#empresskaze

Commission for @empresskaze of their lovely OC, Professor Gabriel!

If you like my drawings, and are willing and able to do so, please consider pledging to my Patreon or donating through ko-fi ☕! You're not obliged to, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really do appreciate it!

Yesterday, I reblogged this great list of snz fall prompts by @buckysnose and was sent this great ask for Silas and Bertie.

Warm drinks ☕️

Sniffles 💧

I really loved the prompt combination, Kaze, and was excited to write for the two of them again. Thank you so much for sending this ask <3 I hope you'll enjoy this little ficlet.

These are my two Victorian-era- inspired OCs Silas and Albert. Their story so far can be read in Part 1 - Taking a Ride, as well as Part 2 - Taking a Rest. I am currently working on Part 3, but it might still take a while.

This little scene is set at some point after Part 3 of their story. It can be read on its own and I apologise for the title as well as for any mistakes because this is not beta-ed.

Warnings: two men in love, one of them with a cold, the other with a valet as cool as a cucumber. Nakedness is mentioned, but not explicitly described. And somehow they are drinking alcohol again. It seems to be their thing. Brief mention of naughty things done with a tasseled belt. And of course some snz.

***

Frolicking (OCs, M/M, cold)

"I don't know what you were thinking!,"Albert chided, giving Silas a reproachful look as he hovered over him like an angry bee, then fussed some more as he pried the soaking wet coat off Silas' body. Silas just let it happen, trying his best not to exasperate his friend even more. He shivered slightly, even though Albert's rooms were nice and warm as always, but the damp fabric clung to his body like a second skin.

"Once again, I... hhhehhh... I do apologize, Bertie. It's just that I longed to see you tonight, so I decided to come over for a surprise visit*snnnffff* I meant to sneak in rather stealthily with the key you gave me. It was never my intention to cause any trouble.. and I certainly did not mean to compromise you by letting Barker witness my arrival. ” At that, Albert suddenly stopped the fussing, hands resting on Silas' drenched lapels as he eyed him confusedly. "Barker? Why on earth...?”

It took a moment until the penny dropped and Albert caught Silas' meaning. Apparently, Silas was worried he was angry with him because Barker had seen him enter. Usually, Silas was very good at entering the house unnoticed, but his sodden shoes and trouser legs had naturally drawn the valet's attention as they had made the most horrific noise on the tiles in the downstairs hallway, no matter how hard Silas had tried to slink soundlessly along the hallway.

“Ooohhh...! Oh no, don't you worry about Barker, that's not what I meant,” Albert reassured him, waving his hand dismissively. “Barker won't mind, he is very discreet. No, I'm talking about you, my love! Walking all the way here in the pouring rain! Look at the state of you!" Albert gestured, while Silas kept dripping water from every inch of his being, soaking the plush carpet in Albert's private sitting room. Albert was not wrong. Silas was in an absolutely awful state. The sudden downpour had taken him by surprise only a few minutes after he had left his own house for a sneaky, late-evening visit to his friend. Of course he could have turned around and gone back home, but he had longed to see his Bertie, and besides they did not live THAT far from each other, did they?

In theory, they did not. However, Silas soon found that the downpour was only getting worse and that the distance between their respective dwellings seemed to cruelly stretch out further and further the heavier the raindrops pelted down on him and his fashionable, alas regrettably thin coat.

So Silas had arrived at Albert's town house a dripping wet mess. Barker had met the scene with an almost blank, neutral face. Only the hint of a smile and the slightest twitch of an eyebrow had suggested Barker's real thoughts on Silas' late-evening visit long after respectable calling hours, as the valet had taken him upstairs to Albert's private quarters without as much as a word on why Silas was there. It had all been terribly embarrassing. "I'm sorry, Bertie, please don't be cross with me. I couldn't bear it... heehhhh....Hehh'dzSHhIew!!!" "Ah, there we go! Now you've caught a chill from frolicking around in the rain!" "I did not 'frolic' I was merely walk...wahhhlkhiinnn...Ngg'TSSHiih!! *snffff* Hell's teeth! Excuse mbe!" Silas had hastily ducked to the side to avoid spraying Albert with the poorly stifled sneeze, annoyed with his nose for its terrible timing. Albert just clicked his tongue and gave Silas a withering look. "See?! Quod erat demonstrandum, my love." "It's been only a few sneezes, Bertie. If anything it's a slight case of the sniffles, nothing more... HhEdzZsHIh!! TSSHHIhh!!! *snnfff*" he clamped a gloved hand in front of his face, barely covering the set of sneezes that shook his frame and sent droplets of water flying from his drenched clothes as if he were a wet dog. "*snnnrrff* So sorry.... As I said, it is merely a case of the sniffles. Do not fret on my behalf. You keep fussing over nothing, Bertie!”

Lol Dylan tries. also whoops, this happened

————

Dylan waits as Andy pulls out the shirt from the packaging. Something flashes across his husbands face before he smiles.

“It’s perfect!” Andy said, leaning over to give Dylan a peck on the cheek. Dylan leaned in out of habit, his brows furrowing.

“Liar.” Dylan accuses, raising a finger as Andy looked as if he was about to protest, “Before you say anything, please remember I have a doctorate for studying people’s behavior.”

Andy’s eyebrows raised momentarily as he considered his options. With a slight sigh he set down the shirt, taking Dylan’s hand.

“It’s not my team.”

“What? No!” Dylan’s chest caved slightly in disappointment with himself, searching his memory for the name he could’ve swore was Andy’s team.

“It’s fine, though, really.” Andy squeezed Dylan’s hand reassuringly, “Its the thought that counts.”

Dylan huffed in reply.

“Well, I’ll just return it and get you something else.” Dylan reached for the shirt but Andy pulled it to his chest.

“No, I want it!” Andy protested, making Dylan a mixture of surprised and annoyed.

“You don’t have to amuse me, I understand why you don’t want it—“ Dylan reached for the shirt again, leaning farther this time.

“But I do!” Andy continued, attempting to hide a smile as he leaned further away. Dylan relented with a sigh.

“Fine, keep it.” He said, kissing Andy’s shoulder despite his tone. Andy smiled in triumph and laid the shirt aside.

A week later Dylan came home from the precinct and found Andy watching a game on the couch.

“Welcome home! Just in time to catch the last half.” Andy greeted him over his shoulder as Dylan walked in.

“Lucky me.” Dylan said, leaning down to give Andy a kiss. As he began to turn away to set his things down in the office.

“Is that the shirt I bought you?” Dylan asked, already knowing the answer.

Andy smiled, stretching out the ends slightly so the natural wrinkles didn’t obscure the lettering.

“The one and only.”

Dylan sighed.

“I told you that you didn’t have to keep it, let alone wear it.” Dylan continued on his way to his office, setting his things down on the sofa.

“Yes, but, I have an idea.” Andy raised his voice so Dylan could hear him in the other room. Dylan took off his suit jacket and laid it neatly beside his case before returning to the living room.

“And what is this idea?” Dylan asked, noting the second wine glass on the table already poured.

“If you’ll notice, my team isn’t playing.” Andy gestured to the screen as Dylan sat down. Dylan gave him a look.

“Okay, well my team isn’t playing, ” Andy amended, remembering Dylan didn’t know his team enough to tell, “but if you’ll notice a familiar name…” Andy gestured between his shirt and the screen. Dylan realized one of the teams playing was the same name as what stood out in gold letters.

Andy continued when he saw it click in Dylan’s expression.

“So, now you’ll just have to look at the merch I have on to see who to root for.”

“Alright, but you don’t have merchandise from every opposing team.” Dylan countered after a pause.

Andy made a face.

“Actually, I kind of do. You may be a doctor in behavior but you kind of suck at remembering team names. I have like, two other team jerseys? And that doesn’t include the hats.”

Dylan put his face in his hands, laughing.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Andy laid a hand on Dylan’s back in a mock comforting way.

“It’s the thought that counts.”

Dylan laughed again, sitting up and shaking his head. Andy handed him his glass and wrapped his arm around him so they could watch the game.

Sickdays Aug 17th: Public Illness

Written by @empresskaze

Tags: headache, overworked, dizziness, migraine, illness, whump, sick fic

Characters: My OCs Liam and Gabriel

~~~~

Love Like Ours

“The uprisings in Russia in the first half of the 20th century, most notably the revolution of peasant farmers uprising against their feudal lords, whose land they toiled, greatly tied into the events of Orwell’s Animal Farm.  He used animals as an allegory to retell the end of feudalism, however the use of the pigs…

Gabriel paused a brief wave of dizziness engulfed him; hand tightly gripped the back of the chair.  His vision blurred slightly a few quick blinks the room came back into focus.

Heaving a heavy sigh Gabriel massaged his forehead wishing the Advil he’d taken earlier curbed his throbbing headache.

“Professor?” A girl’s voice broke the silence. Gabriel glanced up to the faces of his students staring back; he’d momentarily forgotten he was still in class.

Running a hand through his hair he turned hoping to conceal the blush burning his face.  Clearing his throat he took a quick breath, “Apologies class, where was I?”

“Pigs.  The same girl replied her face breaking into a smile.

The professor stared befuddled then remembered. “Quite right.” Gabriel ignored a few giggles coming from his students.  Struggling to maintain his composure while finishing the lecture he finally made the last 20 or so minutes of class free time meaning a good majority of students left. Not that Gabriel minded sitting behind his desk head leaning against his hand, eyes closed.

“Professor Herondale?”

His hand slipped at the voice, “Hmm?” He looked up, “Oh Trenton? How can I assist you?” Gabriel forced a smile.

“Are you feeling okay?” The young man with short blonde hair, oval wire frame glasses over his dark blue eyes asked looking quite concerned.

“Oh fine fine, bit of a headache is all.” Gabriel lied through his teeth. He could tell the English student did not believe him. “Maybe a slight fever. I, uh, didn’t sleep too well last night.” He flushed embarrassed about admitting all this to a student.

“Need anything?” Trenton adjusted his bag over his shoulder.

All Gabriel wanted was a nap, “No no perfectly fine.” He forced another smile. “Just study for the exam next week if you could.”

Trenton agreed, hoped Gabriel felt better soon and exited the classroom. Resting his head in a thunk on the desk the feverish professor remained that way for several minutes until the realization of probably falling asleep and waking up there tomorrow became too much to ignore. Throwing on his coat he nearly reached the door before back tracking to the desk grabbing his briefcase.

Thank you, darling! Have a stubborn Liam who never knows when to stay home.

“I’m not sick. There is no way I’m sick. I cannot be sick right now.”

And maybe if you tell yourself that over and over, Cooper, it’ll magically be true.

Staring at himself morosely in the mirror that adorned the wall to the left of the front door, Liam pouted at his reflection. He looked washed out and tired, his eyes bright and his face a sickly white. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and a pinkish tinge around his nostrils. He just looked… bleh. And that bleh appearance perfectly matched the bleh feeling that he’d woken up to that morning. A feeling that he had promptly ignored, getting out of bed despite heavy muscles screaming at him to roll himself into a blanket burrito and just stay put.

See, he really couldn’t be sick today, because he had a gig. And it wasn’t the usual ‘play in a smoky bar somewhere’ kind of gig, or a few slots at an open mic night. This was special, because for the first time ever his band was being paid to play a wedding. A wedding with a country chic theme, which meant that the list of requested songs contained a lot more country than he had been comfortable with at first. But he had spent hours hunched over his guitar with sheet music he’d printed off the internet spread around him, and he had listened to Spotify so much that his phone had actually shut itself off in protest. He had learned those Tim McGraw and Nitty Gritty Dirt Band songs, and he was ready.

Except for the fact that he looked like he felt, which was just shy of 'like shit’.

He was reaching for his keys from the little bowl that Evan had put on a table in the hall so that Liam would stop doing the grumpy stomp around the house first thing in the morning when he thought he’d lost them when two things happened. The first was the scrape of a key in the lock announcing Evan’s return from the store, and the second was a sudden wave of dizziness that nearly knocked him off his feet. Coming from seemingly nowhere, it caused darkness to creep around the edges of his vision and he had to grip the edge of the little table to keep from losing his footing. His head filled with the white noise that always came just before he passed out, and he barely heard the alarmed burst of Evan’s voice when he stepped into the house.

Strong arms looped around him, and Liam leaned against his husband’s thankfully broad chest at once, his head dipping down to find the comfortable curve of his shoulder that he was used to nuzzling into. The dizziness didn’t pass entirely, but it did lessen significantly. Enough that when Evan pulled back to gently turn his face up, he didn’t feel like he was immediately pass out. He even managed to open his eyes and look at his very concerned husband.

“Okay, wow. You look pale as hell,” he murmured, his voice sounding both far away and a little too close at once. His brows were furrowed, and there was a tightness around his eyes and his mouth that told Liam that he was not happy. “We were *just* texting, did you feel this bad the entire time we were talking about your parents eye-fucking each other?”

Huffing a laugh that was devoid of any energy at all, Liam shrugged tiredly and nodded. “I mean, the dizziness is new, but yeah. Pretty much. I’m still not missing the wedding. So give me whatever drugs you got for me, and I’ll dose myself up. But I’m still going. I’m going, babe,” he insisted when he saw the expression on Evan’s face. “I’m not going to let everyone down. I just… oh sh-shit…” His nostrils twitched, and he pulled out of Evan’s arms enough to turn away from him, ducking into his elbow quickly to sneeze into the crook. “h'ihhTSshhhh'ue! Hih-KTSShhh'ue!” He felt Evan’s arms tighten around him again when he groaned softly in the aftermath, the dizziness coming back in full swing. “I feel like I’m on a carousel that’s gone rogue. Around and around… woof.”

He could feel the sigh that Evan heaved, and when he turned back to bury his face in his shoulder once more, there was the immediate heaviness of Evan’s chin resting lightly on top of his head.

“You’re so lucky I don’t hurt you. If you insist on going, then I’m driving you to the wedding. I might even forgo my plans to sit in the parking lot of the venue in case you pass out and fall on your face again. Now let’s drug you up, before I change my mind and lock you in the bedroom.”