Lionel Washburn

Matthew raised an eyebrow, it wasn’t literal, and wondering whether the implication was too vague or he wanted to know, or both. Both? If he had said it, he was sure that it would have been inappropriate, so he wasn’t sure how to play this game, as usual. Was it still inappropriate? He had asked, but then again. Plus, he wasn’t sure whether he was comfortable doing it. He was comfortable jokingly implying it. This is tiring. He stood silently for a second, beginning to speak a couple of time before settling on: “You can guess the area.” He suddenly remembered about something he had read that said you should be careful what you tell colleagues, because they might use it against you, and he thought, especially someone with my social skills.

#prof-m-jacobs-whittingstall #c: matthew

Matthew seemed to hesitate over Lionel’s question, and Lionel waited patiently while the other man found his words. Ah, he was starting to feel somewhat bad - perhaps he shouldn’t have been so esoteric; they both knew what Matthew meant to imply. “Yes, I can. I figured that’s what you meant in the beginning. Sorry. It’s just that I love to hear it straight, especially when it's someone as proper as you.”

Rematch || James & Lionel

Any opportunity to play quidditch was good enough for James, but the chance to have a one on one ‘rematch’ game against an old Keeper? That was too good. Once James got back to his flat in muggle London he immediately changed his clothes into something appropriate for quidditch. Not his uniform, of course, but something he would wear to practice. After that he grabbed his broom, goggles, and gloves. The goggles and gloves had been custom made specifically for him. The gloves were a little worn, but he wouldn’t need a new pair for another year or so. The goggles, like all standard professional quidditch goggles, allowed him to see in all types of weather and at night. James put the gloves on while walking out the door and slid on the goggles so they were hanging on his neck like a necklace. Broom in hand, James apparated to outside Hogwarts.

The walk to the castle from outside Hogsmeade took a few minutes. James walked with his broom slung lazily over his shoulder. Few people took notice of him as he walked, which he was thankful for. He went straight to the pitch, as he had done countless times before. The team would walk in nervous silence before the games. They’d walk back to the castle cheering and yelling and chanting if they’d won, and if they lost someone would still be making them grin. Usually the Seeker, for whatever reason. It seemed like the only thing that had changed was the team that he played for. And maybe the stakes were a bit higher too. Nobody wants to pay an incompetent Chaser.

Keeping with his trademark punctuality, James arrived on the pitch ten minutes later than he said he would. Lionel was waiting for him. Shit. He quickly walked over, an apology written on his lips. “’m late, I know, sorry.” The final word slid easily through his teeth. It was probably the one word he said the most. Sorry. James cleared his voice and ran a hand through his hair. For once, running a hand through it managed to make it look better rather than mess it up. “Uh, so, you ready for a rematch?”

#eldest-potter #c: james potter

The sun was just about to set when Lionel managed to clean himself up and change into a pair of pants and a shirt that wasn’t too professor-y but still somehow managed to uphold the air of academia after hours. He’d brought his own broomstick from when he used to play in Hogwarts, an Air Wave Gold that still managed to retain some of its original charm despite getting on in age, and a Quaffle, since it’d be pointless to bring any of the other balls for a game between only two people.

He found that he was first on the pitch, and alone, though something so trivial rarely bothered him and he basked in the warmth of the setting sun and inevitable nostalgia. The Hufflepuff Quidditch team had been very good when he’d been on it; the team captain had the sense to kick the players that the rest of the team were often forced to carry. Lionel was very good, he could admit that, but certainly not the best. Good enough to be reliable and good enough to pull some plays off on his own once in a while. But while he had no doubt James was miles ahead of him at this point, he was looking forward to a bit of fun. The younger man seemed so timid upon their earlier meeting, Lionel was eager to see if there was another side to him that he could coax out.

James arrived ten minutes later than their appointed time, and Lionel greeted him with a cheery grin and a wave. “Oh, don’t fret, ten minutes won’t kill us. Though, the sun’s about to set - hope you do well playing in the dark, dear fellow.” He mounted his broom and lifted himself off just a few feet off the ground, grinning down at James before tossing him the Quaffle. “So, since this is all so informal and I realize it’s rather hard to play Quidditch with only two people, we might do well trying to chase each other around and throw the Quaffle into each other’s hoops. Unless you have a better game in mind for two people?”

Still sweeping the glass into a pile, James nodded. He doubted he would actually play to his full ability, but he certainly wouldn’t take it easy on him. He had to hold up Puddlemere United’s good name. Once the glass was in a pile James stood. “Yeah, uh, I suppose it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking around the office. He had never actually taken Divination, thanks to the recommendations from his parents, aunts, and uncles. The class looked interesting. “I’ll be rubbish with those ancient school brooms. I’ll just…” James gestured vaguely out the door, “get mine at home? And meet you at the pitch in a half hour?” His voice wavered slightly. He didn’t sound sure of himself.

#eldest-potter #c: james potter #ahh i tried to have him flirt kinda obviously there

Lionel gazed down at the pile of glass, suddenly aware that his work had been done for him, and he smiled lightly. James was a funny boy - shy despite his celebrity status, but youthful, and Lionel sensed something else simmering under the surface. He was curious. “Fair enough. Wouldn’t want those rickety old things holding you back - I’d like this to be a fair game, after all,” he said coyly and in jest. Lionel would surely lose if James respected him enough not to go easy, but if he was to be honest, he wasn’t expecting to win. And it wasn’t the reason why he suggested the match in the first place. “Try not to be late. With your company, I’d like to take advantage of the light outside as much as possible.”

musicforants

The Tallest Man on Earth “Sagres”

#biking #hobbies #the best muggle invention since sliced bread

And so here I go again Say I want my freedom, sure but it's like end of all the dreams Like in my life I needed more and this madness, I suppose Gonna haunt me with a lie That I could drink until I sleep through, oh, scarier times

#songs

uafairbanks

wordsnquotes

Please don’t, above all, plant me in your heart. I grow too quick.

Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets To Orpheus

#rainer maria rilke #quotes #lionel to someone at some point probably

“I see the reasoning.” Matthew hated this question as he always felt like a fool answering it. “Sit somewhere quiet. Read non-fiction. Other things I shouldn’t say where students can hear me.”

#c: matthew #prof-m-jacobs-whittingstall

“Very nice. That does sounds lovely, especially when the students have been especially nattery.” Lionel raised an eyebrow curiously. “Well, you can’t say something like that and expect me to let up on it. It’s the weekend, no students ever hang around the North Tower, you know.”

Shit. James remembered him now. The captain that year always told him to not be afraid or threatened because the Keeper was a 7th year. Which only got him nervous and reminded him that he was playing against a 7th year Keeper. “I remember you.” James said in an almost apologetic tone. He bent down to help clean up the glass, being careful not to cut himself. “Is that a challenge?” James asked, looking him in the eye. Something of a rare occurrence for him. James wasn’t one to back down from any challenge, especially if it involved quidditch. He looked back down at the glass. “I- I’m a professional player. You already know that though. I train for Keepers a lot more difficult than you. Uh… You won’t win. Sorry.” His tone was the opposite of cocky. He sounded more concerned that he didn’t know the facts.

#um #the gif you used is starting to make me ship them #uh oh #c: james potter #eldest-potter

“My dear fellow, I know I won’t win. You’re a Quidditch player and I play as a hobby,” Lionel said with a bark of an incredulous laugh. It was sweet how James felt the need to warn him, and he watched the other man help pick up the pieces with a wry grin. “Oh, careful - you’ll need those fingers for the championship, and I already plan on betting.” He met James’ gaze with a raise eyebrow and an eager grin. “But, I can promise I will try to best you, and I don’t ask you’ll take it easy on me. Besides, I can’t ever offer to play with students, people will get the wrong idea. It’s a good thing you’re grown.”

Matthew raised his eyebrow knowingly. He had enough fire in himself as it was, which had got around the staff as “moody git”. Except Colin, who knew a little more, but the sentiment was essentially the same. And that was when he had his public face on. People had always reacted strangely to his natural tone and demeanour anyway. Or they had a problem with finger tapping or running his hand against the stone wall or other atypical but harmless things.

He cocked his head slightly, knowing there was an inference he was behind on. “No, because it doesn’t have any meaning unless you know how they got there. And I don’t read fiction much anymore.”

#prof-m-jacobs-whittingstall #c: matthew

“Eh, I suppose you’re right. That’s the sensible answer anyway. Unfortunately, I had to live like that when I was young, though it was a bit fun getting a vision of something completely random and seeing the chain of events that lead up to it. Like my aunt's elopment - came as a surprise to everyone else but me.” Lionel shrugged casually. “To each his own, I suppose. Don’t care for fiction, then? Then what do you do for fun, professor?”

James blinked at him, absorbing the information. All that he said seemed true enough. Their Keeper was in his last few years of playing, and it was starting to show. “We’ll qualify for championships?” James nearly whispered. He desperately wanted to believe that.

“’M sorry, but I don’t think I know you. Sorry. I suppose I’m grown. I’m twenty.”

#c: james potter #eldest-potter #omfg james is so cute #help

“Oh, sure you will. You lot always do.” The boy was so earnest that Lionel couldn’t had lied to him about that even if he wanted to, and he smiled lightly. “But don’t ask me for any further information - I’m done spoiling things for ourselves for the moment.” Lionel started to bend over to pick up the broken glass only to pause midway at James’ words to pout. “Well, I’m hurt. Was I such a mediocre Quidditch player that I failed to make an impression?” He winked and waved his hand nonchalantly. “I played as Keeper for Hufflepuff in my last year of Hogwarts, when you were only a first year. You were so small and cute, I didn’t think you’d be such a monster ChaserWe played against each other a few times, though Hufflepuff lost the last match we played together. Still looking for a rematch, you know.”

nottvioletta

“It might be for decoration?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m here on a walk. I don’t take your class for a reason. I normally don’t like coming this way, but I heard a noise..”

#c: violetta nott #nottvioletta

“Ugh, no, that’s what the plants are for,” Lionel said, shuddering. “If there’s anyone out there who actually uses Divination or any academic paraphernalia merely as decoration, I shouldn’t like to meet them.” He set about picking up the broken glass, nodding with a chuckle. “Yes, yes, that reason being that you believe it to be nonsense, I remember. Tell me, Miss Nott, do you also go up to other professors whose classes you’re not interested in and tell them their subject matter is nonsense? If you do, what specifically induces this?”

“That can’t be right! We’ve had eight hour practices. He woke me up at three in the morning to train… That’s not right.” James bit his lip, growing uncomfortable at the fan comment. He was talking to a fan. He didn’t know him. James ran a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was.

#c: james potter #eldest-potter

“Well, that sounds absolutely horrendous. You’re free to be skeptical of my sight, of course, many people are. You simply can’t carry the entire team on your back against the Ballycastle Bats, especially with that Keeper of yours, though lord knows many have tried. Besides, you’ll still qualify for championships.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Enough shop talk. ... old friend. You’re very grown now, aren’t you?”

“What? No!”

#c:#james potter #hello!! i'm jo :)#and omg that's hilarious i picked puddlemere at random #fair warning lionel will be hounding him to play with him in the pitch

“... What is it?”

“Oh! Heavens. I forgot who I was talking to for a second. If it makes you feel any better, I’m as broken up about it as you - only difference is that I’m doing my grieving now. Did I mention I’m a huge fan...?”

“I don’t keep up with sport,” he shook his head. “No,” he said sheepishly, unsure whether he should say he sat in here. He busied himself picking up some of the glass.

#c: matthew #prof-m-jacobs-whittingstall

“No? You should. Really brings out the competitive spirit, that primitive fire in oneself - it’s grand.”

Matthew’s a tad quieter than Lionel’s used to, but it doesn’t perturb him - rather Lionel quite likes knowing, at least, someone’s avidly listening, even if he’s just nattering on. “I used to play Quidditch, you know. Wasn’t too bad of a Keeper, myself -” he cut himself off to look at Matthew quizzically. “No, no, you don’t need to help, that was entirely my own fault for spoiling myself. I always used to do that you know, it’s like skipping to the end of a book to see what happens. Did you ever do that?”

Matthew raised his eyebrow slightly but smiled. He sometimes perched in here, but he obviously had picked at time when the room’s owner was there. And Barn Owls weren’t particularly small and hard to see. He always wasn’t sure what to say to this.

“Okay.”

#c: matthew #prof-m-jacobs-whittingstall

“Hm. Not a fan of Quidditch? Or maybe you don’t care for Puddlemere United? Well, no one can be perfect, I suppose.” Lionel shot Matthew a cheeky grin before setting about to pick up the broken glass. “Anyway, professor, what brings a logical fellow like you here? Certainly you’re not looking to have your future told.”

hanarichinspiration-blog

[all] quirks my muse habitually has.