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#should get to work and draw James too some day
valoale · 3 months
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Keepin’ it professional
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Been reading chew me up, but don’t spit me out by damagecontrol religiously for these past few days and let me tell you I am DEVOTED I mean, like, I love everything about it and my soul is for sale and I just had to draw Regulus is his docs despite being awfully rubbish at drawing shoes but shhhh it’s a good practice
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herstoryheaven · 21 days
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Descendants James Hook x Reader: Melting Under His Gaze
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Request: Hi, me again! You don't have to do this lol, but I was wondering if you could do one where Elsa's daughter / us go to Auradon or more so Merlin Academy and meet James.
Reader: Female
Word count: 4307
Average reading time: 15 min 40 sec
Category: Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: This story contains themes of grief, self-doubt and fear of losing control. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with care.
Author's note: Due to the time period of the movie, the reader is Elsa's sister instead of daughter.
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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.
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Y/n had always known her place in Arendelle. As the middle child, she was neither as responsible as Elsa nor as carefree as Anna. But like Elsa, she was burdened with a secret. The same icy powers coursed through her veins, a frosty magic she was taught to suppress. "Conceal, don't feel." had become her mantra, whispered to herself during sleepless nights and quiet, lonely days.
After the devastating news of their parents' death at sea, the castle felt emptier than ever. The corridors that once echoed with laughter now held only the heavy silence of grief. Elsa, at eighteen, was suddenly thrust into the role of queen, while Y/n, at sixteen, found herself struggling to keep her emotions and her powers in check. Anna, fifteen and still full of youthful innocence, tried her best to lift everyone's spirits, even as she dealt with her own heartbreak.
Tonight, as the sisters sat together in the dim light of the castle’s drawing room, Y/n unfolded a letter she had received earlier that day. The parchment crinkled in her trembling hands, the weight of the words inside pressing down on her.
“What’s that, Y/n?” Anna asked, glancing up from the embroidery she was working on. Her voice was light, but there was a trace of concern in her eyes.
Y/n hesitated, her gaze flickering to Elsa, who sat quietly by the window, lost in thought. Elsa met her eyes and gave a small, almost unnoticable nod. Y/n took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s... just something from school.” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
Anna’s face lit up with curiosity. “School? Are they starting classes again? It must be a distraction at least, right?”
Y/n nodded, though her thoughts were far from the normalcy of schoolwork. “Yeah, something like that.”
Anna frowned slightly, sensing something was off, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she returned to her embroidery, her movements slower, more distracted. Y/n could tell that Anna was still struggling with their parents’ death, just as they all were.
As the evening wore on, Anna excused herself, saying she was tired. “I think I’ll head to bed.” she said, standing and stretching. “You two should get some rest too.” She leaned down to hug Elsa first, then Y/n, before slipping out of the room with a soft, “Goodnight.”
The moment the door closed behind Anna, Y/n let out a shaky breath. She unfolded the letter again, staring at the elegant script. “I’ve been accepted to Merlin Academy.” she said quietly, more to herself than to Elsa.
Elsa turned her gaze from the window to Y/n, her expression a mix of pride and concern. “It’s a great opportunity, Y/n. You’ll be able to learn so much about your powers, about yourself.”
Y/n’s voice trembled as she spoke, the fears she had kept buried for so long surfacing in a rush. “But what if I can’t control it, Elsa? What if I hurt someone? What if they find out?”
Elsa stood and crossed the room to sit beside Y/n. She took her sister’s hand in hers, her touch cool but comforting. “I know it’s scary. I feel that fear too, every day. But Merlin Academy is where you’ll be safe. It’s where you’ll learn to control your powers, to understand them. You won’t be alone.”
Y/n nodded, but the doubt lingered. “And what about Anna? She doesn’t know. How can I leave without telling her the truth?”
Elsa’s expression softened with sympathy. “Anna has already lost so much. I think it’s best if we keep this between us, at least for now. She doesn’t need another burden to carry, not right now.”
Y/n’s heart ached at the thought of keeping such a big secret from Anna, but she knew Elsa was right. Anna was already struggling to cope with their parents’ death, adding the truth about their powers might be too much for her to process.
“I’ll write to her often.” Y/n said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll tell her it’s just a regular school. But Elsa... I’m scared.”
Elsa wrapped an arm around Y/n, pulling her close. “I know, Y/n. I’m scared too. But you’re strong, stronger than you think. And no matter what happens, we’ll always have each other.”
Y/n leaned into Elsa’s embrace, drawing strength from her sister’s calm presence. The path ahead seemed intimidating, filled with uncertainty and fear. How could she hide what she was for an entire school year?
-----
When Y/n arrived at Merlin Academy, the grand stone castle seemed to tower over her, its ancient walls full of mysteries and magic. The place was alive with energy, a big contrast to the quiet halls of the castle in Arendelle. Here, students openly showcased their powers and talents without fear. Fire danced on fingertips, water swirled effortlessly, and the earth itself seemed to respond to the commands of one particularly enthusiastic student. But Y/n, true to her promise, kept her powers locked inside, her heart frozen with the weight of her secret.
Everywhere she looked, there was something magical happening, yet Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. Her steps were cautious, her demeanor guarded, as if any wrong move might shatter the fragile control she had over her powers. She avoided the crowds, keeping to the edges of the bustling groups, hoping to remain unnoticed. But she quickly realized that in a place like Merlin Academy, secrets were hard to keep.
It was during one of those early days, as she wandered the academy’s grand gardens alone, that Y/n first encountered James Hook. The moment she saw him, she knew he wasn’t like the other students. He stood out in every possible way. His crimson coat, tailored perfectly to his tall, lean frame, contrasted sharply with his dark hair, which fell in unruly waves just above his sharp, blue eyes. There was a dangerous sort of charm about him, the kind that warned of trouble even as it invited you closer.
Y/n had heard the rumors, of course. Whispers that followed him wherever he went about him being a ruthless pirate, about the lost treasure he was supposedly seeking within the academy’s walls. She knew enough to keep her distance, but it seemed that James had other plans.
While Y/n tried to find a quiet spot to study, she heard a voice behind her, smooth and laced with a hint of amusement. “What’s a delicate thing like you doing all alone out here?”
She turned sharply to find James leaning casually against a tree, his piercing blue eyes locked on her with a gaze that felt almost predatory, yet strangely protective. Her heart raced, a mix of fear and something she couldn’t quite place. 
“I prefer it that way.” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “Less… complicated.”
James’s lips curled into a sly smile as he pushed off the tree and came closer, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path. “Less complicated, hm? Or less risky?” He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “You don’t strike me as the type to avoid a little danger.”
Y/n swallowed, instinctively taking a step back. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you do.” he said, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “I’ve seen you, you know. Always on the outside, watching, but never participating. It’s as if you’re afraid of your own shadow.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. How could he have noticed her when she’d tried so hard to go unnoticed? “I’m not afraid.” she lied, lifting her chin slightly, trying to appear more confident than she felt.
“Is that so?” James mused, stepping even closer until he was just a few feet away. He looked her over, as if trying to unravel the mystery she had so carefully wrapped around herself. “You don’t fool me, Y/n. There’s something different about you. Something… intriguing.”
Y/n’s breath hitched at the way he said her name, like it was a secret only they shared. “What do you want, James?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
He smirked, leaning in just enough that she could catch a hint of the sea on his clothes. “Maybe I’m just curious. You don’t seem like the other students. You’re too… restrained. It makes me wonder what you’re hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything.” she insisted, her voice sharper than she intended. She could feel the cold creeping into her fingertips, and she clenched her hands into fists, trying to suppress the icy magic that threatened to reveal itself.
James’s eyes flickered down to her clenched fists, a glint of understanding or perhaps amusement crossing his features. “Everyone has something to hide, darling.” he murmured. “The trick is knowing when to reveal it.”
Y/n felt a chill run down her spine, and she stepped back again, desperate to put some distance between them. “I need to go.” she said quickly, turning to leave before he could say anything more.
But James wasn’t one to be dismissed so easily. “I’ll be seeing you around, princess.” he called after her, his voice laced with a promise that made her heart skip a beat.
As she hurried away, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that James Hook was more dangerous than she’d first thought and that he had already set his sights on discovering her deepest secret. But there was something else too, something that lingered in the back of her mind, unsettling and confusing her. The way his gaze seemed to see right through her, as if he understood her fear better than anyone else. Y/n found herself questioning whether she could truly keep her powers and her heart, frozen.
-----
One afternoon, Y/n sat near the sea, trying desperately to lose herself in the pages of a book. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore had always been a way to calm herself, a place where she could momentarily forget the icy storm brewing inside her. But today, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the thoughts swirling in her mind, the fear, the loneliness, the unbearable weight of her secret.
The book in her hands was just another attempt to distract herself, but the words blurred together as her anxiety crept up, tightening its grip around her chest. Just as she was about to close it in frustration, a shadow fell over her, blocking the sunlight and pulling her back to reality.
She looked up to see James standing before her, his familiar smirk playing on his lips. His dark hair was tousled by the sea breeze, and his blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something that made her heart skip a beat, even as her fear bubbled beneath the surface.
“Mind if I join you, princess?” he asked, but without waiting for her response, he settled onto the bench beside her, his presence both comforting and unsettling all at once.
Y/n stiffened, clutching her book tighter as if it could shield her from the emotions threatening to spill over. “I was hoping for some peace and quiet.” she murmured, her voice betraying the fear she was trying so hard to hide.
James leaned back, completely at ease. “Aye, I could tell.” he said, his voice smooth and warm, like honey. “But it’s the quiet ones who always have the most interesting stories.”
She kept her eyes fixed on the book, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to read another word. “There’s nothing interesting about me.” she replied, her tone flat, hoping to end the conversation before it could begin.
“Is that so, princess?” James raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more genuine, though no less intense. “I’ve seen the way you look at the others, like you’re afraid to get too close. What are you hiding?”
His words hit her like a punch to the gut. He was getting too close, digging too deep, and Y/n felt her control slipping. She stood up abruptly, the book nearly falling from her grasp. “Nothing that concerns you.” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. Panic was clawing at her now, threatening to break free.
But as she turned to leave, James reached out, his hand catching her wrist with a gentle but firm grip. His touch was warm, so different from the cold she carried within. “I think it does concern me.” he said softly, his voice losing its usual playful edge. “I can see it in your eyes, darling. You’re afraid, but of what?”
Y/n tried to pull away, but the warmth of his hand, the sincerity in his gaze, it all made her want to crumble, to let go of the iron grip she had on her emotions. She could feel the cold creeping up her spine, could sense the frost forming on her skin, and she knew she was losing control. “You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, her voice trembling with the effort to keep herself together.
“Try me.” James urged, stepping closer, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing, almost tender gesture.
But it was too late. The storm inside her was raging, and she could no longer hold it back. The fear, the loneliness, the crushing weight of her secret, all of it surged to the surface. A cold gust of wind whipped around them, and before she could stop it, frost began to spread across the ground, spiraling out from where she stood. The book in her hand fell to the ground, forgotten, as she clutched at her arms, trying to contain the icy power that was slipping out of her control.
“No, no, no…” she whispered, terror lacing her voice as she backed away, but there was nowhere to go. The ice was curling around her like a cage, and she couldn’t stop it. She felt the cold seeping into her bones, the frost creeping up her arms, and she knew she was seconds away from losing herself completely.
But instead of backing away in fear, James stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers, determent. “Y/n.” he called to her, his voice cutting through the chaos in her mind. “Look at me.”
She did, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The ice crackled and snapped around her, but James wasn’t afraid. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, the warmth of his touch chasing away the cold that threatened to consume her.
“You don’t have to be afraid.” he said, his voice low and steady, grounding her in the here and now. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Y/n’s breathing was unstable, the panic still clawing at her insides, but James’s touch, his words, they were like a lifeline pulling her back from the edge. “I—I can’t stop it.” she choked out, the tears finally spilling over and freezing as they fell.
“Yes, you can,” James whispered, leaning in until their foreheads touched, his warmth seeping into her skin, melting the frost that had begun to form. “You can control this, Y/n. I know you can.”
She wanted to believe him, but the fear was still there, gripping her heart in a vise. The cold was still there too, a deadly force she had never been able to fully tame. “I’m going to hurt you.” she whispered, her voice breaking with the weight of her fear.
“You won’t.” James murmured, his thumb brushing away the frozen tear on her cheek. “Not as long as I’m here.”
And then, before she could protest, before the fear could take hold of her again, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both gentle and firm. The world around them seemed to freeze for a moment, literally and figuratively, but then the ice inside her began to melt, slowly, as if his warmth was thawing the cold she had kept locked away for so long.
The kiss deepened, and with it, Y/n felt the storm inside her calm. The frost that had been spreading across the ground withdrawing, the biting cold in her veins dulled, and the panic that had consumed her began to fade. All she could feel was James, his warmth, his strength, the way he held her like she was something precious, not something to be feared.
When they finally pulled apart, James rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the cool air. “You’re not alone anymore, love.” he whispered, his voice full of quiet determination. “You never have to be.”
Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heart finally starting to slow to a normal rhythm. The ice inside her had faded, leaving only a faint chill that she could handle. She looked up at James, searching his eyes for any hint of fear or regret, but all she saw was warmth and an unexpected tenderness that made her want to cry all over again.
“Thank you.” she whispered, her voice still trembling but stronger than before.
“Anything for you, princess.” he replied with a soft smile, stealing one more kiss that made her feel a warmth she hadn’t known in years.
As the warmth of James’s kiss lingered on Y/n’s lips, the tension that had build up inside her began to loosen. The frost on the ground had melted away, leaving only damp patches where the ice had once spread. For a moment, the world felt still, as if holding its breath with her. But reality crept back in, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily on her shoulders.
Y/n took a shaky step back, her hand still entwined with James’s, but her mind already racing with a thousand thoughts. What had she just done? She had lost control, let her powers loose in a way that could have endangered him, and yet… he wasn’t afraid. Not only that, he had calmed her, brought her back from the brink, something no one had ever been able to do before.
“James,” she began, her voice hesitant as she tried to find the right words. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I could have—”
He silenced her with a gentle kiss on her hand, his eyes soft as they met hers. “You don’t have to apologize, Y/n.” he said, his voice steady, reassuring. “I told you, you don’t have to hide from me. I’m not afraid of what you can do.”
His words were like a balm to her unsettling nerves, but they also stirred something deeper within her,something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time, hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.
“But you should be.” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “Everyone else is. They always have been. Just like they have been of Elsa… She tried to protect me, to help me, but I could see it in her eyes. She was scared too.”
James’s expression softened even more, his gaze filled with understanding. “People fear what they don’t understand, love. But I’m not like them. I see you, really see you. And I’m not going anywhere, other then being by your side.”
Y/n felt her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto the warmth he offered, but the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of her mind. “But what if I lose control again? What if I hurt someone?”
“You won’t.” James said firmly, his grip on her hand tightening just enough to ground her. “Not as long as I’m here with you. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You don’t have to do this alone.”
The sincerity in his voice, the confidence he had in her, was almost overwhelming. Y/n felt the last of her defenses crumble as she nodded slowly, her heart aching with a mixture of fear and gratitude. “Okay.” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
James smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Good ” he said, pulling her into a gentle embrace. She hesitated for a moment before leaning into him, letting herself be held, letting herself feel safe.
For a few minutes, they stayed like that, the sound of the waves crashing softly in the background, the world seeming to fade away. Y/n felt herself relax more with each passing second, the ice within her settling into a quiet, manageable calm. 
But as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the shore, Y/n knew they couldn’t stay here forever. She pulled back slightly, looking up at James with a mixture of resolve and uncertainty. “What now?” she asked quietly.
James tilted his head, considering her for a moment before responding. “Now,” he said, “if we’re going to figure all this out, maybe it’s time you started practicing, really using your powers.”
Y/n held her breath, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at him. “You mean… now? Out here?” The idea of intentionally using her powers, after everything that had just happened, sent a shiver down her spine, but not entirely from fear. There was a part of her, buried deep, that longed to be free, to see what she could truly do.
James nodded, his expression earnest. “Why not? You’ve been holding back for so long, love. What if you tried letting go, just a little? You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be right here.”
His encouragement, so simple yet so powerful, struck a chord within her. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding, to stop fearing herself. She took a deep breath, feeling the familiar cold rise within her, but this time, she didn’t push it away. She let it fill her, let it flow through her veins like a river of ice.
“Okay.” she whispered, more to herself than to him. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of the cold, on the power that had always been a part of her. The air around her began to chill, the wind picking up as she let the ice take form.
James stepped back slightly, giving her space, but his eyes never left her. There was no fear in his gaze, only wonder and something that looked very much like admiration. “Don't fight it.” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Just feel the ice course through you and work with it, not against it.”
Encouraged by his words, Y/n opened her eyes, her heart pounding as she raised her hands, palms facing down toward her clothes. With a gentle flick of her fingers, the cold surged outward, wrapping around her like a second skin. The fabric of her clothes shimmered and began to change, the colors deepening into a rich, icy blue. The material lengthened and flowed like water, forming into a dress that sparkled with the light of a thousand tiny snowflakes. The bodice hugged her figure, intricate patterns of frost weaving themselves into the fabric, while the skirt flared out in an elegant, sweeping train. Even her shoes transformed, the delicate heels now made of glistening ice, as strong and tough as winter itself.
When she finally lowered her hands, Y/n could hardly believe what she had done. She stared down at herself, at the beautiful dress she had created, and for the first time, she felt a sense of pride in her powers, in who she was.
James, who had watched the entire transformation in awed silence, let out a low whistle. “Y/n.” he breathed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “You… you look absolutly stunning, I have never had the honor to be in the pressence of such a beautiful and powerful woman.”
His words made her blush, the warmth of his gaze almost overwhelming. She glanced up at him, suddenly shy, but the way he looked at her, like she was something you would only read about, made her heart skip a beat. “Thank you.” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief.
James took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “You should never have to hide this, Y/n. You’re amazing, and what you can do… it’s indescribable how beautiful it is.”
Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat. No one had ever spoken to her like this, had ever made her feel like her powers were something to be celebrated rather than feared. The sincerity in James’s voice, the way he looked at her with such affection, it was almost too much to take in.
He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. The warmth of his touch melted the last of her doubts, and she found herself smiling, really smiling, for the first time in what felt like forever. “I don’t know what to say.” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t have to say anything.” James replied, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gesture that sent a thrill through her. “Just remember this feeling. This is who you are, Y/n. Not the fear, not the doubt, this.”
The intensity of his words, the raw honesty in his eyes, made Y/n’s heart swell. Without thinking, she stepped closer, drawn to him by something she couldn’t quite name. And when James didn’t pull away, when he instead cupped her face with that same gentle touch, she knew, this was where she was meant to be. Y/n found herself glancing at James, feeling something new, a warmth that had nothing to do with her powers and everything to do with him.
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Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: [email protected].
Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.
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Requested by: @GlitchyDaRat
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djarinova · 11 days
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You should take it as a compliment / That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)
levi ackerman x gn!reader content - meet cute adjacent, mostly just abit of staring, cigarettes + alcohol mention, modern au words - 900 reputation event masterlist
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You can almost feel his eyes piercing the back of your head. A part of you wants to whirl around, to find where he's watching you from, to walk up to him and introduce yourself properly and formally, to steal him from the droves of boring people he has to speak to.
But you don't. You can't. It wouldn't be proper. Instead, you tap your fingers against the side of your leg and lean closer to the man—what's his name? James, Jeffrey… something with a J, you're certain—in front of you, trying to make out what he's saying. The conversation has been going on far too long, if you can even call it a conversation when you haven't been able to speak a word for the last 10 minutes, and your feet are beginning to ache from standing still so long—shifting your weight back and forth has kept the pain at bay for as long as it could.
He hasn't said a word to you since he arrived, although you're not sure when he would've been able to find the time, as it seems he's the most popular—or hassled—person at the party. You heard the whispers start as soon as he had stepped foot through the door.
“Is that really him?”
“There's no way he actually came!”
“I'm surprised he came alone! Doesn't he usually bring dates to these types of things.”
“I heard he's still close with the founder, y’know, Mr Smith? They've been close since their university days.”
“Mr Ackerm–”
“–evi Ackerman…”
“–Levi Ackerman–”
Of course you'd heard of him—Levi Ackerman—hard to get an invite to a party like this without knowing his name, and the reputation that preceded him. You never heeded the gossip, figured that most of it was born out of some kind of jealousy. But still, it was hard to ignore the eyes following his every move, and the whispers growing louder and louder the more people helped themselves to the complimentary champagne.
You try to keep your focus on mingling with the other party goers. Keep yourself busy with the pleasantries and the somewhat fake niceties, but as the umpteenth middle aged man with whiskey on his breath and unkempt hair attempts to compliment you into working for them—or into going home with them—you find your networking facade begins to slip, and so you excuse yourself from conversation.
You're half way towards the exit door when you find him again. He's stood by the window now, and you can see an unlit cigarette rolling through his fingertips.
Your feet root themselves to the floor for only a moment as you lock eyes with Levi, but it's enough to draw his attention fully away from the men talking to him. It's as though everyone else falls into the peripheral when he looks at you. He raises his eyebrow—an inquiring glance—but all he can do is watch as you scurry towards the coat check booth, your cheeks hot and your heart racing.
You mumble the number on your ticket as you slide the thin piece of paper across the desk, quickly thanking the woman as she hands you your jacket.
It's amazing just how quickly an event can go from easy to something you can't get away from fast enough.
And yet a part of you still wishes you were inside, even as the cool night air hits your face and reminds you that, no, this isn't all you are, there is so much more to your life and your job than these stupid networking parties, you find yourself missing the stuffy, intoxicating party.
Or, maybe more accurately, you miss him—his eyes on you, the soft smiles and the bashful, almost wary, looks from across the room. It's peculiar, you think, that your paths have never directly crossed before—that you and Levi have both attended the same parties, events, meetings, even lunches together numerous times and yet you've never had to speak a word to each other.
You make your way down the stairs, hoping to be able to call a taxi and make a quick getaway before your coworkers realise you're missing. It's quiet outside, empty, you count 7 people between the door and the bottom of the stairs—seemingly most of the party goers decided to take their smoke breaks on the few scattered balconies as opposed to the front of the building.
Only one other person is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and as you descend closer and closer to him your thoughts are suddenly able to catch up to why your heart is thumping so loudly.
How did he manage to get in front of me?
You blanch at the realisation—you'll have to walk past him to get to where you need to go. Your mind swirls, heat creeps up your neck and you're sure a shiver is threatening to crawl up your spine.
You pause again, just for a moment, as you reach the final step. And Levi looks up at you. Not a small glance, not a discrete look from across the room. He is clearly and unmistakably looking at you, as if for the first time. It's odd, being so close to him, having his undivided attention and knowing that no one is around to interrupt.
You wonder if he can sense your nervousness.
Your eyes flit down to his hands, and you see the still unlit cigarette.
“Care to join me?” He asks.
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buckybarnesisdaddy · 10 months
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All is Well Part 3
To Be Frank
Summary- Frank really can’t stand Ransom and his stupid shiny hair.
Pairings- Frank Adler x Dutchess!Reader, Bucky(Winter Soldier) x Dutchess!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Dutchess!Reader, Steve x Bucky (James) x Daisy!Reader, Jake Jenson x Precious!Reader.
Rating- Explicit, 18+
Warnings- polyamorous relationships, sex mentioned (PiV), Hand job, Oral (f receiving), 18+ only!!
Word count- 3.4 k
Authors notes- This was co-written with the lovely @theinheriteddutchess so go give her some love!! 💕 She knows Frank best so I had to follow her lead on this one! 🥰
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Previous
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A kiss to you, his wife, his Dutchess, a glance at the man next to you in bed; get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and check on the rest of the guys. Everyday started like this, it was perfect. Frank Adler is a simple man, he loves his wife, loves his boat, loves his niece, loves his job, and he has even grown to love some of the people in this house. Key word ‘some’ of them, and even that took time.
“Bucky? Breakfast ready?” He is answered by a grunt and a plate full of eggs and bacon shoved his way. He quickly eats his food and drinks is coffee in the silence of the morning. It’s blissful. He heads downstairs and checks on the guys down there. Jefferson gives him a wave through his open door, Cap grunts and pulls on his chains, Frank just shakes his head as he walks around the corner. He is greeted by a naked Ransom walking into his bedroom.
“Morning Frank!” Ransom says as he waves over his shoulder before he closes the door. Frank rolls his eyes, he keeps walking and grabs the bag of Mary’s things. He brings them upstairs and tucks them away in her bedroom. Shes off visiting her grandma for the summer but she will be coming back soon and her room should be ready. He grabs another cup of coffee before he heads out the door.
Frank goes to work as a part-time professor at the University. A job he got on his own merit and not by the strings pulled by his wealthy family. It’s only part time because he enjoys working on his boat too much to just give that up. Also, he needs to get out of the house sometimes because living in a home with two other women and about ten men wasn't easy. It is noisy, and there is always a mess wherever he goes. Frank suspects Ransom is the culprit because he doesn’t know how to clean up after himself, he prefers others to do it for him. Frank does not like Ransom, no one does. Except for Daisy and Precious and apparently you. And Jake, but Jake likes everyone. It is infuriating that you like hanging around Ransom… Frank doesn’t get it; the man is insufferable, yet Frank can hear you laugh in the other room when the Ransom makes another wisecrack on someone else's behalf. He dreads the day Ransom has a chance in your pants. It was bad enough that Winter moved in on you. That was a hard adjustment and Frank finally gave in but he draws the line at Ransom.
Frank likes Winter; the man is quiet and polite, careful. Too careful if you asked him, but with everything he'd been through, it was understandable. But over the past year Frank went from having just one person in his bed to having two. Winter is a blanket hog, woman hog, and a living furnace! He likes Winter, he does, but in the beginning Frank found himself a little frustrated. It was frustrating because it had taken you months of being with Frank before you allowed Frank to hug you. To get comfortable enough to relax and let your guard down around him. Frank had to work overtime with you, earning your trust to allow him in, allow him to change your life. But Winter walked in and within a week, the two of you had your arms wrapped around each other. That was the sight Frank was met with whenever he walked into any room. "He needs it", you would explain. And that was it. For all your bossiness and hard edge, when you saw someone in pain, you couldn't help reaching out.
Thankfully Ransom still has his own room in the basement with the others, because if you ever moved him into the bedroom, He thinks he might actually leave! Fucking Ransom, with his fucking sweaters and his fucking perfect hair. At least Winter has the decency to have bedhead when he wakes up. But not Ransom…and if he did, it still looks like it was styled by a professional. Winter doesn’t like him either, which helps them bond over the weeks that Ransom weaseled himself into their lives. Before that, they had eyed each other a little wearily at times. You were Frank’s, his Dutchess, and Winter was the wounded warrior who desperately wanted to be loved. Frank should have seen it coming.
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Frank is a married man, and Winter isn’t a homewrecker. Feelings grew and Frank had seen it slowly developing. You, Frank’s wife, his Dutchess, had seen Winter hurting, desperately needing comfort and love; you couldn’t help allowing him into your heart.You wanted nothing more than to show Winter that he had a home and was safe with you, with Frank even. When Winter arrived at the house he would only talk to Steve. Steve was a friend, even if he couldn’t remember everything, he knew he could trust Steve, and you. For some reason you felt… safe. With only two friends, Winter was bound to fall for you, Frank couldn’t fault him for that, you are wonderful, you are everything. After a few months went by Winter noticed how ‘at ease’ he felt with you, Frank noticed as well. The little things made him worry, the cuddles, the soft touches, they were intimate touches, ones that Frank would share with you and now you are sharing them with another man. Frank didn’t truly worry until you started to look at Winter the way you looked at him. Frank knew then. He had to bring it up.
“You like Bucky- Winter- whatever we are calling him.” It hung in the air for a moment. You smile for a moment at Frank being tongue tied but then you realize what he is saying and the smile fades.
“Yes.” You sigh. There was no denying it. You wouldn't lie to Frank. You wouldn’t lie to your husband.
It wasn't instantly okay though.
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Frank didn't want to lose you, and you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. You had to stop, Frank was your husband, you made a choice, you love Frank not Winter. But Winter was slowly opening up, trusting you and a few others in the house. He was starting to feel safe and at home. So when you stopped he couldn’t understand why there was distance, no cuddling, no touching?! And why you seemed to hesitate when just talking to him. It broke him, the first time he felt seen and loved in decades and now he messed it up, it had to be his fault, you are too good. Winter withdrew and kept to his room. Even Steve couldn't get him to come out and talk to him. Steve had to get to the bottom of it, asking you what was going on, if Winter had done anything or if you were upset with him.
“What?! No! Winter is perfect.” You exclaim. “I- Frank and I realized that feelings were starting to develop… and I love Frank.”
Steve nods and sighs. Steve wanted to help Winter but how could he tell you to forget about your husband to help his friend?! The mood changed after that and it made everyone on edge. Winter was different from the others, in all his strength, he was still a vulnerable man. Frank couldn’t help but feel guilty. Which was ridiculous, He had the right as the husband to not share his wife. Even if Jake and Steve don’t care, he does. Although Bucky turned out fine, too, right? He'd made tremendous progress. But Winter wasn't Bucky, the same face, same experiences, but a completely different man. Winter was still starting his road to recovery. And you…are a natural caretaker, Frank could see how hard it was not to help. To stand back and not do everything possible to make the man feel better, that wasn’t who you were. So, Frank made a decision.
“You have feelings for him and he needs you.” Frank sighs as he crosses his arms and leans against the counter. It’s late, everyone else is already asleep for the night. Frank worked on the boat a little too late, he was so caught up in trying to get his words just right that by the time he looked at his watch he knew he’d have to wait for the house to be quiet at night before he could have his word with you. “I still need you though. I love you and we made a vow-”
“Frank I’ve kept my distance-”
“Let me finish. I love you and I am your husband, so I know you. And I know it’s killing you to not be there to help him.” Frank rubs his face and the stands up straight. “I don’t know how this is going to work, but I know we need to make it work because I can see how sad you are. I can even see how sad Winter is. He needs you.” Frank admits, it’s a weird weight off his chest. He didn’t need to be coddled but Winter did, you need someone to coddle, take care of, it’s something you rarely got to do with him. It’s that moment he realized you need Winter as bad as he needed you.
“Thank you, Frank.” You pulls him close and kiss him. “I love you. Nothing and no one will ever change how much I love you.” Frank nods and kisses you again.
At first Frank didn’t want to see it at all. When he left for work, whatever went on, was separate. He didn’t see or hear and no one told him about it. It grew from there, walking into rooms without knocking, or sweet moments that just couldn’t be contained till Frank left, he grew to be slightly okay with it all. Nowadays, Winter seems to trust Frank and Frank even lets Winter help with the boat. As ‘horrible’ as Frank might have thought this would end up, it actually ended up to not be a disaster. Winter is better at calming you down when you are worried, Frank could do it but Winter is just better at it. Frank is better at coming up with solutions and fixing the problem. It was the best of both worlds. If Frank ever spotted you two kissing, it wasn't weird anymore. Seeing touches and hearing noises that Frank also pulled out of you wasn't odd. He wasn't even bothered by the look on Winter’s face afterward. That's when Frank realized Winter was part of this life you all were living and it was strangely fitting.
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Now, the ‘Winter Soldier’ made Ransom think twice about sneaking in and taking “advantage” of his wife, his Dutchess. And it was Winter’s loathing that turned out to be the thing that genuinely bonded them. Winter is a great bodyguard, constantly making sure Ransom didn't find a way to get his slimy hands on their woman. Frank doesn’t understand how Precious and Daisy even look at the man. He was just glad you didn't. You wouldn't. No way. No matter how Ransom made you laugh! You had him and Winter, that would be enough.
Frank really can’t stand Ransom, he doesn’t know what it is about him. Maybe it’s his stupid perfect hair, or his privilege that makes his hands soft and smooth unlike Frank’s rough ones. Maybe it’s the way he just assumes everyone should know who he is. Frank can’t put a finger on it exactly, he just knows he can’t stand the guy. Honestly, he didn't even feel sorry for washing his red Christmas sweater with that pretentious white sweater. Pink fitted Drysdale's bloated face perfectly. His yelling sounding through the house when he found out it was ruined? That still puts a smile on Frank’s face to this day. Winter glanced at him from the side of his eyes, quickly took another big bite out of his stack of pancakes, freshly made by Bucky for breakfast, and wisely remained silent. Though Frank swears the man's lips had lifted slightly.
Frank didn't feel guilty, not one bit. Not even when you theatrically held the Christmas sweater up that evening, "You forgot to put this away; it's freshly washed. Weird though, I could've sworn we put it away, seeing as it's summer!" You eye him, and Frank shrugs. He didn't need to say anything because you both know it had been him. "Ransom’s going to find out it was you when you wear it at Christmas."
"If he's still here at Christmas." Frank challenges and you sighs.
"He never wants to leave. He's already having fun with Daisy and Precious. He likes it here."
"As long as you don't-" Frank says under his breath.
"What?! Like him?" Dutchess asks.
"Sleep with him.” Frank corrects. You look away from him, which makes him suspicious. “You won't, right?” Frank asks a little more unsure and suspicious.
"The man probably doesn't even like me." You mutter say. That was bullshit, Ransom liked anyone he couldn't have and the man was already trying. There was a reason Winter had put a lock on the door a month ago.
"He does." Frank states. You blush, Frank notices.
"He does?" Even if Ransom had been standing in front of you naked saying, 'I want to fuck you!' You probably still wouldn’t have believed him.
"He's not getting in," Frank says firmly. "Also his hair is too shiny.” Frank says with a little annoyance, you can’t help but laugh.
"His hair is too shiny?? Come on, you're being ridiculous." You kiss his cheek and leaves the bedroom, bumping into Ransom along the way, your laugh drifting down the hall and pulling at Frank’s heart. What he really meant was, I don't want you to love him more than us; he's a dick that doesn't deserve you or anyone. Please don't fall for his stupid tricks. But he also really hated that stupid hair…and everything under it. He is lost in thought as you walk back in to retrieve your phone. You see Frank, his brow furrowed and lost in thought.
"Frank," you speak softly as you walk closer, placing your hand on his cheek, "I have you and Bucky; what more could I want?” You kiss him and leave again. Frank still can’t help but worry, sadly he has seen Ransom naked, and he's heard the others when they fucked him. Frank notices how Ransom watches you when you aren't aware. Maybe they should put another lock on the door or this time on his you. Frank didn't trust him one bit.
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*** 4 Months later- September ***
“Fuck!!! Yes, keep going!” Ransom moans as you stroke him in your hand. He stares down at your chest, still contained in your bra. “Please let me touch you?!” He begs. You smile and shake your head as you lean forward and press a kiss to his chest, grazing over his nipples while you quicken your pace with your other hand. Ransom moans loudly as he cums hard all over your chest, a little bit slipping beneath your bra. “Mmhmm fffuuuckkk!” He screams. You work him through it and then leave him to come down from his high a little more as you clean off your chest and hands with a wet rag, you toss him the rag after you’re done. “When will I finally be able to fuck and cum in that sweet pussy of yours. I mean I love your hands, chess but-”
“You know the rules, Ran. Now go, I still haven’t cum yet.” Ransom smiles and pulls your body close. You are still dressed except for your shirt. Ransom goes to lift your skirt, scrunching it right at your ass. You decided on a long flowy skirt today and Ransom is about to make that a problem.
“You know I’d love to stay and help you with that.” Ransom leans in to kiss you when the door swings open and Frank appears, Winter standing beside him.
“You know the rules, Ransom. You got your fuck, now leave while we take care of our girl.” Frank says as he moves close to you. Winter stares Ransom down as he walks by. Random sighs and shakes his head.
“I don’t get to cum in her and I don’t get to make her cum.” Random says as he picks up his clothes. “Seems to me you’re just devaluing her. Making her nothing more than a wet hole for me.” Winter turns to attack and you call him off.
“Winter, come here.” Winter walks over and you run your hands through his hair as you pull him into a kiss. You then push him to his knees, he goes willingly. A leg thrown over his shoulder and your flowy skirt thrown over him for privacy since he is still shy about being sexual around anyone other than you or Frank. He is eating you out in seconds, starting the job Ransom isn’t allowed to do “You want in my bed Ransom? This is how we are doing it. You have to earn your privilege,” you place your hand over Winter’s head, who is still below your skirt. “Mmhmm just like that, baby.” You moan and close your eyes for a moment. When you open them you look at Ransom, “Also, I’m the wet hole?” You question. “You’re the one who is already thinking about finding someone else to ride you after you leave. You are more than that but until you can be honest with yourself about what you need, then this is how it will be.” Ransom scoffs as he leaves the room. Frank turns his gaze back on you and kisses you deeply.
“I love you, Dutchess.” You smile against his lips.
“I love you too, Frank. Mmhmm I love you, Winter.” You say as you pull the man up from his knees.
“I love you, Dutchess.” He kisses you, you taste yourself on his tongue. “Who do you want to bring you over the edge?” You smile as you look at your husband.
“Frank, baby please.” You say and you pull him close.
“Gladly” he says as he kisses you and starts to undress. Winter kisses your shoulder.
“I will make sure you’re not disturbed.” Frank nods a thank you and Winter gives a small smile back.
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When Ransom finally managed to get you to believe him when he said he wanted you, the only way Frank agreed were two rules. These two things had to remain for him and Winter alone. Only they get to cum inside you and only they get to make you cum. Making you cum was special and only the men who truly loved you deserved that privilege. And cumming inside you was because Frank and Winter wanted to be the ones to claim you in that way. They have earned your love and devotion and they wanted that to be left for them. There was no birth control reason for it seeing as you are on the pill, it was more a relationship step that Ransom was nowhere near. Surprisingly Ransom agreed although he seems to be rethinking the agreement now. Your moans traveling down the hallway, the moans he hears but never gets to cause, they are different then the ones you make during sex with him. He wants to have all of you one day. He walks by Daisy’s room and hears late night sex happening in there too, then he hears a soft question and a happy, tearful answer.
“Yes, Bucky! I’d love to marry you. Stevie?”
“Looks like we’re getting married again, Daisy girl.” After is filled with more quick breaths and moans from what Ransom can only assume is the three of you. Daisy gets two men, Dutchess gets two men, does Precious, or whatever Jake calls her, have two men?
“Hey, precious!” She turns around and faces Ransom. “Got any room in your bed?” He smirks. She shakes her head.
“That is not a name you get to call me. Besides, is that really what you need.” She asks. Ransom's lip curls up as he fights to roll his eyes. “If you can't answer, then no bed. For now you need to go shower and clean up your room downstairs.” Ransom pouts a little. “Go now, no pouting.” Ransom leaves and Jake comes up behind Precious.
“Oh no, are you bringing home a stray?” He teases and Precious smiles and shrugs.
“Hmm, what do you think?”
Next
Taglist: @rainydayandmondays @theinheriteddutchess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @cjand10 @janineb86
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adorethedistance · 2 years
Text
About a Month - Jamie Drysdale x Reader (platonic!Trevor x reader)
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Based on this post by @mack-samo
Hockey Masterlist
Warnings: Swearing, making out, mild roasts
Words: 1475
Summary: A rest day with Jamie is rudely interrupted by Trevor’s return home, and your relationship is uncovered once and for all.
A/n: So I’m in a tiny tiny block but whatever it’s fine. This definitely isn't my best work but if I kept hacking away at it I would hate it and then never post it so voila.
“And I thought you invited me over to watch a movie,” I say softly against the surface of Jamie’s neck. He moves my head gently to meet my eyes before pressing another kiss to my lips. He mumbles,
“Are you complaining?”
“Not yet,” a cheeky grin spreads across my face despite neither me or Jamie pulling away; both of us nervously and excitedly breathing into each other’s mouths. Jamie reciprocates my smile and surprises me by excitedly grabbing my face in his hands and crashing our lips together once more. Running the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip causes his breathing to flutter dazedly and I bite back a cocky smile. The rookie duck chases after my kiss but I push him back by his chest and he hits the headboard of his unmade bed. He looks at me hazily, in awe of my entire being. Swinging my left leg over both of his, I’m kneeling over him leaning down to reconnect with Jamie. I take his adorable face in my hands and draw him back in for another kiss. Once intertwined again, I lower myself onto his lap and I feel him involuntarily sigh at the new point of contact. His hands are practically twitching with anticipation before coming to rest awkwardly on my waist. His touch is light, too light. I can tell he’s unsure of how much he should do.
The consideration is sweet but I’m aiming for something more.
Without breaking our kiss, I place my hands on his wrists and trail his hands up the length of my body before resting them on my ribcage. When he still doesn’t move, I take a moment to appreciate his extensive respect before guiding his hands over my grey graphic t-shirt, over the lace fabric of the black bralette I’m wearing today. Jamie lets out an involuntary whimper of excitement which makes me laugh into the kiss.
“You’re so adorable.” He flushes in embarrassment and buries his face in the exposed skin of my neck. “No, come back!” Jamie peeks up at my face long enough for me to tangle my fingers in his lengthy black hair. We resume our kiss, less frenzied this time; there’s a piece of innocence that wasn’t there before. We unintentionally sigh simultaneously and I look into his eyes, playing with the ends of his messy hair.
“Jamie?”
“Hm?” He answers without breaking eye contact.
“Can we get Chinese for dinner?”
“...Sure?” he laughs, seemingly confused.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Whaaaat?” I pester and pout, placing a soft kiss on his lips which he reciprocates.
“You’re cute.” Jamie presses another kiss on my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist. We’ve been switching between cuddling and making out for most of the day, just trying to rest as much as possible. Rest days are rare for us between hockey season being in full swing and the holiday season. But when our days off sync up, it’s inconceivable bliss.
The only issue is getting rid of Trevor. Easier said than done. Jamie and Trevor do everything together so naturally, they’d spend their off days together too. As a result, Jamie and I had to find a way to get some of the other ducks involved without them finding out either. Figuring out how to sneak around Trevor was a pain in the ass early on but Jamie and I have got a routine down now. Whenever they have time off, Mason unknowingly takes one for the team by hanging out with Trevor the whole day.
And it’s not that I don’t want to meet Trevor, I’m ready for anything! Jamie is the one with reservations. He said he would tell Trevor when he was ready, but I feel like he should be ready by now.
“Jame.”
“What’s up?”
“Are you gonna tell Trevor soon?”
“About us?”
“No, about the nepo baby article- yes about us!” I say sarcastically, waiting for an actual answer.
“Well-” Suddenly, we jump apart, startled by the sounds of the front door opening.
“HONEYY I’M HOOOOOME!” Jamie and I snap up at the sound of the front door opening and look at one another in panic. Both of us stare at each other in fear as we hear Trevor shuffle into the apartment. I quickly swing myself off his lap to plop down on the bed next to him. He gives me a pouty look.
“What do we do?!” I whisper shout.
“I don’t know!”
“HEY JAMIE, HAVE YOU SEEN THE-” Trevor’s familiar voice cuts off. I sit anxiously tuned in for the reason he stopped talking. After a long pause we hear him say, “Oh, Jamie, you dog.”
“I left my shoes by the front door,” I confess in a whisper. Jamie looks at me panicked. Trevor’s footsteps come closer.
“You invited someone over without telling me? Oh-” he cuts himself off again, leaning in the doorway upon seeing me and Jamie on the bed. Taking in Jamie’s messy hair and my shirt’s disheveled placement; it’s not hard for him to piece together what had been happening prior to his arrival.
“You’ve got yourself a girl, Jamo?” Trevor says incredulously.
“You’re not supposed to be back until 5.” I stare dazedly and absentmindedly pick a loose strand of my hair off of Jamie’s shirt. It didn’t even take me a moment, the comment is just instinctively fired out.
“How do you know that?”
“Oh my god, Z, get out.”
“No way, dude. I have too many questions. How long have you been keeping her from me?” Jamie hesitates to answer before deciding that what’s done is done.
“About a month.”
“Yeah, see, I have some lost time to make up for,” Trevor says before launching himself through the doorway and flying head-first onto Jamie’s bed where the two of us scramble to move out of the way. He lands directly in the middle with Jamie on the right and me on the left. “Sooo, where’d you guys meet?”
“You remember that one day I needed to go to Target and it was raining really hard?” Jamie butts in to contextualize our meet cute for Trevor.
“Yeah, I don’t know why you insisted on going.”
“Well, we were both leaving around the same time and as I’m about to step out I hear her say something. And at first I thought she was talking to me or something but when I turned around, I realized she didn’t have an umbrella and so I walked her to her car, we exchanged numbers, and the rest is history.” I snort out a laugh at Jamie’s abbreviated version of the story.
“That’s the skeleton of how it went. I asked him if I could hitch a ride under the umbrella and he was so nervous he didn’t speak the whole time. When we got to my car I gave him my number and the rest was history.” Trevor howls with laughter at the visceral image of Jamie being nervous.
“I give you too much credit, Jimbo. As if you could pull her.”
“And you’ve been single for how long?”
“Oh, you’ve got jokes.”
“Only when my boyfriend is being made fun of.” Trevor looks at me and then quickly over to Jamie. I follow his gaze and look at Jamie who’s glowing bright red. I guess I haven’t called him my boyfriend in front of him yet.
“Have you been dating for a whole month or does that include the talking stage?”
“Uh, no, two weeks of talking, two weeks of dating.”
“Is this even legal by the way?”
“What? We’re the same age!” Jamie argues against Trevor’s nonsense.
“Okay, okay, just making sure. I wouldn’t put it past you to go for someone a bit older.”
“Are you sure you’re not just projecting?” I seize the opportunity to poke fun at Trevor once more and he looks at me playfully. I stick my tongue out at him and laugh before leaning my head on Jamie’s shoulder. I feel him relax underneath me and as extra reassurance, I grab his left hand in both of mine.
“Seriously Jame, how did you end up with her?”
“Look. As fun as it is to see you flabbergasted about the idea that Jamie could ever date someone, we’re just trying to watch a movie.”
“Okay, okay, okay. I know when I’m not wanted-” Trevor gasps, cutting himself off, “Are you watching Top Gun? I love this movie- wait can you rewind?” He then squirms his way up the bed, settling between me and Jamie, forcing us to accommodate him and break our connection. Jamie looks at me, trying to apologize silently but I just smile and shrug. I reach an arm up around Trevor to play with the ends of Jamie’s hair once more.
“I forgot how comfortable your bed is!”
***
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mycupofrum · 4 months
Note
Hi!! Heres a drabble prompt if you are still taking them 😊
Sirius/James and a lazy weekend morning together ❤️
Hi!! 😊 Thank you for the lovely prompt! 💞 This is a slice of life drabble where they get to be happy and just enjoy life for once. Here's James and Sirius spending a lazy weekend morning together. Nsfw.
Rating: M
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Husband
The white and grey curtains before the balcony are parted, exposing a blue lake and a mountainous view in the soft hues of the morning light. Everything is quiet, save for the panting that fills the air.
Sirius's hips buckle up as the hot mouth sucking him off beneath the cover brings him to his climax. His back arches, and he clenches the sheets, a million stars exploding in his mind.
Ecstatic, he comes down slowly, still shivering when James's head emerges from beneath the blanket, his hair sticking everywhere even more than usual.
The hazel eyes appear bigger without the glasses, and he licks his lips, wearing a smug grin.
"How's that for a wake-up?"
Sirius huffs a laugh and rubs the sleep away from his eyes. "Very pleasurable."
They look at each other, grinning like idiots.
"Good morning, husband," James says softly, reaching down to kiss Sirius on the lips.
"Mm, morning."
It still sounds incredible. Less than 24 hours ago, they said "I do" in a beautiful ceremony in the Scottish Highlands and celebrated well into the night with their loved ones before taking a portkey to a small village by Lake Garda, Italy to start their honeymoon.
Sirius bites his lower lip as he reaches to stroke James's hair. "I can't believe I got to marry my best friend."
It's all a bit ridiculous how giddy he can be. They've both just entered their 40s. Who knew you could begin a whole new chapter at this stage of life?
A few years ago, they found themselves single at the same time. They brushed shoulders more often, their gazes lingering and mouths curling into secret smiles. They did have some hurdles to work out, but Sirius finally stopped fearing and expecting the worst when James made a shaky and heartfelt confession that he couldn’t imagine life without Sirius, and they found the happiness they always had the potential for.
"What would you like to do today?"
"It's Saturday. I want to spend the day in bed with my husband."
"You just love saying 'husband'." Sirius grins as he runs his hand across James's back. Truth be told, he loves that word, too. "But we're in Italy. We should have breakfast and go see some sights."
"Mm. Later." James nuzzles his face in the crook of Sirius's neck, lying on top of him like a heated blanket. "I preordered breakfast from room service last night. It should be here at 9am."
A quick glance at the clock on the wall says it's only 8:30.
"You thought of everything, hm?" Sirius feels James's hard-on pressing against his hips. "Well, in that case…" He rolls them over quickly, eliciting a surprised laugh from James when his head hits the mattress.
"I think I know how to pass the time in the meanwhile." Sirius stares down at James, his elbows on either side of his head.
James smirks as he curls his hands around Sirius's hips, drawing tiny circles with his thumbs on his skin.
"Would you care to show me?"
"With pleasure." Sirius nips James's neck before smoothing the skin with a lick. "Husband."
It's James's turn to pant and moan, when Sirius kisses his way downwards along his body, leaving no sensitive spot unexplored.
It isn’t until late afternoon when they make it out of their room, ready to start the day as a newly married couple.
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echo-goes-mmm · 11 months
Text
Ambrose and Elliot #18
Masterpost
Previous
Next
Warnings: sickness
Elliot had an itch in his throat. At first he thought it was leftover from screaming during James’s visit, but that was a while ago and it hadn’t gone away. 
He kept on with his chores regardless. It was his place to serve, and a little cold shouldn’t stop him. Master had been rewarding him at the end of every day with a shiny gold coin and Elliot didn’t want to disappoint him. It would be just as bad as the beating that would follow.
He was tired now, too. It wasn’t the satisfying kind that he’d gotten used to after a day of being a good boy. Instead of sleeping pleasant and deep, he tossed and turned at night. Cold and hot all at once, and his beloved blanket wasn’t doing its job. It wasn’t fair. Elliot had been eating more than he’d ever gotten before. He slept well. He had no open wounds (the scratches had faded just like Ambrose said), so there was nothing to infect. It wasn’t fair!
And it wouldn’t be fair to Master Ambrose to stop working. So he didn’t.
___________________
He couldn’t get out of bed. Oh gods, he couldn’t get out of bed.
The fire had gone out during the night, and the fall air chilled him. He shivered, burrowing into the quilt, blanket, and pillows. His jaw barely creaked open enough to breathe, as his nose was clogged. Why did everything hurt? His limbs weighed him down and his muscles protested at the slightest movement.
Light began to filter through the windows. Dawn was approaching. His room faced the sunrise, and it was too bright. Just yesterday, he’d cleaned the windows and now he couldn’t get up to draw the curtains closed. How pathetic. 
He watched the beams of light grow longer on his floor. Master Ambrose would be awake soon. Please help me. 
___________________
Elliot wasn’t up and about yet. Odd. He wasn’t in the kitchen, or the dining room, or even outside watching the sunrise. 
Ambrose knocked on the bedroom door. He heard a faint whine from behind the wood.
“Ellie,” he called, turning the knob, “I’m coming in, sweetheart.”
Elliot was bundled in both his quilt and blanket. Shivering and squinting, he panted and looked absolutely awful. The fire was out, and cold. 
Ambrose crossed the room, closing the curtains. Dimming the light would help Elliot’s obvious headache. 
He arranged a few logs in the fireplace, striking a flint to light them. He would need to bring more wood from a neighboring room later.
___________________
“Oh Ellie,” said Master, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’m so sorry.” 
Master’s cool hand brushed away his sweaty hair to take his temperature. Master tutted, and guilt swirled in his gut. If Ambrose wasn’t panicked, it must not be that bad. If it wasn’t that bad, Elliot should be working. 
He tried getting up, but Master Ambrose gently pushed him back onto the bed.
“None of that, love. Just stay in bed, and I’ll take care of everything.” Elliot was relieved. Now he could rest and obey at the same time. He’d make it up to Master later.
He let Ambrose rearrange the blankets, untangling them from between his legs. The fire was already warming the room and the pleasantness made his eyelids heavy. 
___________________
Ambrose let Elliot doze as he tiptoed down the stairs. Luckily, he’d made and canned a huge batch of chicken stock for soup season. Made with roasted chicken bones and bits with peppercorns, bundles of herbs, garlic, and vegetables, the hearty stock would be perfect for Elliot. And it would provide some fluid and nutrients. 
He grabbed a pint from the storeroom and set to work. He drizzled some oil in a copper pot and set the heat. Ambrose minced some garlic and ginger and tossed it in the pot. Ginger would help reduce the croaking pain in Elliot’s throat. He diced an onion while the aromatics became fragrant. He added the onion and gave it a stir. Ambrose uncapped the pint of stock, and carefully plopped it into the pot. It was so rich, it had partially congealed. Perfect.
Ambrose held off on adding potatoes. They would be fine for Elliot if cut small enough, but Ambrose knew swallowing would be tough for him. Better to start off with a thinner soup and gradually thicken it as Elliot recovered. Instead, he added some cream for protein. A generous amount of salt, and it was nearly ready.
Soon it was the perfect temperature and the scent was delightful. He ladled a portion into a wooden bowl and carried it up to Elliot’s room.
___________________
Elliot tried to sleep, but the rumble of his stomach kept the fuzziness in his brain from working. The ache in his joints was uncomfortable, and he just wanted everything to go away. He felt so heavy.
“Love, I’m coming in,” said Master.
Elliot saw the bowl and spoon as Master entered. His stuffy nose kept him from smelling anything, but even the promise of food made his mouth water. Master Ambrose sat the bowl on his nightstand, and helped him sit up. Ambrose even propped up the pillows to keep his head from lolling, and Elliot was too tired to even feel ashamed for being useless. 
___________________
He couldn’t lift the spoon. Damn. He should have thought of that.
Elliot stared at the soup, despair on his face. Elliot was so fond of food, and for good reason. Sympathy panged in Ambrose’s heart. It must be killer for Elliot to be so close and yet unable to eat without assistance. 
Ambrose put the bowl to Elliot’s lips, tilting it ever so slightly. He’d intentionally made it just warm enough to eat right away, thank goodness. Elliot drank, his eyes fluttering. After a moment, Ambrose pulled away to let him breathe. 
The look Elliot gave him was halfway murderous and it was almost comical if it weren’t for everything else. 
“I don’t want you to choke,” explained Ambrose, and Elliot settled down. Hiccups wouldn’t help either. They were unpleasant if your throat was raw. 
Ambrose fed him until the bowl was empty. Elliot had finished it quickly, drinking it down as greedily as a bottle-fed lamb. 
“Let’s wait to see how your stomach does,” said Ambrose. “I’ll get you more if you can keep it down, okay?”
Elliot gave him a small smile; he understood. 
“Do you want to sleep?” 
“Mhm.”
Ambrose helped him lay down again. He’d have to stay by Elliot’s side today. Thankfully it was the third day of the week, so he didn’t have to put out notice that he had closed.
But as he grabbed a book from his shelves and went back to Elliot’s side, he wondered. How did he get sick so fast? He understood why Elliot was hit so hard; he was still not physically recovered from before, and the stress of the recent fight must have contributed. But these things didn’t happen overnight. 
He watched Elliot’s chest rise and fall. The soup had loosened his stuffy nose a little, but he still couldn’t breathe through it. Ambrose would have to whip up some medicine to make that easier.
If Elliot had hidden his developing sickness from him, Ambrose needed to know. He’d ask as soon as Elliot could tell him.
___________________
Elliot’s fever broke as he slept, but a cough had taken its place. Ambrose dashed downstairs and hastily made a salve for Elliot’s chest. It was a sticky thing, full of strong scented herbs that would help Elliot breathe. 
Carefully, he pulled back the bedclothes and reached under Elliot’s nightshirt. The salve was still warm as he didn’t wait for it to set. He smeared a generous amount on Elliot. 
He barely stirred at the touch. It worried Ambrose, but at least he was sleeping. 
___________________
Elliot woke up groggy. His head was stuffed with cotton but he could breathe a bit better. Ambrose sat next to him, a book in his hands. He had stayed, and that meant the world to him.
“How are you feeling?” asked Ambrose, setting aside the book. 
“Better,” he croaked. And then he coughed and Ambrose sighed a little. His shirt stuck to his chest when he coughed and it felt… sticky under there. Alarmed, he clutched at his shirt and looked down. No blood. And hey, his arm was responding now. But what was it?
“What- what’s on-” he coughed again. 
“Just some breathing cream. I’m sorry I didn’t wake you to put it on. You needed to rest.”
Oh. That was nice. It seemed to be working, at least.
“Do you want some more soup?”
“Mhm.”
___________________
The next few days were a blur of tissues and various teas and soups. Elliot’s fever had returned a couple times, and scared the hell out of Ambrose. He’d even gone delirious at one point and begged Ambrose to let him go. It broke his heart.
Elliot had nightmares, too. Eventually Ambrose started reading to him, and that seemed to help.
His cough had gone from a dry nuisance to a wet hack but a steady treatment of the cream and hearty, steaming food kept the worst of it at bay. At one point he’d hacked up something green and nasty and the cough significantly diminished. 
Elliot kept everything he ate down, and Ambrose was proud to say Elliot hadn’t lost any weight while bedridden. 
By the third day, Elliot was up and moving. His cough was gone, and the weakness subsided into a simple tiredness that could be treated with an afternoon nap. The worst of it was over, and Elliot would be fine.
Thank the gods. 
taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi
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moesasaur · 1 year
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ALL TBOM ELDERS + all canon information on them
I am making this to help out anyone who is writing fanfics or drawing fan art of The Book Of Mormon and wants to draw the elders accurately or keep them in character. I will involve all lines from each character + their fandom given first name and other small things that indicate their personality or traits. I will also state the animal they brought up in I Am Africa since I believe the animals do reflect their personalities in some way.
Elder Church
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- Elder “James” Church
- Given the name James by the fandom
- OBC actor: Brian Sears
- Comes from Cheyenne, Wyoming
- When he was young his parents were in an abusive relationship, with his alcoholic father abusing him and his mother
- “Okay, okay, HOLD ON! I mean… We COULD… SAY that we had some baptisms” Is the elder that suggests lying about how many baptisms district 9 has achieved
- “We were SO worried about you” Is the first elder that tells Kevin they were SO worried about him when he fell asleep at the bus station
- In I Am Africa he sings “(with) The Noble Lion King”
- In I Am Africa he also sings “A tribal woman who doesn’t wear a bra”
Elder Michaels
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- Elder “Michael” Michaels
- Given the name Mike by the fandom
- OBC actor: Clark Johnsen
- Comes from Provo
Elder Thomas
(I could not find a photo of him, please accept this photo of the actor as an offering)
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- Elder “Chris” Thomas
- Also goes by Elder Poptarts
- Given the name Chris by the fandom
- OBC actor: Scott Barnhardt
- His sister died from cancer and he was unable to say goodbye since he was at the apple store in line for a new iphone. Her last words were “Where is my brother”
- “You, too?! I had the hell dream after I accidentally read a Playboy!” Had his first hell dream after accidentally reading a playboy
- “Well, somebody needs to tell that General Butt-F-ing Named that people should be free to do what they want!” Is the elder that gives Kevin the idea of speaking to the general.
- In I Am Africa he sings “(with) The meerkat”. A lot of the fandom compares him to being like a meerkat
Elder Davis
Same thing, take this photo of him (right) standing next to Andrew Rannells (left)
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- Elder “Robert” David
- Given the name Robert by the fandom
- OBC actor: Jason Michael Snow
- Is the first elder to ask if Elder McKinley is okay when he is panicking about the mission president
- “Elder Cunningham we must always work in PAIRS. Remember?” Is the first elder to complain about Arnold and Kevin arguing before being shut down by Elder McKinley
- “Looks like you fell asleep at the bus station!” (to Kevin after SMHD)
Elder Schrader
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- Elder “Brian” Schrader
- Given the name Brian by the fandom
- OBC actor: Benjamin Schrader
- Please note that he isn’t called Elder Schrader in every performance, he sometimes takes the last name of the actor that plays him since he is named after Benjamin Schrader, his OBC actor
- “Are you an IDIOT?! MORMONS don’t LIE!” could come across as him being outspoken + rude personality wise
- In I Am Africa he sings “With the rhino”
Elder Neeley
Same thing AGAIN. Have a photo him (left) standing next to Jason Michael Snow (right)
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- Elder “Ted” Neeley
- Given the name Ted by the fandom
- OBC actor: Kevin Duda
- “I told a lie once when I was twelve, and I had a dream that I went to hell! It was REALLY SPOOKY.” Had his first hell dream after telling a lie when he was 12
- “Yeah, we have to go home!” “But the mission president said we’re all as far from the Latter-Day Saints as it gets!” Seems to be the elder that wants to go home most after being shunned by the mission president
Elder Zelder
I scoured the internet and found no photos of him at all this is all I got sorry guys
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- Elder “Elder” Zelder
- Given this name by the fandom, frequently referred to as an alien. I assume this is due to him having fewer lines compared to the other elders. People joke that Elder Zelder is his full name
- OBC actor: Justin Botton
- In I Am Africa he sings ���(we are) A monkey with a banana”
PAIRINGS
Here is a photo of the chalk board that lists the pairings of all the elders:
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If you can’t read it,
Elder McKinley + Elder Thomas
Elder Zelder + Elder Michaels
Elder Neeley + Elder Schrader
Elder Church + Elder Davis
also it’s a good example of Elder Schrader’s name changing based on the actor portraying him!!
Thank you for reading my little infodump, I did this mostly for myself but I would be happy to know that other people found this helpful!!
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pomegranateshrimp · 1 year
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⚕️Always (James Wilson x Reader)
Fluff Oneshot
No NSFW
Decently short read
—————————————————
You had a rough day yesterday. You work as a psychologist at the Princeton–Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, and no matter how much you tried it seemed like everything was going wrong with your work, and you had developed a sore throat of your own. When you finally came home you took a melatonin. You usually don’t take any because it messes with your sleep schedule, but tonight was going to be one of those sleepless nights; you could feel it. You finally went to bed at around 9 or 10pm. Somehow you knew it wouldn’t help.
You had just woken up from a nightmare, one where you lost James. It was terrible. You looked around to see he had his arms wrapped around you. It was still nighttime it seemed. You felt terrible. You had a headache and a sore throat, you were congested and nauseous as well. You went out into the kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge to somewhat soothe your throat and you noticed the time on the microwave. “2:18am?!?” You think to yourself. It was obviously early but you didn’t think it’d be that early. You thought about going to bed but quickly realized you wouldn’t be able to, you had already woken up, and if you took a melatonin you were worried you would be asleep for the next 8 hours, and you had to be in at work by seven. But at this point you weren’t sure if you were even gonna go. You groan and stumble across the kitchen to grab tissues, having ran out of the ones in the bedroom and needing to unclog your nose. You stand there staring at nothing in particular, in a sort of sick half awake haze. Suddenly you feel a familiar hand wrapping around your waist from behind you, with his head resting on your shoulders.
“Mm.. What are you doing up?” He mumbled with his face still leaning on your body, he was obviously much more tired than you. It was no surprise you woke him up though, he holds on to you almost for dear life when you guys are in bed
“I’m sorry did I wake you?”
“That doesn’t matter, what’s wrong?” He turns you around to look at him despite the dark atmosphere
“Nothing I just don’t feel the best… my throat is sore and I didn’t have the greatest day at work yesterday I guess”
“Are you sure that’s it? I may be half asleep but something doesn’t feel right”
“I… I don’t know, it’s really childish and.. weird” You struggled to get the words out. Although it was just a dream, it was bothering you a lot, but you weren’t sure whether to tell him. Tears pricked your eyes.
“You can tell me anything, I won’t think it’s ‘weird’, trust me”
Tears start threatening to roll down your cheeks, and you let some of them go.
“I- I had a dream where.. where I lost you”
He pulls you into a tight embrace.
“It’s not childish, or weird. I’m scared of losing you too. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”
You both stay there like that for some time, just holding each other and crying on the other persons shoulders as James draws circles on your back with his fingers.
After a bit James pulls away and plants a kiss on your forehead.
“As much as I would love to continue doing this, we should probably go check your temperature.” He says with a soft giggle and wipes away the tears from your cheeks with his thumb “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” He pulls you into the bathroom and sits you up on the sink counter and takes your temperature.
“No fever.” A slight beep comes from the machine. “But you’re still hot to me.” He smirks and leans in closer to you
“Oh shut up!” You blush and lean in a bit closer as well. He closes the gap of space between you two and kisses you. You pull away after a few long seconds.
“I don’t want you getting sick..”
“I’d be honored to get sick by you but.. you’re probably right especially with work tomorrow.”
“Yea”
“Hey uhm, speaking of work tomorrow, what did you wanna do? Because it’s really early and I know you can’t go back to sleep because you’re ‘already up’. I mean if you’re going to stay home I’d be willing to cancel tomorrow to take care of you if you’d like.”
“That actually sounds really nice, especially with some of the cases I’m working on at work right now.” You smile at him. “Thank you, for everything this morning.”
“I’ll choose you always.”
He picks you up from the counter and takes you to the bedroom where he cuddled and took care of you as you rambled on about your work troubles, giving you water, tissues, a hot towel for your headache, and even a lot of kisses despite your protesting and concern for his well-being.
-Blooper thingy!!!
Cuddy: *Enters Houses office* “Hey have you seen Wilson or L/n?”
House: “Oh please they’re probably staying home cause Wilson fucked them too hard or something.”
Cuddy: *Rolls eyes at him* “Thanks for the helpful very needed input.”
House: “Anytime!” *The door slams*
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james lives AU prongsfoot bingo pls? 🥺❤
Thank you for asking! This is one I've been working on recently and hope to finish at some point🤞
It's about what might happen if, instead of dying, when Voldemort came that Halloween, James was temporarily separated from his body and just had to watch what happened without being able to interact or do anything. (Which is probably not good, I think it was supposed to be a fluffy prompt and I made it super-angsty)
November 7th 1982 The Janus Thickey Ward is always quieter than James feels it should be. They moved him here after two months on Spell Damage, and he’s still not used to it after almost a year. He sits on the bed where his body rests and tries to figure out how long he’s been gone this time. It’s happening more often now – and for longer each time. He blacks out, loses time, and wakes up beside his body. It's the only time he comes back to the hospital. The rest of the time he spends with Harry or Sirius, though every moment breaks his heart a little more. When he manages to get back in his body, he’s going to murder everyone responsible for him having to know how long it took Harry to realise no-one was going to come when he cried, to curse them with the pain he felt when he watched his son quiet his own sobs and curl up on himself. James hasn’t heard him cry since, and it breaks his heart with every passing day. He’s going to make them scream for the way he felt watching Sirius turn into Padfoot to howl with grief, because his human voice was too ruined by screaming. He’s going to make them scream for how James sobbed when he realised Sirius wasn’t coming back. He’d been the dog for six months now, and James desperately misses the sound of his voice. Misses how he used to talk to James and Harry to keep sane in his cell. Because James did hear, even though Sirius thought he didn't. James goes to stand from the bed, and for the first time in a year he feels resistance as he does. He looks down at his own face and has to let himself hope. Because that’s the way his existence goes. He watches the people he loves suffer, he mourns Lily, and he forces himself to hope. Forces himself to keep trying, because if he gives up – he can’t give up. So, he has to bear the disappointment when it doesn’t work. He lies down in bed, letting his form line up perfectly with his body. He makes himself focus, matches his breathing with that of his body’s. Tries to feel the sheets under his body, or imagine an itch on his nose. A tiredness beyond words washes over him and he lets it, lets it pull him down until he knows he’ll pass out again if he lets it pull him deeper. And then he strains. He forces his eyes open, forces his chest to draw breath. The tiredness doesn’t abate, and he sighs. He wills himself to Harry’s side, but he stays put. Confused, he sit’s up, fighting the exhaustion. But something is different. He can feel the bed as he braces against it to sit. He hurts. Because his body hurts. And when he looks down at the bed, nothing’s there. An alarm goes off, and in seconds the Healer that checks in on him most days comes rushing through the doors. “Mr. Potter,” he says, eyes wide. “You’re awake.”
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siriuslystarbucks · 3 months
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Lovesick
Written for @prongsfoot-microfic prompt April 20, 2023: Lovesick
((A/N: Warning for illness/vomiting)
James grimaces sympathetically and dabs the cloth over Sirius's forehead. "I'm sorry."
Sirius spits in the toilet and flushes it. "Can you get me some water?" he croaks.
"Yeah, of course."
Sirius takes the cloth and puts it against his cheek while James goes to the sink.
James sits back down and they exchange the glass and washcloth. "Do you feel any better?"
"A little, but I'm sure it'll pass." He sips at the water carefully even though he wants to chug it. If he wasn't throwing up, he'd ask James to draw a bath for him. Sat in water, drinking water. That's his biggest dream right now. "I can't believe lovesickness is real."
"Me neither. It feels like more people than just you should have it, right? And if plenty of people have it, don't you think we would've heard about it?"
Sirius has to take longer to answer that than he normally would. It didn't feel like his mind was working slowly until now. "Doctor said this is the first case in Britain in a hundred years."
"I always knew you were special, but I think I could've done without this bit."
"Ha, me too."
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there to take you to the hospital."
Sirius shakes his head. James had been at work and unreachable-- Sirius calling for him had priority, but that was a rare time where no one could reach him.
"I know, I just feel like I missed out hearing all the details and now I'm interrogating you while you're sick."
He snorts at 'interrogating', but he knows how much James hates not knowing what's happening to him. He extends a shaky hand and rests it on James's knee. "It'll be gone in a week. They gave me potions to take every night and morning, seven day guarantee. I just have to stick this out, and then I'll be fine."
James gnaws on his lip for a moment. If he was face to face with a hospital worker, he'd be asking them a million questions. He tamps down on that desire and squeezes Sirius hand as gently as he can. "One week, and you're all better?" he checks.
Sirius nods.
"Okay. I guess I can allow that."
He laughs-- which unfortunately triggers more retching into the toilet-- but he's in better spirits than before. And to be honest, so is James now that he knows the time limit on this illness.
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fancyfeathers · 2 months
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@zainiscompletelydone333 asked a question
Personally, I think Andrei grows up and becomes a lover of arts and psychology. Eloise, while being smarter, has less than ideal experience in emotions , at least her own. Plus the trauma from her father forcefully taking her and Madeleine back, plus the way her bunny was stained by the blood of a dead noble was very traumatic for her. Leading to her seldom desiring to talk to People. She is still a brilliant strategist and can convince people, but socialising takes a mental toll on her. Especially when her father's face crosses her mind whenever she tries to interact with someone, as if her brain is alarmed if her father will kill them too, depsite knowing he won't do such a thing. That's where Andrei comes in. Since he is adept in Psychology, he can help her with her issues at times. As the eldest, he acts as a supportive wall for her. He handles most social works for her and if she were to suffer from panic attacks and such, he would help her get over them. It's sad, Andrei always wanted to be good in something so Eloise would also see him as just as capable, but not like this.. i also think eloise feels the elder daughter guilt : you can relate to your fathers horrible decisions and thinking at times, asking yourself if you would have doe the same, all becuae your natures match so much that you can understand why he did some things
Father Like Daughter (Yandere William James Moriarty and his darling having a genius daughter)
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I imagine that the two of them attend college classes at a university in London during their early teenage and teenage years since they are both very intelligent in their own right, Andrei in psychology and philosophy, the intangible, while Eloise’s knowledge in those area were stunted in their growth and she focused more on the sciences and mathematics. Since what had happened she had been silent most of the time, using her books to escape from reality and her own mind as well and of course little Andrei noticed this more than anyone else because the two cousins were friendly rivals before their falling out which drawing out the young man’s bleeding heart who just wants to help and make people happy. So he would always do small things for her, cleaning up her books that she left unorganized in her room because she just cannot find the motivation to do so, making tea for her in the morning when she struggles to get out of bed and leaving it on her bedside table for her, grabbing her coat, hat, and gloves and asking his father and Uncle William before hand when he asks her if she wants to go out somewhere with him so she doesn’t have to push herself too far.
The two of them get dropped off by either or their fathers and luckily enough the two of them have all of their classes together so Andrei always lets her sit at the end of the row in a lecture hall and he will sit on the inside so she does not have to sit next to anyone she does not feel comfortable with. I think Andrei would be involved with theater and perhaps be involved with some groups or something so he will go off to that after making sure she is okay waiting somewhere, normally the library, but sometimes he misses to sit with her.
Then one day when they are sitting in the library after their classes, waiting to be picked up…
“Eloise, do you want to want to play chess with me? I think I saw a set somewhere around here.”
“I… I mean I would like to but we should be working on our assig-“
“I believe I asked you what you wanted, wait here, I will be right back.”
“Andrei-“
He’ll come back with an old chess board that was tucked away in some corner of the library and set it up on the table they were just working on, pushing aside their textbooks and papers. He will let her play white and he will play black, so she goes first. The game goes on and Andrei watches her closely as she plays, focused on one goal, protecting the king on the board. This is her downfall though as that was not his goal, he made her loose her queen. Then as she is about to say she resigns-
“Let’s keep playing, after all you still have you king after all.”
“But I was taught to resign after you lost your queen, it’s good sportsmanship, it’s what you are supposed to do-“
“And that’s your problem.”
“What is that supposed to mean.”
“Well you can still play, you have the majority of your pieces on the board and your mind and isn’t chess all about strategy?”
“Something tells me this isn’t about chess.”
“Of course it’s not… but let’s just keep playing.”
So they do and of course she wins, he smiles at her while he cleans up and she watches, wondering what the point of all of this was.
“You still won when you lost one of the key pieces of the game.”
“That is correct.”
“So what’s to say you cannot do the same in reality.”
“Andrei, no-“
“You were the one who first warned me about are family and now you are just giving up, you rode on a bike for four days to get from Durham to London just to work with that detective. You helped solve murders when you were seven years old, you are a mastermind, and why? Why did you do all that?”
“I really don’t want to talk about this-“
“Because death is wrong, you knew there’s were other ways to change things. You wanted to help everyone, including your mother-“
“Andrei, stop now-“
“I was a fool to ignore what you were saying then and you would be a fool to not listen to me now, and I know that it is one thing you are not. I will help you-“
“Ah, there the two of you are.”
The two hear the all too familiar voice of Eloise’s father. Looking up they see William and Albert in the open doorway of the library. Eloise is terrified and she just looks back at her cousin and he just smiles at his uncle and father.
“Yes, I was just helping Eloise with her chemistry assignment, we took a break to play chess and she was just taking to me about things she needs for class tomorrow in case I can lend a hand.”
“Well isn’t that kind of you, Andrei. Now come along you two, your Uncle William and I have meetings later this afternoon and we need to get you two home before we leave.”
“Yes, right away!”
The two cousins pack up their books, papers, and pens and as they are walking down the hallway behind their fathers, Eloise slips Andrei a piece of paper which he unfolds only in the palm of his hand…
There is a key to the basement in the cabinet in the kitchen where Uncle Louis keeps the tea sets. Get out the key and how to the basement only when you know everyone is asleep, get the boxes in the third room to the left on the two bottom shelves and hide them under my bed. I will handle getting my sister and your sister out and ready to get out.
Andrei holds back his smile as he shoves the note in his pocket…
He finally got his cousin back.
When the two get home and they see their mothers and William’s darling looks down at her daughter as she hugs her, Eloise smiled at her. Her mother almost starts crying at that sight of that, her little Eloise smiled.
She does not know what is about to happen later that night but she knows that her little girl is back again and has a plan to try again.
Eloise’s plan is to blow up the window lock with gunpowder and the matches that she normally use to hight the candle in her room. While Andrei is getting the things she needs, she is waking up her younger sister, Madeline, who had run away before, and Andrei’s sisters, the little twins, Hyacinth and Marguerite. I imagine while William and Albert were away earlier that day she asked her mother, William’s darling, and her aunt, Albert’s darling to help her pack a few of their clothing so it does not look suspicious since if she does it someone like Uncle Louis will notice and tell William. Then by the time Andrei is done, Eloise has gotten everyone ready to go and it’s time to leave.
(I am not sure if this is what would end up happening but I had the really funny thought of Miss Hudson or someone at Baker Street waking up in the middle of the night to a knocking on the door and they just open it up to see Eloise and Madeline who have grown quite a bit since they saw them last with three other children. Also just poor Hyacinth, she is a sickly child but they couldn’t just leave her there and if they do end up at Baker Street I am just imagining Watson scolding them for bringing her along because of her health.)
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Spoilers 477
It took long because I was trying to work with my very uncooperative group members who suck ass at communicating.🙄 I literally had a dream about it because I was so stressed.
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I like how different Jinyoung's personality is when he can't remember, you know like bashing Allied while in pain, but that also means he's getting better at sorting out his thoughts despite the pain and panic attacks. And is it just me or what Jinyoung's experiencing, not panic attacks at all. Like, I'm not a professional psychiatrist or anything, but those do not look like panic attacks.
Also, isn't anyone going to help him like his ass is just there bleeding out.
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Lmao, we all know what happens when Yujin gets cocky about his fighters.
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🥺he wants to stay by samuel,even though samuel doesn't give him the time of day.
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On god, this bitch is pissing me off, chasing after this lifestyle is literally what ruined him and big deal. He has people that care about him even though he doesn't deserve it and still chooses to act like a douche. Honestly, Jake's is pissing me off too. He's too nice for giving chances to people who don't deserve and clearly should be in jail (jihoe, xiaolong, vivi and samuel).
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Warren bought them chicken like he always does 🥺. I honestly like how Amy and Natalie are so much smaller here, I feel like it shows us that these girls are younger than Sally and the others. Like they actually look like children, unlike the other girls. Also, yenna looks so cute and pudgy, but jokes aside, someone tell ptj that 3 years old don't look that small.
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Bros about to get manhandled by a kid too. Do the men working for yujin forget their boss is also a child.
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It's so funny whem when he tries to act intimidating when he's so tiny. I will stomp on him (I am also under the average height).
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Thr audacity of this Lil bitch. He literally had his friends tortured, especially Daniel, and Sally almost got r*ped; and now he has the nerve to ask Daniel that! Bitch should be glad he's getting an option instead of his ass handed back to him.
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Pretty sure ptj forgot to draw his tattoos just like he forgot Goo's wound on his neck.
It makes sense that Yujin would go after Gun. However, I'm going to be honest, I don't think it'll be easy or even possible. Honestly, lung cancer has a higher chance of killing Gun than these guys. I feel like James Lee and Tom Lee are probably some of the few people capable. Yujin probably knows that Gun is an heir to a powerful mafia group in Japan or that he at least has ties to the Yakuza. So he's either really overconfident or actually has more tricks up his sleeve. Although I'm sure Yujin knows of Gun's reputation as the white demon why else would we see him in all white.
I also feel like we'll finally get a backstory on Gun, I know his ass is downright evil. Like come on, the Yamazaki clan is currently the most powerful in Japan. They didn't become the number 1 by being decent human beings, that's for sure. He's probably worse than Charles, Goo, Tim Lee, Minsik, James Lee, and Jake's older brother combined✋🏼.
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quandaryqueen · 2 years
Note
i am once again asking for more pre-riddler gotham edward shbdkadjbyw
mayhaps (pre-riddler) gotham edward with a future s/o who's an excellent sketch artist for the gcpd? like even with the vaguest of details they can get, they can draw an accurate likeness of a suspect most of the time? they would totally have a bunch of sketches of other people, of officers and ed too-
Pencil work
Gotham Edward Nygma X Reader
Pre-Riddler Edward is always a treat uwu I actually prefer him than the Riddler!
"This is Y/N L/N, they're gonna need some details about the man who assaulted you."
Edward watches as Detective Gordon gestures at you by his side in front of a poor woman— who had been minding her business in a typical day walking on her way to work, when she was pushed by a passerby at the side of the road, almost getting herself ran over. Just an average day in Gotham, something someone should shrug off after spewing a few profanities before resuming, but James Gordon happened to stumble upon the scene and brought the woman back to the precinct.
You stood ready with a sketch pad and pencil in your hands, nodding attentively as the woman began to detail the appearance of her assailant. The way your face tense from the concentration, softening when you turn back to ask for clarifications, before returning to a concentrated gaze. Edward wasn't aware he was blocking the path as he stood at awe at the sight of you at work.
You weren't called in all that much, at least, not at the rate he was also called in but it was always a sight to behold. That, or he is kept occupied with forensics. Mostly cooped up in your little space, sketching away. He only knew that because he always had the excuse to walk behind you, look over your shoulder, before pretending he wanted to tell a riddle to the nearest officer who happen to be beside you.
"Is this your man?" Detective Gordon shows the woman your sketchbook. It wasn't as detailed as your typical works, but it is just a quick sketch.
The woman nodded and was excused, leaving Gordon to work with the analysis to run the assailant's face through police database. And just like that, you were retreating back to your desk.
"A-ah, Mx. L/N!" Edward did not have the train of thought which consists of him going back and fourth between approaching you or not, as your name rolls from his tongue without much of a thought process.
He didn't expect you to glance back. Shit. You have never talked before and this is the first time you're interacting. He doesn't even know why he called you... Now what?
"G-great work! By the way! Hah... Um..." He scratches the back of his neck.
"Thank you! I try my best!" You smiled.
He returns your smile with his signature Muppet smile, before he retreats to his usual stomping grounds in a hurry, his face set ablaze... Somehow, he has the feeling of wanting to do that again.
~•~
Nothing could go wrong with an idle sketch while you wait for someone to call you on the scene for your expertise and it was the perfect way to pass time, other than being trapped in an endless scroll. The carbon tip hovering atop the paper, you lazily scan your surroundings for an inspiration. There was the beloved coffee machine, next to an office plant, near the forensics lab, where Edward Nygma exitted—
Edward Nygma... The funny fella from yesterday, ye? Definitely a cute guy... Black hair, always neatly combed to the sides, not a strand sticking out, brown eyes behind black framed square glasses, lips always stretched to a Muppet smile. You regret letting him go yesterday, internally punching yourself for not being that much of a conversationalist.
You never really talked to the guy all that much, only exchanging small talk, greeting when you bumped to each other before resuming to your day. When you do get to work with him, it would be brief that you don't really get to interact with him at all. There was a time Detective Bullock was bad mouthing Edward when you were on the scene, turning to you to nonchalantly express his annoyance for the bespectacled man when he made his way to the scene. You kept quiet, not wanting to cause a rift with your co-workers, but you had a way of letting the detective know you don't like the way he talks about Edward... So much for not wanting to cause a rift...
He looked particularly eager making his way forward, his eyes lit up and pace quickening. You watch him pass by your table and pretended as though you weren't just staring at him. By doing this, your eyes landed at the end of your pencil, the carbon tip filling out spaces to Edward's coat and—
How the fuck—
You were shocked at yourself as well, eyes wide at the sight of the absentminded sketch before you— a figure of Edward Nygma, though rough in terms of shape, you were a little concerns about how mu h details you were able to jot down from such a distance. Closing your sketchbook, you take your palms and press it against your heated face, fingers pulling down your cheeks before you slammed your head against your table. Stupid brain chemicals.
You just hoped Edward didn't see it... But on the contrary—
Edward was shocked when he spotted an unmistakable figure of himself on your paper, getting a good sight of it all when you closed your sketchbook and slam your head against your desk, all the while, repeatedly banging your head on the surface lightly. Well, that couldn't be good for the noggin and before you can cause great damage on your cortex, he taps your shoulder.
"That was a marvelous drawing!"
Your stomach dropped and eyes widened, a reaction Edward caused with his thoughtless statement that he had yet again, had zero thought process behind it. Oh no, you don't think of him as a creep now do you? Justified and understandable...
"I'm so sorry." You blurted out in the midst of the mess in your mind. Oh my fucking god this is so embarrassing, I wish I can crawl under a rock and die.
Edward blinks owlishly. "Uh... Why?"
"Um... For sketching you?" For being an absolute leering creep???
"Nonsense! I'm quite flattered!" And besides if anyone should be sorry, it's him, he's the leering creep. "All those details in such a short time! I don't know about you, but most of the time, you're the one who makes the process of capturing the baddies faster. Putting a face to the assailant! Then it would be more easier to get more information like the name, age, where, when, why, how— how long have you been sketching?"
Be still my beating heart... You held a hand to your chest, maintaining a tense smile as the feeling of wanting to be swallowed by the ground subsides as it was beginning to be replaced by flattery.
"Um... Thank you... I mean... Since I was young? It was a hobby at first, then I got into this... Um... Job and I guess I'm a professional now."
"May I see?" Edward could barely contain his excitement as he gestured at the sketch book on your desk.
For a moment, hesitance took over, but you eventually got over it and flipped through the pages, landing on the recent page, before handing it to Edward. His eyes were wide with wonder as he admired the pencil work, his eyes softening at how much details you incorporated in your drawing, a smile gracing his features.
"Wonderful..." It slips pass his lips, his finger softly stroking the material of the pad.
"You can look over the previous pages if you want."
"Really?" He glanced at you, eyes glimmering with excitement.
"Go ahead." Although you were a little shy, you allowed him to close your sketchbook and go to the very first page.
You saw the advantage of prolonging the conversation further and took the chance. For so long you've wanted to approach him, as he seemed fun, but you never really had the courage to speak with him in a casual manner. Who knows? Maybe a foundation of a bond can be forged through this.
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fanficrocks · 4 months
Text
Touch my heart
For @chrumblr-whumblr: May whump challenge #17 - Touch starved
Fandom: Lewis (ITV)
Length: ~3k words
Also posted to AO3
DI Robbie Lewis was clearing his desk on the evening of Good Friday in no great mood and with few plans for the weekend. Part of him was happy for his sergeant DS James Hathaway, a practising Catholic who would hopefully appreciate being able to attend the Easter service at church without worrying about a callout. For himself, Easter meant very little since his kids had grown too old for the egg hunt; and religion in general meant nothing at all since his wife’s tragic death some seven years ago. Indeed, the prospect of a full weekend off-rota held little appeal.
Just then, James returned to the office with the ballistics report they had been waiting for, the final nail in the coffin for the case they had cleared two days ago. As he added it to the file for CPS and brought the whole across to his boss, Robbie gave in to impulse.
“So, what are your plans for the weekend? Aside from church on Easter morning?”
“The band I play in - we have a gig in Reading tomorrow night for the local diocese. A bit different from what we normally play, so we are meeting for lunch and spending the afternoon rehearsing.”
“And Sunday, after church?”
“Nothing definite. Why?”
“Do you fancy takeaway at mine? There is a fine single malt calling our names, and you can break in the new sofa bed. Come a bit early if you like and we can watch more than one DVD from that boxset you brought last time.”
Despite the seemingly casual invitation, Robbie found himself holding his breath. It had been well over a month since James had joined him for a meal at his, and even their after-work pints had taken on a different flavour… almost as though he was showing up out of habit or duty, and not because he wanted to. Which was a puzzle, because they had settled into a nice pattern over the past couple of years - ever since the Phoenix case had rattled their equilibrium so badly. 
Even worse in Robbie’s opinion, James seemed to have been distancing himself at work too. Not in a way that would be obvious to anyone else - their usual repartee in quip and counterquip continued unabated, and not even such sharp observers as Dr. Laura Hobson or DCS Innocent had noticed anything. But he had - the difference was subtle but definite, and he found himself missing all the causal touches that punctuated their days… a hand on the back to indicate who should go through a doorway first, a friendly bump of the shoulder when walking down a narrow pavement, or a touch on the forearm to quietly draw attention to a clue. James and he had never had much sense of personal space around each other except when seriously at odds; and despite the tensions during the Crevecoeur case during the winter, he thought they had hit their stride once again. If anything, James had grown closer and more trusting since then - particularly once Robbie had made it clear that he was not going to push for any explanations regarding James’ childhood when his father was employed on that estate. Or so it had seemed, until the changes of the last weeks. 
To his surprise and relief, James looked happy - nay, delighted - at the invitation. His face broke into an all-too-rare sincere smile which seemed blinding in its intensity as he rushed to accept, with the stipulation that he would bring dessert. As they turned to walk in step down to the car park, Robbie felt something right itself despite the couple of feet of distance James continued to maintain between them. And found himself looking forward to the weekend after all.
~~~~~~~~~~
By Sunday afternoon, Robbie was basking in a pleasant sense of achievement - all the chores he had postponed for weeks as they had hit a string of complex cases were finally done, and he had taken advantage of the good weather to get a start on the little back garden that came with his flat. And he now had a pleasant evening to look forward to with his best mate. On the thought, he decided to text James to check what time he would be coming over, since they had not really decided what “early” meant. Text sent and cuppa in hand, he went back into the garden to continue planning what he would get to the next time he had a free day or two, and to wonder whether James might be game to join him.
Almost an hour later, there was no answer to his text, nor when he tried calling James. Robbie left messages on both his mobile and his home phone, and willed himself to wait a further half hour - maybe the lad was showering. But once his self-imposed interval had elapsed with no response from James, he could not wait any longer. Grabbing his car keys, he drove over to James’ flat, barely keeping within the posted speed limit on the thankfully empty roads. Once there, it was the work of a moment to check that James’ car was in its accustomed spot before letting himself in using the spare key he had been given a couple of years ago now. 
Stepping into James’ apartment, Robbie was brought up short by the unaccustomed clutter visible from the hall. Not that he had been here all that often, but after four years of sharing an office with James, he knew that the other man was always neat and systematic in everything he did. And he would never have left his beloved Gibson lying on the floor in the hallway! 
Increasingly worried about what he would find, Robbie walked further into the flat, calling out to James as he went. The silence that met him was distinctly unnerving, particularly as he knew that James should be at home. Until he entered the bedroom to find a fully clothed lanky frame collapsed on the bed, sweating and shivering simultaneously, while evidently too exhausted to have removed even his belt and shoes.
With a startled exclamation, Robbie made his way to the bedside. It did not take long to realise what was wrong - James had obviously come down with the flu that had been making the rounds of the nick for the past couple of weeks, and between fever and incipient dehydration, was in no shape to respond to the phone or indeed even to Robbie’s voice. And knowing him as Robbie did, it was likely the daft sod had been feeling poorly for a few days and ignoring it. Deciding that the recriminations could wait until James was better, he set to work getting the younger man comfortably into bed before attempting to get some fluids and paracetamol into him.
As he struggled with an utterly uncoordinated and floppy six-foot-three-inch sergeant, Robbie remembered just why nurses have to be so strong. By the time he got James changed into his pyjamas (old track bottoms and a threadbare T-shirt that surely could not have survived from his Cambridge days?) and manoeuvred him properly into bed, it was evident that this was just the start of a long evening and night. The lad’s temperature seemed to be steadily climbing, and while not yet obviously uncooperative, he was not exactly easy to coax into doing the needful - not making any sense when he talked, but nonetheless managing to convey his displeasure in increasingly inventive mumbles. Fortunately, James still seemed to recognise his touch and responded well enough to that, even if he seemed to be trying to burrow into Robbie for comfort. 
~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later, Robbie realised he would have to call Innocent and request a sick day (or several) for James. While in no immediate danger or need of further medical attention, the lad was obviously unwell and would need time to recover. But the trickier thing would be to convince Innocent to give Robbie the next day off too… given how James was just now, there seemed to be no other option. He could barely go to the kitchen to fetch him something to drink, or to the bathroom to refresh the wet flannel to cool his brow, without triggering intense anxiety on James’ part. Indeed, he only seemed to calm down and rest if Robbie was holding his hand or stroking his hair… as though that touch was the only thing anchoring him. 
Not wanting to disturb James, who seemed to have finally dropped off into a doze, Robbie decided to text Innocent and hope for the best. His guardian angels must have been working overtime, for she responded almost immediately and, albeit grudgingly, granted him a day off with the proviso that he be available should an emergency arise. With a sigh of relief, Robbie put away his phone and turned back to his awkward sod, gently freeing his left hand from the deathgrip James had on it in favour of replacing the wet flannel with his right. To his surprise, James brought his own hand up in a more coordinated movement than any he had essayed so far and pressed it over Robbie’s, as if to tighten the contact before relaxing back into sleep. 
It was an hour before James woke up, seemingly more compos mentis this time, and uncomplainingly cooperative when Robbie encouraged him to drink some orange juice. After helping him to the bathroom and changing the damp sheets in the interim, Robbie got him resettled in bed with a fresh cold flannel and water within easy reach.
“Lad, will you be alright on your own for a little while? You don’t have much in the fridge by way of fluids, so I will make a quick visit to the shops.” 
“Of course, Sir. And thank you! I don’t know how… you really didn’t need to… ”
“Give over, man! You are not just my sergeant, you are my mate. Now, seeing it is Easter Sunday, your local shop might be closed, so don’t get worried if I have to drive to the nearest supermarket and it takes a bit longer.”
Prophetic words, as it turned out. Not only were the small local shops closed, so was the nearest supermarket. By the time Robbie located one that was open and stocked up on the items he thought they would need, it was well over an hour since he had left James. He sent a brief text to explain, then hurried back as quickly as he could given the suddenly heavy traffic due to people returning from their Easter weekend trips.
Putting away the supplies he had bought, Robbie entered James’ bedroom carrying a tray bearing a bowl of hot chicken soup, some fresh bread, and further supplies of juice and paracetamol to see his sergeant trying to get out of bed and swaying in the process. Quickly putting the tray down on the dresser, he reached out to James, grasping his shoulders to steady him… only for James to turn into his body and cling desperately. Although wracked by fever and weakness, he was gripping Robbie as though for dear life. And no power on earth could stop him then from slipping his arms comfortingly around that shaking form.
“It’s alright, lad. I am here. What’s wrong?”
“You came back! You didn’t leave me!”
“Of course I came back, lad. I only went to get some supplies. Why did you think I wouldn’t?”
“Nobody does. All go away, never come back.”
“I am here, James. I won’t go away like that.”
“You did. When I lied to you. About Will and Feardocha and the others.”
“But I came back. I always do. As you know, lad.” 
Somehow, that seemed to get through to James, who allowed himself to be settled back against the piled pillows and accepted the soup Robbie was offering. He did not seem to know what to do with it, though, and simply sat there with a troubled stare as the soup cooled. With a sigh, Robbie sat down at the edge of the bed and lightly cuffed him on the arm.
“The soup won’t drink itself, you know. Come on now, a few spoonfuls won’t hurt you. And the bread will settle your tummy - let you alternate ibuprofen with the paracetamol to break the fever sooner.”
“What about you?”
“I will have mine after you finish.”
“You won’t go away?”
“No, daft lad. I won’t go away. I will bring my dinner here and sit in the armchair to have it if the smell of food won’t bother you.” 
Satisfied, James settled back and proceeded to eat. The soup and bread felt just right, as did Robbie’s solid presence by his side. A few minutes later, as he mopped up the last of the soup and accepted the tablets Robbie offered, he felt sufficiently restored to feel for the glasses on his bedside table and perch them on his nose before reaching for the book lying open there. A soft chuckle from Robbie made him look up then.
“What?”
“Only you would pick up a book with such small print when scarcely able to hold your head upright.”
“It’s just that I don’t want to fall asleep again right away. Not until I make sure you have eaten too.”
“That so? Why don’t we chat a bit then? So long as it won’t hurt your throat.”
“My throat is surprisingly clear, though I can’t say the same about my head. What do you want to talk about?”
“Nothing particular. You choose. Just no more flipping elves.”
That set James off laughing, though he had to stop soon enough as his exhausted body could handle only so much. Taking the laughter as a good sign, Robbie bore away the used tray and came back in with his sandwich and beer to settle down in the armchair after pulling it close enough for James to reach him if he so wanted. To his surprise, James took his hand unselfconsciously and initiated the conversation this time.
“I was really looking forward to our takeaway and DVD night, you know.”
“Glad to hear it. How about we do it once you are recovered?”
“You mean that?”
“Not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean! And I miss relaxing with you at the end of a case, or even just because. You do know that you are welcome any time, don’t you?”
James turned an interesting shade of pink at this, and nodded as a shy - almost incredulous - smile played around his lips. Robbie returned to his sandwich, wondering what new complications the daft lad’s overactive brain was cooking up now, and how he might need to handle them. 
“I just wanted to say, Sir, I really appreciate it. The acceptance and friendship you extend to me… I have never… just, thank you.”
“As I said, James, I consider you a friend. My best mate, really. So you have nothing to thank me for. You would do as much if the situation was reversed.”
“Hmmm. Still, I have never had anyone to do this for me. It… takes a bit of getting used to.”
Robbie found himself swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat at this admission. Taking a moment to compose himself, for James would shut down immediately if his reaction had even the faintest whiff of pity, he looked up and met his friend’s eyes openly, allowing his understanding to colour his gaze.
“Sometimes, we get lucky with our families. Other times, it takes longer and we have to find our clan.”
“Was that why you moved so far from home?”
“No - I was one of the lucky ones. We were almost frighteningly poor when I was growing up, but there was plenty of love to go around. It was the miners strikes in ‘84 that drove me south… wasn’t easy being a copper when many among my family and mates were working in the mines. The tensions ran too high just then, so it made sense to move here closer to Val’s folks.”
“I didn’t realise. That must have been hard.”
“Aye, especially at first. But it got easier with time, like almost everything does. Now, how about a cuppa before you get some sleep? I saw you have some non-caf herbal teas. Ginger-lemon sound OK?.”
At James’ nod, he went into the kitchen to put the kettle on and clear away the detritus of dinner, such as it was, while waiting for the tea to steep. Re-entering the bedroom a few minutes later, he found James trying valiantly to keep his eyelids open and not slide down into a fully recumbent position. Realising the younger man’s struggle, Robbie sat down beside him and slipped a supportive arm beneath his shoulders while holding his other hand ready to steady the cup in case of need. James relaxed against his side as he slowly sipped the tea as though the simple act of raising and lowering the cup required all his concentration.
Tea drunk, he sank back against his pillows, still pressed against Robbie’s side as though loath to give up the contact. Once James was deeply asleep, Robbie settled him comfortably then rose to retreat to the armchair, only for a long-fingered hand to clutch his own tightly. 
“Don’t go away.”
“I am not, lad. I will be right here - in the armchair.”
“No. Too far. Don’t go.”
“Alright. I am right here - you hold on to my hand.”
That seemed to do the trick as James drifted off again. Robbie sat there gently stroking the hand he was holding and hoping that would soothe the nervous twitches and jerks… it was as though James could not fully relax even in his sleep, and he wondered what else was in store until the fever broke properly.
Some indeterminate amount of time later, he looked up into James’ wide-open eyes. Their gaze was unfocused and for a moment, he was concerned that the lad was delirious, when he spoke in a dreamy tone.
“You are still here.”
“Course I am. Promised you, didn’t I?”
“And you always keep your promises.”
“I do. Or at least, I try my best to.”
“Something I need to learn from you. But I am doing better at it - I gave up touching you as my Lenten sacrifice, and I did not break that vow.” 
“Why lad? Does it bother you when I touch you? You should have said… I guess I have been used to having someone around, and transferred that to you as we became friends.”
“Bother me? No, it is exactly the opposite.”
As James dropped back into sleep, a number of things suddenly made sense to Robbie. Lent - and in the spirit of sacrificing something important to him, James had determined to give up the casual touches the two of them so frequently shared. So that was the reason for the distance he had sensed between them over the past weeks. While it was a relief to know that he had not done anything to precipitate the distance, Robbie knew that when the right time came, he would need to talk to James about being sensible in his sacrifices. Life had taught him that being too alone could eat into a man’s soul, that we are not made to exist without human touch. That there is no shame in needing a caring presence and a warm hand to grasp. 
But those were matters for another day when James was recovered and hopefully willing to talk to him. For now, it was enough that his presence and his touch were helping James, and that the lad trusted him enough to let him in thus far. What he truly wanted from their friendship - that was something to discuss later. But one thing Robbie was determined on… whatever it was, he would be there for James to the best of his ability and with his whole heart.
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sinsiriuslyemo · 6 months
Text
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Chapter Two: A New Dog
Much to his delight, by the time he began to open his eyes the next morning, the smell of chicken was already permeating the air. An itch behind his ear prompted him to move, scratching himself just as Penny came to set a bowl in front of him.
“Morning, Bigfoot. Sleep well?” she asked as he began to eat his breakfast. She reached for something on the blanket, her knuckles brushing over the ends of his fur. “Hm, you do have fleas,” she said, looking at something between two pinched fingers. “You up for a bath?”
He glanced up at her, his eyes shifting away as he began to growl lowly, though there was no true aggression behind it. He was a grown wizard! He could bathe himself whenever she left the flat, thank you very much!
“Oh, come on. I bet it’ll make you feel a lot better, it can’t be fun to have all these little blood suckers biting you all the time,” she said. “And after your bath, I can go into town and get you a flea collar. What do you say? Bye bye fleas?”
It would be nice to not have fleas anymore, and he couldn’t really be certain when she would leave him alone or for how long. For all he knew she worked from home and rarely left. Grumbling in reluctant acceptance, Padfoot finished off the chicken in his bowl and drank some water. Penny picked up his empty bowl and stood as she pet his head.
“Good. Do you need to go to the bathroom before we bathe you?”
Yes! he barked in response, carefully standing and following her to a back door in the kitchen. He still limped slightly, though his legs were much more cooperative after a proper night’s rest. She let him into a lovely though small yard, and he wasted no time in finding a good spot to lift his leg before he found a different spot to squat over. Penny came up behind him with a plastic bag and picked up his waste, tying the bag shut and tossing it into the metal rubbish bin by the door.
When they got back inside, she led him to the bathroom, where she began to draw a bath, adjusting the temperature of the water until it was just right.
Getting into the tub was a bit of a challenge, his muscles still sore from his long walk the day before, but with a little help from Penny, he managed and stood still while she wet him down until his fur was dripping. She then lathered dish soap in a ring around the base of his neck to keep the fleas from escaping onto his face, or so she said. The more she lathered his body with dish soap, the better he felt, her fingers inadvertently massaging his sore muscles and getting all the dirt and grime off of his fur. If Harry wasn’t an orphan, if Wormtail weren’t still alive, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, Padfoot might’ve been keen to remain in his dog form permanently.
You should consider it, Padfoot, James’ voice echoed in his mind. Personally, I think you’d be happier as a dog.
“Oh yeah, you needed that alright. That’s gotta feel better, doesn't it?” Penny said as she began to rinse him off.
As the warm water ran over his fur, the water below him became darker and darker, clouding with the twelve years worth of filth he had been covered in. Regular baths hadn’t exactly been available in Azkaban, he almost forgot what it felt like to be clean. Padfoot barked as she took up a washcloth and carefully cleaned his face.
When she drained the tub, he tried to hold still while she towel dried him, but the urge was too great to shake off the water. Penny squealed as droplets began flying out of his fur, laughing with her eyes closed and her head turned. When he had gotten as dry as a shake would allow, she pulled out some muggle contraption that she plugged into the wall and pointed at him. Hard, hot air blew out of one end, which at first he tried to bite, but quickly realizes it was useless. Penny seemed amused by it and waved the contraption all around his boy and tail, drying him off proper.
By the time he got out of the tub, he felt like a new dog — clean and cared for and re-energized.
“Okay,” she said, gathering up the towel she’d used on him. “All done. I’m gonna throw these in the wash and then go out to get a few things. Will you be okay if I leave you here alone for a bit?”
Padfoot barked and gave her a doggy grin. With her gone, he could have a look around her flat and figure out where he was exactly.
“Good boy,” she said, briefly scratching behind his ear before she stood and left the bathroom.
He followed her out, going right over to his water bowl for a drink. When he went to lay on his makeshift bed, he noticed it was gone and groaned under his breath. Laying on the floor, he moved his eyes over the whole front room, trying to decide where he would investigate first. The window that faced the street was a problem, he would need to close the curtains before transforming, but at least they were on the ground floor. It would make escaping later much easier.
Penny walked past him and picked up her purse from the corner of the sofa. “I’m gonna get you a new bed too, okay? The one you used last night had dead fleas all over it, it's in the wash. I shouldn’t be longer than an hour, so please don’t wreck my place. I promise I’m coming back.”
She came up and pet him affectionately, said goodbye and left the flat.
Padfoot waited until she walked by the window, then waited just a few minutes more before he stood and went to the window. Standing on his hind legs, he looked for a street name, but had no such luck. He’d have to find another way to figure out where he was. Moving to one side of the window, he took the curtain with his teeth and closed one side, then the other, before he transformed.
Sirius let out a breath, his elbows stretching back toward his spine before he started his inspection of his surroundings at the wall closest to the window. There were a few photos up that weren’t moving, as muggle photos often didn’t, of Penny with two others. He assumed they were her parents.
“I wonder what they’d say if they knew their daughter took in a stray wizard wanted for murder,” he mumbled to himself as he moved on to inspect the shelf full of books.
There were quite a few history books, but it wasn’t until he started to peruse the second shelf from the top that things got more interesting. And somewhat confusing. There was no question that Penny was a muggle, so why she had a copy of Magical Theory and A History of Magic was a question he didn’t have an immediate answer to. She couldn’t possibly be a Squib, he would’ve smelled it on her, the traces of magic lying dormant deep in her subconscious. So where had she gotten them?
Sirius looked back at her photographs, taking in her smile in one of them.
“How on Earth did you even find these books?” he asked under his breath.
And if she had these books, what else might she have that he would find interesting?
Looking back to the bookshelf, he perused the other titles, but found the rest to just be muggle books — even if there were quite a few more on the subject of witchcraft, mostly as it related to history. As he walked past the fireplace, something on the mantle caught his eye. Sirius stopped short when he looked to find a clear glass case, and inside it… was that a wand?!
Taking a step closer, he furrowed his brows as he inspected it closely, noting the engraved runes immediately. How had he not noticed that before? He sniffed the air above it, but couldn’t detect any magic coming from it. Touching the glass top, a shiver ran down his frame; the glass may have been too thick for him to be able to smell its magic, but he could feel the vibrations of it against the glass. It was a wand! Looking around every edge of the case, he tried to understand how he could open it. He wouldn’t do so any time soon, but there would certainly come a time where he would need a wand, and now he knew exactly where to find one.
“Bloody Rowena,” he muttered, unable to find a way for the case to open. He pointed at it indignantly. “I’ll get you somehow.”
Moving along for the time being, he went down the hallway, past the bathroom, and went into the next room. It appeared to be an office of sorts, with a desk that looked as though a tornado had blown over it, a big calendar hung on the wall, and yet another bookshelf filled to the brim. On the other side of the bookshelf beneath a window was a fluffy, comfortable looking arm chair. He went to the shelf and looked over the titles, inspecting each one and found three other magical texts that only a witch or wizard would ever find access to — An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Ancient Runes Translation.
“Well, well, well, Miss Penelope, you have quite the little collection, don’t you?” he mumbled.
Going to the desk, he tried to read some of the papers there without disturbing any of them. The last thing he wanted was for Penny to think that her new dog had allowed someone inside to search through her private things. One stack appeared to be some sort of academic paper, while various smaller, bright yellow papers were stuck across the desk, some on a box-looking machine with a black window. Curiously, he cupped his hands around his eyes and tried to peer inside, but couldn’t see anything. On the corner of the desk was an opened envelope, and he looked down at the address — her address. Number 11, Gordon Square. That was quite a drive from Surrey. But luckily for him, not very far from King’s Cross.
“What were you doing in Surrey then?”
He went into the next room, the one she had mentioned the night before as her bedroom, which unlike the office next door, was really quite organized. A large bed was situated against the wall beneath a window and a wardrobe across from the foot of it. On the night table was a clock, a lamp, a box of tissues, and three books, two of which appeared to be muggle fiction stories, the one at the bottom didn’t have a title on the cover. A diary perhaps?
Leaving the room, he went back down the hall, and into the sitting room just as a car door shut in the distance. He sniffed the air, picking up a familiar scent — Penny was back. Quickly, he transformed back to his dog form and went to open the curtains. He had only managed to get one open and was just halfway with the other when she opened the door.
Her eyes fell on him immediately as she froze halfway through the door. “Please no.”
He let go of the curtain and lowered his head, which seemed to reassure her. She reached just outside the door, and brought her haul inside, which he now saw included a large, fluffy pale blue pillow. Barking excitedly, he ran over to her, his tail wagging frantically as she dropped her purchases on the sofa. He sniffed at the bed before his attention went to the large brown paper bag on the sofa, digging his head inside while she laughed and gently pushed his head away.
“You don’t have hands, Bigfoot, let me get it all out,” she said.
Padfoot scooted back, sitting and staring as her arm reached into the bag and pulled out a long, thick bone.
“I guess this is what you want?” she asked, holding it out to him.
He wasted no time; he may have not actually been a dog, but when he was living as one, Padfoot enjoyed everything a dog would. Taking the bone over to where his bed had been, he laid down and began chewing on it. Perhaps he could stay a bit longer, just until school started. It was better than living on the street at any rate, and he could at least enjoy a few luxuries before he would have little choice but to live outside.
“Here, this’ll be a lot more comfortable, I bet. It’s supposed to help with dog anxiety,” she said, moving the large dog bed closer to him before she went back to the bag and pulled something else out. “And I got you a flea collar so you shouldn't get fleas anymore.”
She reached under his chin and fastened something around his neck with a soft click.
“There we go,” she said, going back to the sofa. “I got a couple more things for you.”
He could hear her speaking but was much more preoccupied with the bone that he was chomping on, licking the length of it for a bit before he would chew on one knotted end.
She dropped a couple of things on his dog bed and walked into the kitchen, saying she was gonna make him some food.
Good, his stomach was already beginning to growl from how delicious the bone was. Perhaps James had been right, perhaps he would be happier as a dog.
“On Monday we’re gonna go to the vet so they can check you for a chip,” she said, her voice carrying over the beeps from her pushing some buttons on the microwave. “Is it bad that I’m kinda hoping you don't have one?”
He paused his chewing for a moment to look over his shoulder at her. Did she really want to keep him? He’d never had anyone want to keep him before. Even when a child would show interest in wanting to play or pet him, their parents usually said that he was too big for their home. But Penny had a relatively small flat as well, and she wanted to keep him. She was staring at the microwave, her hand on the handle while she waited for his food to warm for a few seconds. Opening the door, she took out the bowl, touched the meat with the back of her finger and poured the slightly steaming chicken into his dog bowl.
“This might be a bit too hot,” she mumbled, frowning to herself. “Don’t worry, I’ll get better at heating it just right for you.”
His heart fluttered in his chest, but he turned his attention back to his bone. He was happy to stay until the school term began, but he knew he shouldn’t become too attached to Penny. It was better if he thought of her as merely a temporary landlord. She would provide him room and board, while he gave her companionship, as it seemed she didn’t have very much of that. Or at least, none that he’d seen to that point.
“Okay, Bigfoot, gimme the bone. It’s time for food,” she said.
Absolutely-bloody-not. Padfoot looked at her sideways, his teeth still contently gnawing at the end of the bone.
“Come on, buddy, you can have it back in a little while,” she said.
But I want it now! he tried to growl, but it came out as much more of a whine.
“Bigfoot…” The tone in her voice had shifted to a slightly deeper one, and when he looked up at her, she’d narrowed her eyes at him.
He whined again, but let the bone go, even if he still had it wedged between his paws.
“Don’t get snippy, you’ll get it back in a little while, okay? And on the upside, this little back and forth has given time for your food to cool,” she said, placing his bowl in front of him.
The scent of chicken prompted him to redirect his attention immediately, and he moved to the bowl to begin eating it.
“Good boy,” she said, standing.
His tail wagged lazily, snout still in his bowl.
“I need to work for a little bit, so I’ll just be in my office, okay?” she said, giving him a gentle pat on the head.
Her footsteps carried down the hall and a faint beep sounded from her home office. After finishing his chicken, he drank some water and went to find Penny. As he had anticipated, she was in her office, working on the contraption on the desk. The dark window on the box was now white, and displayed what appeared to be text. Didn’t muggles write things by hand anymore?
Curiously, he stood on his hind legs behind her, his two front paws on the back of her chair, and looked over her shoulder.
She glanced back at him and snorted softly. “You wanna finish my dissertation for me?”
Padfoot tilted his head as he looked at her. Disser… what?
“I’ve been working on it for three years, maybe you’ll have better luck coming up with a good conclusion,” she said, turning back to the window with the words on it. “I just get this feeling like there’s way more to be studied out there, and I can’t bring myself to finish.”
There were clicking sounds, and more words began to appear on the screen. It took a moment for him to realize that the clicking was Penny’s fingers on a thin, rectangular-shaped box that had letters, numbers and symbols on it.
What is this?! Padfoot barked.
“You know I never thought about that, but maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just write the conclusion around what I have for the dissertation so I can actually defend it, and then keep researching on my own. Who knows, maybe I can even write a paper and send it into a historical journal or something.”
Padfoot barked again.
“Yeah, well, that’s what I get for majoring in History with an emphasis in witchcraft. All our jobs are boring,” she said, still clicking.
Padfoot looked at her again, tilting his head slightly. She was studying witchcraft? As an academic? He didn’t think muggles actually did that. He had always assumed that the muggles who took an interest in magic were doing so for the purposes of gaining their own power, not to actually study it.
Penny looked back at him over her shoulder, pausing her fingers from clicking. “Do you ever feel like there’s magic in the world?”
His heart warmed though he couldn’t discern why. Perhaps because she seemed to be truly interested in the craft and not just how much power she could have. Not that she could ever have any, at least he didn’t think. There was still the matter of the very real wand that she was somehow in possession of, and the books. Where would she have come across those books? More to the point, how had the Ministry not confiscated them immediately?
“Okay, you don’t have to look at me like I’m crazy,” she said, turning back to the words on the window and mumbled. “Though you certainly wouldn’t be the only one.”
His eyes softened, still staring at her, and he inched his snout closer to her face, giving her a few kisses on her cheek. She huffed a gentle laugh, leaning into him before she looked back and lightly scratched his cheek.
“Thanks, buddy.” She turned back to her work and Padfoot fell back onto all fours, opting to lay by her feet. “Just let me write this conclusion and then we can go for a walk.”
His ears perked up at the word walk, his tail swishing back and forth across the floor.
She didn’t finish until nearly an hour later, and after pressing a few buttons, a different box that sat on the floor beside the desk started making a loud noise. He sprang to his feet, walking over and sniffing it. Ink? How had he not seen this earlier when he’d been looking around? And what was it?
Something was inching its way out. It was white paper, and had words on it.
“It’s okay,” Penny said, apparently having noticed his curiosity. “It’s just a printer.”
A printer? Muggles have printers?
“I guess you’ve never seen one before, huh?”
No, I haven’t, he thought, watching in awe as the paper was released and another began to follow.
“It’s easier for me to read something when I have it printed out in front of me,” she said. “Come on, that’s gonna take a while. My dissertation is 290 pages. Let’s go for a walk.”
He whipped his head around to look at her, eagerly following her down the hall and hopping on his front paws. She laughed and reached for a lead that was attached to a black collar. Ugh. Did he really have to wear that thing? He was well-trained, he didn’t need a lead. He barked at her, growling low in his throat as he stared at the lead.
“Don’t be a turd, you have to wear a leash or I could get in trouble,” she said. “Come on, I’ll take it off when we get back home.”
Groaning, he stayed still while she put the collar around his neck and led him outside, locking her door behind them.
“Just a short walk, okay? You’re still recovering, so we’ll wanna take it easy for now,” she said as they walked at a leisurely pace down the sidewalk.
A walk in theory had sounded wonderful, but his legs began to ache almost halfway down the block, slowing him down slightly.
“You wanna turn back?” Penny asked, kneeling beside him and petting his head affectionately. “It’s okay if it’s too soon for a walk. I’m so stupid, I should’ve known better.”
Don't say that, you aren't stupid, love, Padfoot whined softly.
“Yeah, let’s go back,” she said. “We can veg out on the sofa, take it easy. What do you say?”
Barking lazily, Padfoot followed her back to her flat, waiting for her to open the door before he went straight for his water bowl. After she got the collar off of him, he laid on the fluffy bed she’d gotten him and almost instantly fell asleep.
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