno how you bleed so much, darling.” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the now cleaned cuts which makes you giggle.

“Now you’re gonna have to clean them again because you’ve been drinking that peanut butter shake.”

James dabs the cuts clean again and then holds up two boxes of plasters. “Do you want the gingerbread men or the brown ones?”

You hum, “Can I have one of each?” James puts them on with far more precision than you would’ve used, and then presses another pair of kisses to each of them.

“There, the kiss should help speed the healing along.” He says seriously, but then grin on his face melts your heart.

“Thanks Jamie,” you murmur, holding your arms out for a hug. “They really hurt.”

James chuckles warmly, “I knew it!” He’s busy rubbing your back when he spots his cup on the bowl of keys and grimaces, hoping he’ll remember it before it gets too warm.

[incorrectafcrichmond]

Isaac: You think I enjoy being mother hen to you all?

Moe:

Colin:

Jamie:

Thierry:

Sam:

Dani:

Richard:

Jan:

Isaac: Okay, fine, it's like crack to me.

[theemporium]

Poly marauders looking after reader after she faints <3333

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

You hadn’t meant to do it, though the boys liked to act like that was the case.

It just so happened that between the sleeping in that caused you to rush to get ready and make it to your first class with seconds to spare, working on the essay you had been procrastinating for the last few weeks that was due the next day in during your free period and lunch, and accidentally getting sucked into helping Pandora with a few errands you felt too bad saying no to, you hadn’t eaten a single thing all day. Or drank enough water.

You felt off as you walked back towards Gryffindor Tower, having missed dinner by the time you bid Pandora goodbye. There was a nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach but you waved that off as general anxiety. You knew the work you had been putting off for ages was starting to bite you in the ass a little, it wasn’t odd for you to feel the stress starting to nibble at you.

But then the staircases were moving a little more crazy than usual. And then you realised you had been standing in the same spot for the last two minutes. And then the world went black before you could even take in the fact the world was spinning around you. 

You woke up in a bed in the infirmary, three bodies slumped around you in different but amusing positions. 

Remus had taken it upon himself to actually get a chair, seating himself the closest to you with his head resting by your hand. 

Sirius was on the floor, a stolen pillow tucked under his head as he snored away, looking peaceful despite the position. 

James had all but curled himself at the bottom of your bed, though you suspected he was probably taking up more space than he was. 

It took one nudge of your foot to wake James up, the sudden jostle taking him by surprise and causing him to fall off the bed, which woke Sirius up with a yelp which caused Remus’ head to shoot up. All three boys looked momentarily confused and bleary-eyed before their heads whirled to you. In an instant, they were swarming you. 

“Merlin, sweetheart, you scared us!”

“You gave us a heart attack, love, we ran here the second Minnie told us you were in the infirmary wing.

“How could you not have anything all day? You need to take care of yourself, darling.”

“Are your pillows okay? We can find fluffier ones.”

“She needs another blanket.”

“Are you in pain, love? Should we get Pomfrey—”

“Merlin, breathe,” you told them, though your lips twitched at the way they surrounded you and instantly started fussing over you. It warmed your heart, though you knew that would wear away once their mother hen nonsense started getting ridiculous. “I’m okay.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed. “Says the girl who just fainted.”

“Whoops?” you said with a sheepish expression.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Remus grumbled with a shake of his head. 

“Are you sure your pillows are okay? Because I can—” 

You instantly caught James’ hand, intertwining it with your own as you pressed a kiss on the back of his hand. “I promise I’m fine, Jamie.”

“Just want my girl to be comfortable,” he murmured as he kissed the crown of your head. 

“I swear I’m okay,” you assured them.

“Good, then you can budge over,” Sirius said, and you laughed as the boy crawled under the sheets with you, the bed definitely not big enough for two but Sirius didn’t seem bothered by the squeeze. “You scared us, now we gotta take turns staying with you to make sure you eat.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you think this is all a bit dramatic?”

All three boys shot you a look.

“Merlin, this is gonna be a long night,” you grumbled as you leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Most people wouldn’t consider being on bed rest with three men at your bend and will be all that bad,” Remus mused. 

“Most people haven’t had to deal with you three,” you shot back.

Remus grinned. “Say what you want, sweetheart, but you’re not leaving our sight until we know you’re better.”

.

[incorrect-richmond]

Isaac: You think I enjoy being a mother hen to you all?

Colin:

Dani:

Thierry:

Jamie:

Moe:

Isaac: Ok fine, it’s like crack to me.

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

may i request a oneshot of brotherly bonding between our fav pookie hawthorne brothers as children?

maybe with some angst between jamie and gray and sad xander and mother hen nash?

pls and tyyyyyy <33333

SUREE!!! 🩷

It was brother game board night, and the game that Xander had chosen was Monopoly. The longest game to ever exist, yet still a family favourite. Taking the board game from the cabinet in which it was stored in, Xander walks over to the library, where the rest of his brothers were. Nash was leaning back in his chair, and Grayson and Jameson were sitting at opposite ends of the table. But something felt off.

“What is it?” Xander asks, placing the board game on the table. Nash looks oddly at Jameson and Grayson, before looking back at Xander.

“Xan, if your father were to visit….. would you want to see him?” Nash asks, his voice gentle. Xander’s eyebrows raised. His father had never really been in his life, but still, he had always wanted to see him.

“Sure. I would want to!” He said, glancing at his other brothers. Jameson and Grayson looked at each other, a silent conversation filtering through their eyes. Now something was really up.

“Why? Did one of our fathers want to see us?” He asks. No response. Then Grayson sighs.

“Did you really have to get Xander involved in this, Nash? He’s only 11.” He says, matter-of-factly. Xander frowns, not wanting to show how badly that statement hurt. Jameson turned to him.

“Xan, you do know that our dads left because they don’t want us, right? They wouldn’t want us to visit them.” Jameson says. Then he turned to Grayson.

“Should we go ask the old man now? About Xander’s..” He trailed off, but Grayson nodded.

“You guys go. I’ll stay here with him.” Nash said. Xander hated how they talked about him like he wasn’t even there, just because he was younger.

“What are you guys talking about?” Xander asks. Jameson, Grayson, and Nash all look at him, but Nash is the one to answer.

“Nothing. Jameson and Grayson are just gonna be chattin’ with the old man for a bit, and then they’ll be back. But it’s nothing Xan.” He says, his eyes kind. Xander couldn’t help the way his chest tightened at the feeling of being left out. Again.

“It’s not nothing.” He says, suddenly. His brothers turned to look at him, a bit surprised, but Xander keeps going. “I’m not a kid. I know this has something to do with my dad, and I wanna know. It’s not fair that you guys get to do all this stuff but I don’t.” Xander knew he sounded childish, but he didn’t care. He was left out of everything and anything, all because he was a year younger. And he wanted to know about his dad, even if his dad didn’t want Xander. Graysons brows furrowed.

“Xander…” He says, trailing off. “I don’t think you need to know about this. It’s really not important.” Xander only got madder, which was surprising because he was never mad at his brothers. But he just couldn’t take being left out all the time!

“It is important. Just what I don’t understand is why you won’t tell me!” He said, and in a fit of anger, stormed off. On his way to his room, he sees the old man. Xander pauses, before walking over to him.

“Grandfather!” He says. Tobias looks up and smiles when he sees Xander.

“Hello, Xander. What is it?” He asks. Xander presses his lips in a thin line before speaking.

“Did my father ask to visit? Or did Jameson and Grayson say anything related to that?” Xander presses. Instantly, Tobias’ face changes from kindness, to anger.

“Your brothers told you about how they have been poking around, looking for their fathers online, haven’t they? Well, I don’t want you getting worried about your father, Xander. He left. Do you understand me?” Tobias says, his voice no longer gentle. Xander frowned, his eyebrows burrowing.

“But-“ Before Xander could say anything, Tobias interrupts him.

“Xander. Your father never cared for you, just like how your brothers’ fathers never cared for them either. Now, do you understand me?” Tobias urges. Xander’s eyes go wide as he fights back the urge to cry. All he’d ever wanted was, well, to be wanted. And here was his grandfather, telling him that his father would never care for him, and had never cared for him. Not allowing himself to speak in case he starts crying, Xander nods. Tobias’ face turns softer as he nods back before walking away. As tears started crowding his eyes, Xander turns his head down the hall, and there, he could see his three brothers, watching him with concern and guilt on their faces. Not wanting to have to cry in front of them, Xander aggressively wipes his tears with his fists, before turning and running to his room.

——————————————————————————

OKAY I KNOW THIS IS REALLY LATE IM SORRY BUT I WAS PUTTING IT OFF BC I DIDNT HAVE ANY IDEAS UNTIL NOW 😭😭😭 also it needs to be talked about more how often xander is left out bc it’s acc so sad 😢

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

⚽️

thank you my wonderful friend <3 from this ask game.

from the untitled ac milan fic where the team is out of subs so jamie hides an injury so the team doesn’t play with one less player and then oops, gets injured more:

How was he supposed to climb the fucking stairs to it? Or to the plane? The bus stairs were so narrow it’s not as if someone could even carry him if his dignity allowed it. The walk to the bus seemed to last forever, now that it was a crutched-and-pray not an actual walk. Isaac and Sam hovered nearby like nervous mother hens. Jamie tried not to think of the implications of their worry being for him rather than his place on the team. Instead he let himself feel the guilt of the team now being without him for who the fuck knows how long.

Guilt was the only thing that kept him upright at the moment, afraid if he felt the weight of their love too much it would be too heavy and he’d crumble and allow them to take care of him proper, fuss and carry his hurts on their back instead of his for a bit. Instead, Jamie trudged on, not letting his brain stray from plant crutches - swing - stand and try to ignore pain - plant crutch - swing - stand and try to ignore pain. The bus was within view, all he had to do was go a little further. plant crutches - swing - stand and try to ignore pain - plant crutch - swing - stand and try to ignore pain—

“Mi scusi! Mi scusi! Posso avere un autografo?” interrupted Jamie’s concentration and he looked over to see a small group of people by a barrier near the bus.

Isaac and Sam exchanged looks, clearly nervous about leaving their charge but not wanting to disappoint the crowd, especially when there were a number of children in it.

[blank-house]

So, trying really hard not to dive on spoilers!

I suppose family is going to be kind of an important topic, but the basics like knowing if the cast comes from a big or small family? If they are an only child or are really close with their family? Could we pls get any clue about it?

These are really basic questions so maybe at this point they're answered if so ignore them! Do they have any favourite type of food or favourite dish? And do they have any favourite colour?

Is there any of them who are like... Top or model students? We got that image from Deja and we'll get to know more about them in game but just wanted to have an idea if there's any of them who get like really good grades 👀

Haha I applaud your efforts

Sure, yeah I can talk about family! But like you said, it's an important topic, and the game will explore more about these topics. So I'll have to refrain a bit from some aspects--

But right off the bat, Percy, Cameron, and Reynah are an only child. Deja has an older brother by five years and Jamie has an older sister by six years. Elio has... *counts on fingers* five siblings, two older and three younger!

And since MC is meant to know more about Deja and Cam, I can talk about their family!

Deja

Deja's family is close but they value independence a lot. As such, they don't actually keep frequent contact with each other and the holidays are when they consistently meet up. But that's just how it is in the Lamarre household. But Deja's parents do visit the trio when they can and as soon as they can. They also like treating Cameron and MC out for dinner as if they're their own family.

One time, Deja was in an SGB meeting when they pulled up so they just took Cameron and MC out for dinner instead.

MC and Cam: *spams the gc with meal shots and a photo of her parents waving*

Deja: My parents are in town?

Deja: Wait, are you eating with my parents??

MC: They said they'll pay.

Cam: Dude, the lobster here is to die for.

Deja: I-

Deja: Ask them if they got a substitute. brb

She called the meeting short to eventually join them heh

Though they have a pretty Laissez-Faire kind of lifestyle, they all love each other very much. They just prefer not to waste time with mushy words. Rather, they'd let the proud smiles do the talking.

Cam

The Molinares family is a lot closer and a lot bigger. Compared to the Lamarre's, they meet up every month for a get together. Whether it's to celebrate someone's birthday or to go on a weekend hike-- there's always a reason for them to meet up.

Cameron's loved by all of their extended relatives but they're really close with their cousins since they grew up and took care of them during these family events. And as the oldest of all of them, they're idolized by all of their cousins. MC and Deja saw firsthand how they were swarmed at a family potluck they had been invited to-- like a mother hen and her baby chicks, Cameron always had someone dangling off their waist.

Their parents work long shifts so they feel bad that they don't get to welcome Cameron home after their classes. But they thank Deja and MC for keeping them company and for letting them crash at their place when the commute gets too late with homemade meals. They make the best arroz con pollo, and of course they substitute for Deja.

Though their family doesn't come to campus, the trio are more than welcome to come by their place and their family events. Though when they do, they prepare themselves for talks about love. Their aunts, especially, look forward to the day they hear MC and Deja have a partner.

- - - - -

Favorite color... that's something I didn't really think about because I don't have any favorites haha but let's see...

Percy - Red (I think he'd like all shades of it)

Elio - Green (but not neon)

Jamie - Silver and Blue

Deja - Purple and Pink

Reynah - Pink, there's a specific shade. Otherwise she really digs the pastels

Cameron - Hm... I think... I think they wouldn't have any favorite colors. Doing art for so long has made them pretty unbiased and appreciative of all shades

As for their food tastes. You can't go wrong with something from their background. They all like the food they grew up eating.

And though I can't think of any specific dishes they'd like, I can talk about their eating habits!

Elio is a carnivore. Barbeque makes him salivate. Percy's into broths, something that warms him up on the inside. Jamie's a bit picky though so he's got a really light palate. Reynah's the same way but she'd still eat everything, she just won't have much of an opinion. Cameron would love rice-based dishes and Deja-- ah, there's not a lot she can explore given her diet. But she likes snacking on fruits. The apartment is always stocked with grapes because of it.

- - - - -

Haha yeah Deja gets good grades. So does Jamie. They're both kind of like the perfect model student.

Strictly speaking, everyone has good grades considering that they're in majors that require them to continue their education. So they don't really have any room to fuck up if they're shooting for a PhD.

But where studying comes easily to Deja and Jamie, the rest have to put in the hours. Cameron especially. Law's a lot of reading and it takes them longer to understand the material. Percy could honestly be in D and J's level, but he procrastinates. Reynah and Elio are diligent but only when they're actually studying. They're both busy people with plenty on their plate haha

[blocked-zombieartist]

Bad Shellfish, final part

Sorry it’s taken me so long everyone, especially to the anon who requested it. I hope it’s been satisfactory. Enjoy!

  Soon, Nash came back with a bowl of his signature chicken noodle soup for me. Xander bounded into my room behind him with a bouquet of fresh flowers that looked suspiciously like he’d just cut them from Aunt Zara’s garden. Always trouble, these three. Mainly the younger two. I smiled and gratefully took the bowl handed to me. I hesitated to eat it due to my nausea, but the heat from the ceramic bowl and the smell wafting from the soup was comforting. The vase went on my nightstand, imperfectly lovely. It was personal, and that’s what meant a lot to me. 

  “Thank you all. I really appreciate it.” I told them, spending a few seconds looking into the eyes of each of them. I honestly didn’t know where I’d be without these three. I certainly wouldn’t be the person I was today, for better or worse. While the old man shaped us, we had made each other and ourselves the people we were. I knew it, and they did too. There was an unspoken understanding that passed between us, and I know that they felt my gratitude.

  The next few days, my brothers kept tending to me. They’d take turns checking on me, spending time with me to make sure I wasn’t lonely. Over those days, I spent more time with them than I had in quite a while, and I realized how much I’d missed it. Nash would take care of me in that mother hen way of his. Jameson would spend time with me, letting me show him my photos, talking to me of days gone by, and he even agreed to watch a documentary with me. Xander entertained me by dragging in endless inventions of his, and went on and on about ideas and plans he had for more. I found myself relishing every moment.

  One night, I was feeling a little bit better than the days before, but I was exhausted. I crawled into bed without much care. I was drifting off to sleep when the more conscious part of me registered my door opening. The person who walked in turned off my lamp and tucked me in. A hand ruffled my hair gently, and a kiss was placed on my head. Something I hadn’t felt in… heaven knows how long. 

  “Sleep well, baby brother,” Nash drawled quietly. He walked out and shut the door behind him. A sleepy smile crossed my face. I drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in a very long time, I dreamed. I dreamed of the past few days and my brothers’ care for me. I dreamed of days long gone, when we were all younger, like in the stories Jamie regaled. I dreamed that I was four years old again, with my big brother, who I admired more than anything, even more than the old man at the time, taking care of me when no one else would or could. 

[solitaire-sol]

Prongsfoot Week 2023 - Day 2

What Headcanons do you have for this ship? IE, things like, James made the first move or Sirius got James into crosswords. Anything really.

I definitely got carried away with this one, but...

⌘ James was Sirius' first friend; Sirius was James' first real friend.

⌘ I HC James as short until the growth spurt that puts him at slightly shorter than Sirius, so until then the taller-than-average Sirius hones his Potter Protection Instinct because James may be tiny but will still go at bigger/older Slytherins. Sirius is a little disappointed when James gets taller, and secretly gratified that James still has to look up at him a bit.

⌘ They start sharing a bed early in First Year because James has never been away from his parents for so long; he pokes his head through Sirius' curtains, sees he's awake and declares he's going to stay because Sirius obviously needs the comfort. Sirius has been lying awake, staring at the canopy, thinking about how his parents will react to his Sorting, so he scoffs but lets James stay. They both sleep very well and continue to share beds for the rest of their time at Hogwarts.

⌘ Sirius is noticeably cool to the touch, to the point that James initially thought he was sick or something, much to Sirius' confusion. James runs hot, and they both love snuggling under the blankets on a cold night.

⌘ Sirius was initially startled by James' tactile nature, then kind of disappointed and a little huffy when he realizes James is like that with everyone; when James figures out what's bothering Sirius, he ups the physicality with Sirius so Sirius knows he's special. It becomes common to see Sirius with his head in James' lap, or James sitting between Sirius' legs and leaning back against him, or constantly touching each other or each other's clothes, like holding onto a sleeve/scarf/belt. They want to know where the other is at all times, ideally by physically confirming it.

☾ Bonus Moonchaser HC: James is especially tactile with Remus as it gets closer to the full moon, going full mother-hen (checking his temperature forehead-to-forehead, stroking his hair, massages if he's achy before/after) and while Sirius never says anything, he can't help getting a little sulky/snippy because he secretly suspects Remus is playing it up. He kind of is, because it's the only time Remus can get more of James' attention than Sirius.

⌘ They sit next to each other at meals and in class, whenever they're able, so they can hold hands under the table. This starts before anything romantic, so James can support Sirius when he gets another Howler from his mother and Sirius can reel James in when he's having trouble focusing in class. When there's no table, they improvise, like sharing a blanket at a Quidditch match and holding hands under it. It's not because they're embarrassed, it's just a private thing that's just for them.

⌘ Sirius initially starts calling James 'Jamie' because James' parents call him Jem or Jemmy, and James gets horribly embarrassed when Sirius reads it in a letter from Euphemia and starts using it; he forbids Sirius from calling him Jemmy, so Jamie is Sirius' "compromise." James starts calling Sirius 'Siri' in an attempt to annoy him back, but Sirius just shrugs it off because James can't say it in any way that doesn't sound affectionate. No-one else uses these nicknames.

⌘ They both love to give each other gifts: James' varies wildly, all types and price-points, anything he thinks will make Sirius laugh or smile or roll his eyes and pretend he's not charmed. Sirius' gifts are more carefully chosen and usually more expensive because he goes for quality. Sirius also likes giving James things he can wear, which James does, because Sirius likes seeing James wearing them.

⌘ Sirius realizes his feelings are romantic first and has a thousand reasons why he shouldn't tell James, first and foremost being that Sirius Has Issues and doesn't want to inflict them on James; Sirius can lash out verbally when he feels hurt or vulnerable and he's terrified of doing real damage to James, who can brush off most things but can be terribly vulnerable and sometimes insecure where Sirius is concerned. It takes some time before James can convince Sirius that he's willing to accept said Issues and that they can deal with them together.

⌘ James takes much longer to recognize his feelings as romantic because their friendship is already romantic in so many ways; he's actually capable of hiding his feelings well because restrained-James-in-love isn't much different from normal-James-with-his-best-friend. If James is pining, it's because he knows Sirius could have anyone he wants and has no qualms about going after what he wants, and he hasn't gone after James yet, so he must not want James. James doesn't want to be one more person who puts their expectations on Sirius, so he's willing and able to be Just Friends.

⌘ When they get together, it's either completely easy and natural or comes only after pining and angst and tears and self-loathing because they shouldn't be asking for more than what they have, which is so wonderful and perfect and it'd be selfish to want anything more.

⌘ James is openly sentimental, though negative emotions are different, something to keep to himself so he doesn't worry anyone; it becomes a huge relief when he realizes that Sirius won't judge him for it, despite Sirius usually being happy to jab at everyone's weakpoints, even those of friends. Sirius is cool and aloof on the outside, but on the inside he's gushing about how happy James makes him and how brilliant James was in that duel and how amazing James' arse looks in his Quidditch kit. The difference in communication styles leads to early problems when Sirius doesn't say it aloud, so James isn't sure if he's reading Sirius right or just hearing what he wants to hear; Sirius initially doesn't know how James could not know how much Sirius adores him, but starts verbalizing more, quietly murmuring you were great out there or I absolutely adore you into James' ear at appropriate/random times. It makes James melt.

⌘ James is rebel-curious, lol, he likes bending the rules but doesn't want to disappoint his parents with "bad habits" like smoking and drinking, so Sirius technically starts them off but knows James is interested and just needs a nudge as an 'excuse'-- He never pushes for anything if he doesn't think James doesn't want to try it, which includes sex and kinks later in life. It also gives Sirius a bit of a thrill because he never completely stops seeing James as 'the golden boy,' so James smoking/talking dirty/etc will always be a turn-on. Once James finds out he's more than happy to lean into it

⌘ Sirius starts thinking about getting a tattoo, then James suggests they get matching ones, which makes Sirius' heart almost explode because James is doing something transgressive and it's permanent and they're going to be linked forever. The first tattoos are small and easily-hidden, but they like to touch/kiss each other's, even after they both get more (Sirius gets a lot more, of course).

⌘ Sirius and James spark so many sexual awakenings, separately and together. There were definitely rumors about how close they were and more than a few people fantasized about having both together. I HC Sirius as not dating/sleeping around because he's extremely selective and has a very high self-worth; he doesn't think much of other people in general. When he does get involved with others, it's usually in reaction to James being in a relationship/trying to deal with his feelings for James, and in those relationships Sirius always holds back emotionally/has to be the dominant party because he only trusts James enough for that to change.

⌘ James has a somewhat old-fashioned view of love and sex due to his elderly parents, so while he likes when people flirt with/admire him, his 'dates' tend to be more like hang-outs. He's still a teenage boy, though, which leads to James and Sirius being each other's firsts: First kiss, first handjob, ect. James doesn't like anyone else enough to consider them and Sirius hates the idea of anyone else touching James like that, especially for his first time, because what if they're not good at it or hurt him or-- No, it's best that James comes to Sirius, what are best friends for?

⌘ Sirius drinks heavily when he's stressed or sad or otherwise Having Feelings, but only in private; James is a very social person and a very social drinker, and he can go from being pleasantly tipsy to a friendly drunk to a casually slutty drunk without really realizing it. Part of the reason Sirius barely drinks in public is because he's keeping an eye on James. Sometimes drunk!James gets clingy/handsy with Sirius and it kind of drives Sirius insane, because he's sure it's just because James is drunk and not because James' subconscious is trying to get them together.

⌘ James is neither jealous nor possessive because, lovingly spoiled as he is, he hasn't ever been denied anything or had to worry about losing it; he never considers that he might lose Sirius as a friend, and he never worries about someone seducing Sirius away after they're together because no-one has the power to make Sirius do what he doesn't want to. James does get insecure, because he knows Sirius can lose interest easily and it takes a long time for Sirius to convince James that he doesn't have to worry about that, Sirius can't ever get bored with James.

⌘ Sirius isn't jealous but is possessive, both before and after he and James get together. There's not much that matters to Sirius, certainly not anything that matters as much as James, and he's going to hang onto James come Hell or high water: While usually not overt, he makes his claim known, platonic or otherwise. This is why he and Lily don't get along until after Hogwarts: Sirius would dislike someone for "stealing" his best friend even if there weren't romantic feelings involved. He and Lily are also more alike than they first seem, so naturally they clash over James.

⌘ They're both spoiled rich kids, but James knows how to cook and do chores the Muggle way because his parents made sure he did, in a 'appreciate how good you have it' way. Both of James' parents like cooking so he becomes surprisingly good at it, and he likes to cook for Sirius because Sirius appreciates it so much.

⌘ They're both well-versed in the usual manners and traditions of an aristocratic pureblood, but the Potters let James have fun with it while the Blacks stressed achievement for the sake of prestige; Sirius is better, technically, but he doesn't enjoy it until James. Dancing is only fun when James is in his arms (and vice-versa), the piano is only worth playing again because James is entranced by it, languages are only interesting when James gushes over how amazing Sirius sounds, they should go traveling together so Sirius can show off!

⌘ If Voldemort/Jily doesn't happen, they do travel and are blissfully happy, but James wants to settle down and have a family (surrogacy or mpreg) while Sirius is hesitant. He says it's because he doesn't want to be tied down, but it has a lot to do with his family: He knows happy families exist because he's seen the Potters, and he thinks James would be an amazing father, and Sirius is afraid that he'd ruin that due to his own family background. This is one of the few sticking points where they're initially really at loggerheads, because Sirius can't bring himself to be completely honest about why he's hesitant so James thinks Sirius just doesn't want a family with him. They eventually work it out, of course.

⌘ In AUs with mpreg, James is always the one who carries any kids, be it Harry or OC offspring; he loves being pregnant, he knows Sirius doesn't like the idea of being pregnant himself, and he loves how doting Sirius is during and after the pregnancy. Their children call James 'Dad' and Sirius 'Papa.'

⌘ I HC James as having a successful pro Quidditch career before suffering a near-fatal injury as he approaches potential retirement age; it scares Sirius enough, and maybe James if they already have kids, that James agrees to retire. He could become a manager/coach/commentator, but he might become a stay-at-home dad just as easily, especially if they'd been holding off on having kids. James would thrive in this role, raising the kids and gardening and making friends with neighborhood housewives and old biddies and local kids. He'd want to give Sirius the loving, happy home he never had when they were younger, and give their children the same kind of happiness he knew growing up.

⌘ For a canon/canon-adjacent HC: Sirius modifies his motorcycle to have a sidecar as soon as they find out Harry's on the way, so he and James can take baby Harry out on the bike.

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Wrenna and Jamie!: what would they do if the other one was hurt

Wrenna has half-brothers, and even though she's much younger than them, she learned to tend a wound pretty early on because of their antics. She's closer to her nieces in age, and both Wynafryd and Wylla were relatively wild girls, coming home with scrapes and bruises that needed cleaning and patching. So seeing an injured Jaime isn't very off-putting to her. She can clean and bandage him up without much issue and she's more than happy to comfort him after. She moreso struggles when the nightmares come for him. She has no words of comfort to offer, no words at all, really, so she just curls herself around her and prays it's enough.

Jaime, on the other hand, would flip shit if Wrenna was hurt. He has a bad habit of underestimating her because of the whole "young and mute" thing. But really he's just incredibly afraid that each new trauma she endures will drag her back to that place in her mind she went to when Roose was torturing her. Most of the time she waves him off because he hovers like a mother hen, and she's grateful for the time they spend on the road with Brienne because Brienne doesn't let him fuss over her. But when it's her nightmares that come, it's Jaime she finds and Jaime who sits awake with her, who talks enough for the both of them until she inevitably falls asleep pressed against his side.

Send me a ship ask 🩵

[scapegrace74-blog]

The Man from Black River, Chapter 14

A/N  At long last, the truth about Henry, Murtagh, Julia and the whole shebang comes to light.  Jamie and Claire have people in their corner, but will it be enough?

Previous chapters are available on my AO3 page.

“And then what happened?” Claire was held rapt by the story Murtagh was relating, his typical dour demenour nowhere in sight, blue eyes sparkling with mirth beneath thundercloud eyebrows.

“Brian said that if the lad sought tae blame a fox fer all the missing eggs, he could at least harry the hens a spell so as tae make the lie more convincing.”

“Was Jamie punished?” she leaned forward, delighting in the chance to explore another side of the man she’d fallen in love with.

“He’d eaten a dozen raw eggs, lass.  He didna leave the privy ‘til after nightfall.  I reckon Brian felt twas punishment enough and that he’d remember it far longer than any hiding he might give.”

Merry peals of laughter echoed off the rocks, startling several birds into flight.  The sound cut Murtagh like tiny blades, even as it warmed his heart.  Claire’s laugh was a perfect facsimile of Julia’s.

“He sounds like quite a handful,” she commented, unaware of the older man’s torment.

“Oh, aye.  A more devious wee rascal ye ne’er did see.  Brian would send him tae bide wi’ me a spell when he felt himself losing patience. Ellen understood him better.  Peas in a pod, those twa.”

The pair spoke of Jamie’s mother as the cart proceeded down the valley at a sedate pace.  They passed brochs and castles, farms and shielings, all in advanced states of dereliction.  It was a haunting landscape, emptied of life as though some biblical plague had swept through and rid the lush fields and overhanging moors of everything but sheep.

“Ellen was a proud woman,” Murtagh explained.  “She was a Mackenzie, ken, from a branch o’ the clan that hadna suffered as much as most.  They didna approve o’ her marriage tae a mere Fraser crofter, sae when Brian wanted tae go tae her father tae ask fer help wi’ the rents, she refused.  T’would have saved them both a fair deal o’ hardship. The lad is no different.  He’d sooner suffer as compromise his damned principles.”  Murtagh gave Claire a shrewd look.  “T’will fall tae ye tae be the practical one an’ drag the stubborn oaf tae see sense.”

Claire sniffed in dismissal.  “I assure you, Mr. Fitzgibbons, I am more than equal to the task.”

***

Mrs. Crook’s weepy cries of relief brought Rosemary rushing into the kitchen where she came across a sight that cracked her usual unflappable poise.

“Claire!” she cried, throwing her arms around her niece.  “Murtagh??”

“Hallo, Rosemary. Ye’re lookin’ well,” the hermit said, tam clutched between his hands and a blush detectable beneath his scraggly beard.

Pulling herself together, Rosemary asked Mrs. Crook to prepare a warm meal for the pair, despite Murtagh’s protestations that he couldn’t stay.

“Nonsense,” Rosemary insisted.  “It’s gone eight o’clock.  You can’t make your way home in the dark.”  With a significant look, she added, “The men are out searching for Claire.  They won’t be back until at least tomorrow.”

Wooed by the promise of home cooked food and female companionship, Murtagh settled onto a stool before the great hearth and proceeded to charm Mrs. Crook with his Highland brogue and odes to her cuisine.  

Once fed Claire grew sleepy, no doubt worn out by the emotional tumult of the past two days.  Rosemary helped her to her bedroom and into her nightdress, then sat on the edge of her bed and began to brush the matts and tangles from her hair while Claire told the tale of her rescue.  She could make out scrapes and bruises on the young woman’s fingers where her hands lay clasped on the coverlet.

“This Highland lad,” Rosemary asked cautiously between strokes, “he didn’t… impose himself on you?”

“Jamie would never do such a thing!” Claire said, sitting bolt upright in indignation.  “He’s decent. Honourable.  We want to be married,” she added quietly.  “He’s going to ask father’s permission once he’s saved up enough money to start our life together.”

Rosemary sighed.  “I was afraid it was something like that.”

“Will you help us, Aunt Rosemary?” Claire asked, sounding more like the girl she’d raised like her own.

“I can try, but I can’t promise anything.  You know how strong willed your father can be when it comes to his daughter.”

Claire bit her lip, every morsel of doubt and inquiry visible on her transparent face.

“What is it, child?” Rosemary prodded gently.

Unable to contain the gathering suspicion she harboured, Claire blurted out, “Am I really his daughter?”

Rosemary startled visibly before once again donning her smooth mask.

“What did Murtagh tell you?” she asked with an intimation of dread.

“Nothing,” Claire sighed.  “But he had a picture of my mother in his hut.  And you two are obviously acquainted.”   When her aunt didn’t reply, she resorted to begging until Rosemary gave way.

“Once upon a time,” her aunt began, as though telling her a bedtime story, “there lived a young woman named Julia Morriston.  She was beautiful, free-spirited, and used to being the centre of everyone’s attention.  She met two best friends at a country dance, and both fell hopelessly in love with her. They competed for her affections as young men do, until finally she declared that the first to make his fortune would win her hand.  It was a childish impulse that had lasting ramifications we all live with to this day.”

Rosemary looked pained; her profile turned to the window as though she was seeing the decades-old scene play out across the frosted glass.  

“One young man pulled together every pound he had and gambled in one bold stroke on a horse named Blair Atholl in the Derby.  He won, at fifty to one odds.  He was rich.”

“Father,” Claire said, very familiar with the story of how the Beauchamp family fortune came into existence.  “And Murtagh?” she asked.

“Murtagh,” Rosemary smiled wistfully, “decided to try his hand at making whisky.”

***

Claire woke the next morning to the lowing of cattle and the crack of a stock whip.  Rushing to her window, she watched Jamie and Rollo drive the stray cows down the lane and into the nearest holding yard.  The Highlander sat tall and proud in the saddle, his sweaty hair the colour of a banked fire where it met the early morning light.  Sensing her gaze, Jamie looked up and broke into a glinting smile that shot an arrow of joy directly at her heart.  Anticipating his arrival at the manor house, Claire hastened to make herself presentable.

Jamie was bone-weary but burning with the flame of victorious virtue.  He’d retrieved Beauchamp’s cattle; every last recalcitrant one of them.  Even the prospect of having to search for a new position far from his Sassenach lass couldn’t quite dampen his spirits, especially when he caught her watching him with frank female appraisal.  He stabled Donas, performed some brisk ablutions at the well, and hastened towards the manor, careful to enter via the kitchen since he was still in his filthy riding clothes.

“Ye’re back early,” Murtagh said once he had extricated himself from the arms of the Netherton cook.  “We didna expect ye back til teatime.”

“Clearly,” Jamie chuckled, watching Mrs. Crook bustle about in artificial busyness, ignorant of the fact her apron was untied and askew over her ample bosom.  Murtagh’s expression was one of long suffering.

“I was jus’ getting Miss Beauchamp’s breakfast ready,” Mrs. Crook said.

“I’ll bring it up tae her,” Jamie offered.

“We really should be going, lad,” Murtagh advised.  “Ye dinna want tae be here when Henry returns.”

Jamie fixed his jaw.  “We’ll go in a bit.  I willna leave wi’out seeing Claire.”

Murtagh and Mrs. Crook shared a look of concern as the young Scot hoisted the breakfast tray and made his way up the stairs.  

Jamie hesitated on the landing, unsure which of the ornate doorways led to his lady’s bedchamber.  He was saved any further indecision when one opened and revealed a vision from his furtive imaginings.  Claire stood there in a pale dressing gown.  Her hair was unbound, billowing in endless tannin-dark ripples that called to mind the burns of his youthful roaming.  He wanted nothing more than to lose his hands in its depths, cradling her to his breast. With a start he realized he could do just that, if only he could convince his feet to move.

“Claire…” he pronounced in supplication.

“Jamie.”

It felt like a month since they’d seen each other last, and not a mere day.  Claire opened the door wider and beckoned him in.  Jamie walked forward as though caught in a trance.  Ignoring the luxurious appointments of the room, he lay the tray at the end of the bed and turned to find she’d closed the door behind him. His pulse beat violently in his throat.

“I’m so happy you came,” Claire said, her voice unusually wispy, as she clasped his chilled hand in her much smaller one.  “Your godfather drove the cart so slowly, I was worried you’d be gone before we even arrived.”

“With a beautiful lass fer company, who can blame him fer tarrying? Besides, I wouldna have left wi’out seein’ ye one more time.”

“Jamie, my aunt told me…”

Claire didn’t have a chance to finish her revelation before the sound of boots hastening up the wooden stairs was followed by the door to her room swinging open with a bang.  The two lovers startled apart at the sudden appearance of Henry Beauchamp, his usual kempt clothing messy and his eyes switching from relief at the sight of his daughter to displeasure when he noticed her company.

“My sincere gratitude, Mister Fraser, for my daughter’s safe return,” he said with barely veiled hostility.

“Twas nothing any decent man wouldna have done in my stead,” Jamie replied humbly, placing a subtle emphasis on the word decent.

“Would you join me in my study, so we can speak, man to man?”

“Aye.”

Jamie met Claire’s concerned golden gaze and attempted to assure her with a failed wink.  He followed her father back down the stairs and into a wood-paneled room with a view over Netherton’s expanse of property.

“When did you find Claire?” Henry began.

“Twa nights ago,” Jamie answered honestly, and without any further clarification.  Henry grunted as though his poorest opinion had been confirmed.

“You seem to care very much for my daughter,” he went on.

“I do.  I love her,” Jamie said plainly, unwilling to hide or be ashamed of the fact.

“Love,” the older man scoffed with a shift in tone towards open animosity.  “It’s a damn selfish kind of love.  To take a girl who’s been brought up surrounded by riches and stick her in a sod hut, to watch her grow old with hard work and childbearing.”

“I reckon that’d be Claire’s decision tae make,” Jamie’s voice rose with his temper.  “Ye arenna the only one who can make something o’ himself.  I have plans fer my own place.”

“Well, make your plans with someone else’s daughter.  I won’t hand her over to the first teuchter gold digger who arouses her fancy…”  The implications of just which fancies had been aroused were implied without being spoken.

“You bastard!” Jamie’s temper broke, unable to bear Claire’s reputation being disparaged, by her own father no less.  He took a broad step towards the shorter, slighter man, hands balling into fists.

“Steas, Seumas!”  Murtagh’s voice boomed across the room, freezing his godson in his tracks.

The Englishman stared at his one-time best friend as though he’d seen a ghost.  Murtagh, for his part, seemed unaffected by their reunion.

“Henry Beauchamp,” he intoned.  “I barely recognized ye wi’out yer musket.”

“Musket?”  Claire had descended the stairs at the sound of Jamie’s shouting.  “What does he mean, father?”

“All of you, get out of my house!” Henry shouted, his face a startling shade of red.

“Or ye’ll what?” Murtagh goaded him.  “Blow off the o’er one?”

“Murtagh, really,” Aunt Rosemary chided, having also come to the study when she heard raised voices.

“I only shot to warn you off,” Henry muttered.

Murtagh chuckled and patted the loose leg of his pants.  “I’d hate tae see what ye’re capable of when yer intentions are serious.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Claire pleaded.

“Go to your room!” her father begged to no avail.

“Oh, come along, Beauchamp.  Let’s be done with this secrecy once and for all!”  Rosemary said, turning towards her niece.

“Murtagh wanted to give your mother a wedding gift, a strand of Scotch pearls.  Your father came upon them and assumed the worst.  He flew into a rage, and Murtagh was shot.  Julia was furious.  She vowed she’d never forgive her husband and wanted a divorce…”

“Enough!” Henry cried, rushing from the room, unable to bear another word.

“In a way, she did leave him,” Rosemary continued philosophically. “When you were born.”

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Claire rushed to embrace Murtagh. After freezing a moment in shock, he held her gently in his arms and whispered something softly to her in Gaelic.

“There now, lass.   Dinna weep. Tis no’ the end o’ the story, tis only the beginning.   Ye an’ the lad can right the wrongs o’ yer elders.”

Rosemary cleared her throat.  “You two really should be going, before Henry comes back.”

Murtagh and Rosemary discretely left the young pair alone to say their goodbyes.

“Stay close tae yer aunt,” Jamie advised once Claire was in his arms.  “And dinna antagonize yer father o’ermuch.”

Claire leaned back in his embrace, fixing him with her golden gaze.

“Come back to me, James Fraser,” she leaned her forehead against his own.

“Aye,” he vowed.  “As soon as I can.”

[lunar-years]

omg i love your prompt fill fic so much! it was great. also LOL at roy getting a taste of how keeley felt in s2. im imagining r&k being sick or something and like hiding in a closet or something bc they dont want to hurt his feelings but they also need a minute away from jamie and his endless hot water bottles and boxes of tissues.

thank you!!! also I am very much laughing at the image of R&K hiding from Jamie for a breather from his mother-henning. SO real 💖 Roy fusses every bit as much as Jamie when it's his turn to be caretaker, but he's far worse than Jamie as a patient, lol. Poor Keeley when she's the one sick and she has BOTH Jamie and Roy for overbearing nurses.

[dontfeeltoohot]

Here to copy/paste the thought I texted you about 🤣 ~ KB

So y’know how like sometimes for tv shows or movies like actors will have to pretend to be sick or pretend to sneeze or whatever

Jamie’s doing a scene where he has to fake it. But JQ is acting opposite him and is actually sick and keeps fucking up the takes. And it’s like he’s gotta pretend to be well

Idk something about the star difference of JQ tryna keep his shot together while Jamie’s pretending to be sick and the the directors like “CUT” and they both immediately switch

“Christ, Joe,” Jamie frowns as the other man gives what can only be described as a miserably sick sounding sniffle. “Where’d you pick this bug up?”

“I don’t-snf! don’t kndow,” the younger man swipes at his nose, scrunching it up in the process.

“The irony of me being sick in the scene we’re shooting today,” the blonde tuts, pressing a large handed palm to the curly haired man’s just barely pink cheeks.

They’ve been filming all week for their upcoming movie. Cliche as it was, when Jamie’d heard his best friend was auditioning, well…he might have sent in a tape to the casting director. Three months later both he and Joe were getting calls that they’d nabbed the roles- lovers facing the harsh realities of being out in the 1990’s. It’s a smaller film made by a smaller crew, but they’re all banking on it heading to Sundance due to the theme.

The scene they’re filming today has Jamie in bed, ill and miserable while Joe takes care of him. The older of the two wishes it were the other way around, what with Joe looking like he could play his role perfectly. Both heading into hair and makeup, he can’t help but nod along when a few of the artists comment on how sick the man looks.

“I’m okay, really,” he assures, and Jamie snorts quietly from the other end of the long table.

“That’s why you sound like you’ve been yelling for hours and like you can’t breathe, of course, how silly of us.”

“It’s really n-not thahht bad,” Joe sniffles wetly, and Jamie can already see the crease between his eyebrows drawing, can see the man’s eyes start to flutter as he brings his hand up to his mouth and nose. “hh’IKTSHiew!”

“Bless y-“

“H’aeTSCHiew!”

“-ou.”

“snfsNF! Ugh, sorry, thank you love,” Joe directs towards his makeup artist for the day, Megan, as he drops his hand.

Jamie bites his lip and refrains from mother hen-ing Joseph about how he should sneeze into his arm or his shirt or something other than his hand. Instead, he tilts his face for better access, Lauren starting to work on making him appear paler.

It doesn’t take too terribly long for them to get on set and placed where they should be in the bedroom. Jamie’s in a matching set of striped red pajamas, a soft blue blanket draped around his shoulders. Joe’s in a white polo and black, unbuttoned, heavyweight shirt and jeans. He knows the other man wishes they could swap. Jamie lays against the bed, trying to get in the mindset of someone ill, trying to force himself to believe his throat’s sore, that his face feels too warm bc his body feels too cold.

Joseph is talking to Bryan, their director, coughing and sniffling the entire time. Jamie watches, knowing that soon he really will be coming down with something too. There’s no way to avoid the germs when they’re supposed to be cuddling and kissing. If Joe’s voice is too obvious, even with the meds and tea he’s been downing all morning, maybe they’ll wait a day or two.

The first three takes are mostly used for different blocking, camera angles and suggestions mostly towards Jamie about seeming a little more pouty. He cringes inwardly, always one to find pouty sick people annoying. They start up again.

“Darling, do we have more tea?” Jamie calls out, altering his voice well enough it sounds congested and like his throat’s sore. Joe pops his head into the room, leaning against the door frame.

“You’ve already finished your first?”

Jamie nods and lays his puppy dog face on thick. He goes to cough, but the other man beats him to it, letting out a shallow, barking cough that most of the crew winces at. Jamie itches to rub his back and whisper that he’ll be ok.

The next take, they get through seven seconds before Joe’s sneezing, trying to muffle it as best he can. Another take. Another cut. The cycle repeats itself, until they finally get further and further along.

“But I need you to warm me up, a blanket isn’t enough,” Jamie pouts, tugging on Joe’s shirt.

Joe chuckles, and the elder can see his eyes are bright with fever.

“Oh, well if you insist. You’re lucky you’re so charming when you’re so full of cold, or I’d be running for it,” Joe lays back and brings Jamie into his arms, while the taller of the two fake coughs into his arm, sniffling after. They kiss, and Jamie can feel the curly haired man’s nose twitch.

They’re almost done when Joe, who’s been fighting off an obvious fit, can’t tamper it down any further, and he presses his hands to his face. Jamie raises ever so slightly as Joe’s chest expands with air, then moves so he’s not completely against him.

“HIkSH’ew! EhhITSCHiew! snfsnf! ihiYKSh’uhew! aiGKTSch’EW!”

“Bless you,” Jamie murmurs, looking at the man worriedly.

“Cut! Okay, let’s take a few minutes to regroup…”

[lirusstories]

Hen is (not) a Vampire - Septic/Egotober Day 22

TW: None(?)

Egotober: Vampire

Septictober: Scary Stories

Word count: 525

Sammi, Jamie and Oliva have a plan to prove whether or not Uncle Hen/ Oliva’s dad is a Vampire or not. 

Their reasoning why he might be:

Awake most of the night

Tired during the day

“Burns Easily”

Sneezed when Chase/Sammi and Jamie’s dad put too much garlic in something

Doesn’t like mirrors.

Has sharp teeth

Always knows when they’re planning something.

Weirdly fast.

Their reasons for why he’s not:

Doesn’t like being awake at night

Doesn’t burst into flames in sunlight

Eats people food

Has a reflection

Still eats garlic.

“Are you sure about this.” Oliva asks with Uncertainty.

“Of course! If he is, it won't destroy him but it will shock him.” Sammi hums, hiding a small cross in her uncles coffee cup before hopping off the counter.

“What what if he’s not a vampire?” Oliva asks, a bit timid.

“Then nothing will happen!” Jamie reassures her, “The humans were the ones with the crosses remember?”

“I still can't, you made me read that, the story was scary.” She grumbles.

Sammi looks like she’s about to say something before whisper shouting. “Oh shoot hide!”

The three of them scramble under the dinner table to watch as Henrik groggily makes his way over to the finished coffee maker, not even bothering to check his cup as he pours it in plainly.

The three kids watch him from under the table with bated breath as he takes a drink out of his way to hot coffee and not even flinch before he gets a weird look on his face and opens his mouth and pulls out the small wooden cross.

Henrik looks at it weirdly before scoffing and tossing it onto the counter and leaving with his cup.

“So what does that mean?” Oliva asks once they’re sure he’s gone.

“That he’s not a vampire I guess.” Jamie hums thoughtfully.

“Maybe we could try garlic next time?” Oliva suggests looking at the pair of twins questionably.

“No he still ate what daddy made him.” Sammi sighs, trying to think of something else.

“Maybe silver?” Jameson suggests but Oliva shakes her head.

“No, the ring ex mom gave him was silver.” Oliva tells them, a bit uncomfortable thinking about her biological mother again. She was alone in the house for days until her dad visited…

Oliva shakes her head out of that thought as Jamie reaches over and grabs her hand comfortingly when he sees her eyes go distant.

“Maybe we could just ask him?” Jamie suggests and Sammi and Oliva look at each other.

“Do you think he’d tell the truth?” Sammi asks, looking back at her brother.

Jamie shrugs, “Worth a shot?”

He looks to Oliva who thinks for a few moments before nodding.

“Alrighty then! Let's go ask him!” Sammi exclaims happily before crawling and the other two follow her out.

“Right now?” Oliva asks, a little nervous.

“No time like the present!” Sammi explains before the three of them are making their way upstairs to Henrik's room.

Henrik sighs fondly, hearing them talk loudly as they make their way upstairs, chuckling to himself. Oh how he loves these kids and their shenanigans.

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[ellecdc]

This is me reading amwap at 5am:

Really like, James AND Regulus losing their minds over nargles. I lost it when James was like, Oh gods its starting and Reg bringing all his stuff in the hospital wing 🤭

ALSO SIRIUS BEING THE MVP IN THIS CHAPTER! He's such a big brother I want one pls. Keeping everyone together AND spending the morning tracking reader?

THEN finally Jamie and Rem talks and sort everything out, AND Remus finally talking to reader properly

That muggle heart rate monitor? It’d be showing no signal at this point. - startled a laugh out of me that made my cat jump

And also I see a lot of potential with reader dropping more one liners that makes Sirius laugh.

Thanks for helping start my day good, loveyyyy 💓

Oh my fricken god I love youuuu

First of all - why are you awake at 5 am? Remus would be very concerned about your sleeping habits.

Everyone was definitely being silly goose’s this chapter I won’t lie - I’ve never related to Sirius more than this chapter watching him try to deal with everyone. I kinda like how usually James is the mother hen but obvs he’s outta commission rn so Sirius is like “well, someone’s gotta do it.”

Poor rem, i feel for him - I really do. But everyone and their mother was like “mate what were you thinking????” But I’m glad he and James are friends on again - they’re too sweet to stay mad for long.

Tell your cat “pspspspssspsps” and that I’m v sorry for causing you to startle them.

And believe me - reader is gonna be a savage and Sirius will be smitten hahahaa

Have a great day babes!! (We have like 12 hour time difference between us which is so fun for me).

Also I love Shirley temple okay thanks love you byeeeee

[jamesonxcarter]

PRESENTING . . . JAMESON CARTER

full name: jameson henning davis-carter

nicknames: because of his large extended family, he's had a number of nicknames including james, jamie, jay, jj, jc, jimmy, dave, davie, carter, henny, hennessy (only by his baby sister)

age: thirty-eight

date of birth: february 10, 1985

hometown: covington, georgia

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him/his

occupation: professor of anthropology, true crime podcaster

family: everyone under the sun; emmett carter (father), cassidy davis-carter (mother), asher franklin carter (nephew), eliana almeida (paternal cousin)

living arrangements: orchird park

IN A NUTSHELL . . .

miscarriage tw, fertility issues tw, depression tw, addiction tw, cheating tw

born into the large davis-carter clan, jameson was surrounded by family as far as the eye can see. this meant that there were no secrets, no disobedience allowed. the family was tight knit and stressed the importance of being there for each other at all costs. through thick and thin, family was paramount. while this remained true for jameson, he got his first taste of freedom when he left for college just under an hour away at emory university. he met his wife there and as soon as they graduated, they were married. he continued to turn to education as a way to stall his inevitable return to covington, and then on his career. after a number of fertility issues, he killed his marriage by choosing to save his wife over their unborn child. raised to think marriage was until death, they tried to stay together but they were living completely separate lives. which was why it was no surprise when he caught his wife's affair. with a valid reason to separate, jameson returned to covington and his alma mater to teach. recently, he's stepped into the role of guardian for his one year old nephew, asher, while his youngest sister is in rehab.

IN THE WEEDS. . .

It takes a village to raise a child. For the Carter family, they needed to look no further than a few houses to their left and right. Covington was their home for generations, with few looking beyond its borders for fulfillment and thrill. Family was paramount. And family meant Covington. Thanksgivings alternated between grandparents, aunts, and uncles’ houses. No family was extended. They were all just one. It was in this bustling and boisterous environment that Jameson Carter was raised. Surrounded by cousins and two siblings of his own, it was almost impossible to get a moment to be alone. To be by himself. Growing up with a clan that made up half the town made it extremely difficult to rebel. So even if wanted to sneak over a friend’s house to try alcohol when he was fifteen or dabble in truancy to take a girl out to Lake Shoal, it would inevitably find its way back to his parents, and by extension, the entire family. It was impossible to keep a secret, and that was precisely what kept Jameson on the straight path.

He was nothing less than a nerd. With a father on the force, he grew up listening to stories of crime and punishment. Some convinced him that the justice system in his small town was impeccable. Others made him doubt that conviction. Graduation meant leaving his tight knit community. But he didn’t venture far, double majoring in psychology and anthropology in Emory. He was fascinated by people, but his own family structure had him intrigued by cultures beyond his own. Freshmen year exposed him to a whole world of freedom he never felt before. Overwhelmed by the lack of oversight for the first time in his life, Jameson had his typical movie like college life. With the same cliché whirlwind romance. They met as stupid eighteen-year-olds, stumbling into the same Intro to Organic Chemistry class. And the rest was history. Which was the exact terrible pun Jameson used when recounting this story at their wedding a short two years later.  

The decision was shortsighted and naïve. As fresh-faced twenty-one years olds, it was easy to venture into the world with unbridled optimism that love was all they needed. But as they grew together, they also realized that maybe their experiences weren’t as compatible as the bubble that was college taught them. She wanted a family. He wanted to finish his degrees and establish himself before they set down roots. A part of him knew that the moment he finished his education, the pressure from his family would pick up for him to come back home. His freedom extended only so far as his education. Which was why from Georgia, he went to North Carolina. It was his first step away from his home state. Not too far, but enough to give him the separation he needed. The next step was Illinois. A PhD from Northwestern gave him a handful more years to find it in him to shake off the guilt that was eating away at him. Meanwhile, his wife was waiting on the dream she had for them to start a family together, that he kept stalling.

Jameson knew he wanted a big family, just like the one he grew up with. Eventually, he wanted to go back to Covington. But Christmases and Thanksgivings back reminded him both of what he loved, and hated, about his relatives. “I didn’t get the position.” He said when asked why he wasn’t trying to teach in Georgia. Instead, he ended up Houston next, his first position teaching. It was also the first place he got to put his degree to work outside the classroom as he was called upon to help a series of cold cases that they had struggled to crack. And as he finished the first exhilarating case, his wife slapped him with an ultimatum. The years had been rough on them as it was, and she was tired of him wagoning her around the country. It was time for her dreams. It was time for their family. And he agreed. Brought up in a house where marriages lasted forever, he did not want to see this one crumble.

Life had other plans for them. It couldn’t have been too late. They were both only just entering their thirties. But after three years of trying to conceive, going to doctor after doctor, they were finally pregnant on December 25. A true Christmas miracle. The pregnancy test was left in the trash in his family house and before he even learned the news, everyone was congratulating him. Maybe there was a reason that pregnancies were kept a secret until after the first trimester. Because the complications began almost immediately converting the excitement and jubilee into anxiety. Once again, they were in and out of doctors’ offices. Only this time, the last stay came with shocking news and a horrific decision. Mother or baby. He hit the last nail in the coffin that was their marriage when he picked his wife. When she woke up and claimed that he killed their baby, he didn’t know what to say. A house once filled with love, then anger, then anticipation soon was filled with apathy. They coexisted in parallel lives. Which was why when he was offered a better position in one of his alma maters, his wife didn’t go with him. She couldn’t uproot her life for him again. Long distance didn’t sting nearly as much as the discovery that she found comfort in the arms of another man. And the cheating didn’t sting nearly as much as the realization that her infidelity didn’t hurt.

The divorce was quiet and at an arms-length. Within a year of signing the papers, he realized the importance of having his family. Rather than returning to an empty, barren home, he surrounded himself with his relatives. The ones who, despite talking of his divorce to his face, at least cared enough to make sure he had food in his fridge. Taking a position in Emory, reacquainted himself to a life with no privacy. At thirty-seven, he learned that maybe he was the only one who struggled to keep his life hidden. His youngest sister announced that she was pregnant out of wedlock, the father of the child unknown to the family. Within a few months of delivery, the heartbreak and postpartum depression clouded her better judgment, and she took a few too many of her prescribed painkillers. And he learned for the first time that while he’d been roaming the country, his family back home had been counseling his baby sister through addiction. And as she was sent to get help, Jameson stepped in to be the guardian for her son while she got herself back on track.