Thatâs very sweet.
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@notttmyproblem
Thatâs very sweet.
rab-strangeâ:
Rabastan smirked, giving Nott a quick but firm smack upside the head âlovingly.â The comment made him more uncomfortable than he let on, but he simply brushed it off.Â
â Agh get bent.â He chuckled. âTosser.âÂ
âYou just here jerking off or do you actually have something to do? Pub?â He asked eagerly. He barred his teeth and raised his brows, hoping Nott would give him the answer he obviously wanted.Â
The amount of pressure Theo applies when grinding his teeth would be enough to break bone. Jaw taunt and brows furrowed, Theodore met the manâs eyes with a forced smile. He didnât have the luxury of drawing attention to himself, not at this moment, but how he wished he could return the favor. His fingers twitch on the wand he still held in his fingers. âHard of hearing, Lestrange?âÂ
Any who knew him would know that he hated drinking. It turned wise men into fools, and fools into... well, even bigger fools. But the things that people let slip when intoxicated was an astonishing amount. As of right now, his job was mainly to observe, so wandering into a pub wouldnât be so detrimental. âAre you offering me a drink then, mate? How kind. Of course Iâll join you.â
narcissaxblckâ:
Painted lips, curled ever so slightly into a smile. âAre you trying to mock me Nott?â There was no offense t be fund there, just a teasing edge. It had never been her intention to become close to the Nott son, and she couldnât quite put her finger on when exactly they began to converse with more ease. But they had && the witch T R U S T E D him enough, to ask these dumb questions, to showcase such an embarrassing weakness. Edging her finger closer, the blonde looked both ways for any onlookers before crouching down beside him, moving to stroke the creatures ears, somewhat cautiously, clearly still unsure. âLike this?â A nervous wonder graced over often overly perceptive eyes.Â
âI would never mock you, dear.â Except that he was and is, though there is no malice behind it like it might have been, had it been anyone else. Secrets and knowledge, he always thought, were far more powerful than any blood or spell. Blackmail was surprisingly easy to come by. But he wouldnât do that to her, even if he felt like it. She had done nothing to him, and despite everything, she was a person to respect.Â
The smile on his lips is light and genuine, and he doesnât bother to hide it when he bends down to her level. âGently, of course, but youâre doing perfectly. Iâve always likened Lucius to felines. Donât you see the resemblance?â
Rabastan turned up a laneway towards a busy afternoon in Diagon Alley. Heâd come here, rather naively thinking the place would be empty during the mid-afternoon sunshine. Why are you people here?! Donât any of you work? He thought bitterly, ignoring the blatant fact that he too was here, and very much unemployed. It didnât matter for him, he had plenty to live off of.Â
He spotted a figure dodging their way between groups of laughing witches and shopping wizards. Quickening his step, he hurried to follow them, eventually gaining ground till he was right behind.Â
He reached round their waist to grab them into a tight, yet fun-loving backwards hug.Â
âDidnât think youâdââ Oh bollocks! Sorry!â He stammered, cheeks blushing. âThought you were someone elseâŚâ
His business being here was, as his job would suggest, unspeakable. Wandering Diagon Alley was about as mundane as one might expect, but he always found it interesting to observe the other wizards and witches wandering about their daily lives. The amount of information you could gather from a person just watching them was far more valuable than most would think. Normally, his âaffairsâ were conducted undisturbed and without trouble. That is why, when he feels someoneâs arms slipping around him, the first thing he does is slip his hand into his pocket to draw his wand. âListen, love,â he sighed when he finally met Rabastanâs face, âI usually prefer mental foreplay first before physical contact is initiated.â His face is mildly perturbed. âCat got your tongue?â
andrmdablckâ:
Andromeda always held on to the little things in people. The little glimpses of something better than what they showed the world, the hope that what was underneath the surface would bubble up someday. Theodore was one of those people that she held onto. Someone who, even though she turned her back on âthat sideâ, she could never turn her back on him. Nothing was ever so black and white, and watching him begrudgingly give his muffin to a cat made her smile warmly. âMoments like these, I wish I had a camera. Whereâs Skeeter when you need her?â Finally making her presence known by speaking, she momentarily leaned over to give the cat a quick scratch behind its ears. âThink itâs a stray?â
He hadnât expected to see her â really, to see or speak with her again. Theodore had no ill will toward Andromeda. She was her own woman and knew she wanted. He had nothing against her other than petty jealousy. She made it seem like it was so easy to forsake everything she cared about for a greater purpose. He didnât know what it felt like. Theodore would refuse to consider himself a coward, but then... wasnât he?Â
âAndromeda,â he sighed, keeping his eyes on her as though she might decide to draw her wand. A person could never truly know these days what someone might do, even if you were once close to them. âStray or not, itâs well-fed. I wouldnât worry about him. He seems to know what heâs doing. Thinking of taking it in?âÂ
indagatorveriâ:
Being fully aware that Theodore was a code 1 didnât stop Gideon from crouching and passing a hand over the catâs furâbesides, it was ridiculous how often someone would let something slip when their guard was down, and Gideonâs classification hadnât yet risen to the point of no return. He could still plausibly deny his affiliation. âSheâs only spoiled because people like you keep feeding her,â they pointed out evenly. A slight smirk tugged at their lip, but they kept it from spreading fully across their features, instead maintaining a neutral expression.
He always preferred cats over people. Their quiet and independent nature was easy to be around as opposed to the drama people could create over simple matters. Gideonâs sudden appearance was unexpected. Theodore hadnât thought anyone was around to witness him giving in to the beastâs quiet demands, therefore his unfamiliar gentle expression seemed to disappear within a matter of seconds. âHm.â He stood back up, shoving his hands into his pockets without bothering to rid himself of the crumbs. âClearly you are unfamiliar with these creatures. Deny it and itâll follow you until you die of old age.â
narcissaxblckâ:
Yes seeing the little thing, now mewing in Theoâs arms, the blonde couldnât help but wonder why she had been so afraid for so many years. A serge of curiosity overrode any past fears for the creatures, && the women took a couple of steps closer.  âIâm not sure.â She admitted, she hated this, she hated showing such weakness, such uncertainly over a creature so small⌠Yet she was somewhat assured that she could trust Nott, He wasnât one to gossip, not really. But still she felt more akin to a child in this moment, another thing she hated. âWill it bite me?â
âNo,â he sighed, ânot unless you want it to, of course.â His answering grin is devilish but not mocking. Most wouldnât notice Narcissaâs apprehension; she was the type of woman who hated the idea of having your heart out on your sleeve for all to see. Theodore, however, was observant. âKneazles are smart, Narcissa. They appreciate respect just as much as you do, Iâm sure.â
reginalxcâ:
Brows knitted together at the sight. It wasnât that he was surprised to see the Nott fellow feeding the stray. because really even with all the rumours that Reginald would hear, it wasnât an oddity to him, to see these glimpses of kindness in others. What truly confused him was that the cat was even interested in the muffin. âIsnât that bad for him?â He couldnât help the comment, even if he knew heâd be better served by keeping his mouth firmly shut.Â
âI really donât think it cares whatâs bad for him, Reginald.â The cat was peering up at him eagerly, and who was he to deny? It wasnât his cat, and if he wanted something, why should Thedore stop him? Live your life to your fullest â might as well, since the cat probably had the easiest life off all. No Dark Mark or Order business on its mind. âIf you have something better in mind, by all means.â
narcissaxblckâ:
She had always been unnerved b animals, the thought of their unpredictability always caused an uneasiness to swell, blinding her to any possible curiosity. Yet this cat didnât seem so bad, Narcissa wanted to tame this fear, she wanted to prove to herself that her fears were nothing when going head to head with her own will. âItâs rather small to be called a beast..â
âA beast is a beast no matter the size.â The cat was certainly not like other felines ( hence why he had a particular fondness for kneazles in general ), but that didnât mean he liked that it was somehow manipulating him with just a look. Oddly, the cat did remind him of Narcissa; the number of things she could get a person to do with just a glance was impressive. âWant to pet it, dear?â He smiles encouragingly.
The cat didnât look starved for anything, but it still stared at him from where he stood in front of the shop. It had large eyes, and it didnât blink even once. It made him uncomfortable. Theodore had a kneazle of his own, but this one seemed incredibly focused on the object in his hand. A muffin, to be exact. With a sigh of defeat ( this mental test of wills was grating ), he bends down and lets the little beast indulge himself in his morning breakfast. âSpoiled beast.â
Tiffany Schmidt, Bright Before Sunrise
The coolness of the night hit his cheeks, causing them to redden in turn. Still, technically still on call in case of emergency, the cup in his hands was filled with caffeine, not something stronger like a lot of the rest festival-goers. âI feel like weâve been lucky, last year at this point we had seen the first flakes of snow.â
âThere are places where you can warm-up, Reginald.â The Hufflepuff was certainly a grumpy fellow, but Theo found it endearing. He didnât blow everything out of proportion like so many others did. âEvening,â he said after a moment, realizing he hadnât said anything to announce his presence. It was a little late of a response, but he doubted Reg cared much. âCaffeine instead of beer?â
letrangerabâ:
The familiar presence at his side makes it easier to ramble and it takes a moment for him to stop. Then Rabastanâs fingers join Theodoreâs on their own and play their familiar dance on the counter, as always playing thousands of tunes in the span of a few moves. âItâs not nonsensical itâs just that I canât deal anymore with ungraceful gits who-â He starts to explain but looks up intently at his dear friendâs question.
Squinting his eyes, he tries to see if heâs being mocked or not, since Theodore has a way to say the things that irk him the most. âYouâve seen me dance an incalculable amount of times Theodore, you know perfectly well that Iâm better than anyone standing in this tent.â Finally leaning closer too, he raises his eyebrows with wonder. âAre you drunk off your mind?â
Once Rabastanâs fingers join his on the table, Theoâs smile grows a little more. Itâs not as noticeable to those who didnât know them, but it was real and it meant something. âThen why donât you do your best to prove to these ungainly gits just how itâs done?â He waves his hand toward the dance floor, a mirthful glint in his eyes.
As the other leaned forward, Theodore chuckled. He didnât like getting inebriated; the lack of control it created always made him uncomfortable. The walls he held up around himself were carefully placed, and the alcohol had a tendency of chipping away at them. âYou know me better than that,â he sighed, dancing fingers finally stopping to reach up and tap the other fondly on the cheek. âDo you want me to be? Lost your control around him finally? Iâm sorry, Lestrange, but youâll have to try harder to get into my robes.â
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