Rich

21 || Liar || Wayward son Lousy Brother || Heartbroken Lover || Vila Changeling Former Durmstrang

[vilarich]

magicaldavey​:

Davey grinned when his words pulled a surprised laugh out of Rich, exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for. Though Davey did suspect that if Rich had dreamed of him at all—which it seemed like he had, just like Davey dreamed of Rich—at least some of them involved Davey naked in his bed. Even if they didn’t involve sex. All the soft moments they’d shared in Rich’s bed Davey had been naked for. Clothes weren’t something they spent a lot of time in at Rich’s apartment. Which had been nice, if not embarrassing for poor Timmy. He’d seemed to have gotten over it, though. Davey let out a soft chuckle at Rich’s answer. His smile softening at Rich’s question. “Sometimes,” he murmured. He’d dreamed about Rich a lot of different ways since the last time they were together. Sometimes naked and cuddling in Rich’s bed, Rich smiling at him in the morning light. Sometimes it was more heated than that. “Other times I’d dream I was naked and you were painting me.” They had plenty of memories of that too; Rich loved painting Davey and Davey loved posing for him, mostly because he liked watching Rich paint and being his model gave Davey the best view of all the ways Rich’s expression would change when he was concentrating. The way he’d get lost in the work but then catch Davey’s eyes and look at him like he was something worth painting. “In my favorite dream,” he continued, his fingers tracing gently over the skin on Rich’s lower back, “You’re wearing a Prides shirt and that Prides hat Jenny got you, and you’re sitting between her and Timmy in those matching hats and you’re all waving at me,” he said with a soft smile that faded just a touch. It was a bittersweet memory. All of his favorite people together at his favorite place, smiling at him and at each other, just a couple months before Davey lost all of it. But not all of it. He was back in Richie’s arm. 

Rich didn’t know if Davey had really dreamed of him naked because humans could lie. But he wanted to believe Davey wouldn’t lie to him now, just like he’d felt certain before everything went terribly wrong that Davey wouldn’t. Even though Davey had clearly missed him, clearly still wanted to be with him, because he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be.  Rich was surprised to learn that Davey had dreamt of him  in any way but terrible ones. He smiled softly at the thought. The smile growing when Davey talked about Richie painting him. “My muse,” he murmured. Davey had always been very patient wit hthe fact that Richie loved painting him. They were some of Richie’s favorite memories of their time together. It had been hard at first to go back to painting because of it. But drawing and painting had always been Rich’s escape even as a kid so he’d been drawn back to it eventually. As soft as those memories where the next one had even more regret tainting it. Jenny. Realistically Richie knew what happened to Jenny wasn’t his fault. He might not have even been able to prevent it. But he still felt responsible for what had been done to her. Riche held Davey a little tighter. It was hard t talk around the lump the memory caused in his throat but he did so anyway.  He chose his words carefully. Wanting to make sure that there was no room for Davey to doubt what he felt. “I remember that day. It was one of the happiest times of my life.” It was important to Richie that Davey know that. That  he knew that everything before their breakup had been real. Richie hadn’t faked any of it. He didn’t want any of Davey’s memories of Jenny that involved him to be tainted with any doubts about his feelings especially.

[vilarich]

magicaldavey​:

Davey smiled against Rich’s lips at that happy noise he made when Davey kissed him. A soft, contented sigh lost against Rich’s lips as Davey felt his fingers curling into his shirt. Wearing a shirt in Rich’s bed was new, not at all their norm, but Rich didn’t seem to mind it. A silent sort of indication that it was okay that Davey wasn’t exactly the same as he’d been the last time they were together. The scars hiding under the shirt were proof of that, but they were also the least of the differences in Davey. There was still a small part of him that worried maybe he was too different. Too damaged from the Veela. Maybe it was selfish of him to show up in Rich’s life again. Only Davey noticed the changes in Rich, too. Not just the physical, though Rich was a little more muscular probably from all the times Davey saw him training with Nik. But Rich also seemed more settled, somehow. Steadier, even though he was apparently involved in something that could save Timmy but might hurt him. Steadier in a way Davey needed now, maybe, and maybe in a way that meant he wouldn’t mind if Davey didn’t wake up happy every morning like he used to. He was happy this morning, though. Mostly. There was a tinge of sadness underneath it; maybe that would always be there, the empty space Jenny left. But with Rich back, the empty space in Davey’s heart was filled halfway back up. A little more, maybe, when Rich spoke, calling him love in a way Davey didn’t think he’d hear again and kissing him again. Davey moved his hand on Rich’s side around to his back, pulling Rich as close as he could get him. “Me too,” he murmured softly at Rich’s whispered words, stealing another soft kiss. “Know how I know it’s not a dream?” He said afterwards, kissing Rich once more then pulling back so he could smile at him. “I betcha would have dreamed me naked.” 

He liked that sigh he felt more than heard. That feeling of Davey being happy here in his arms. It was all he wanted. It didn’t matter that Davey was wearing a shirt. That things weren’t exactly how they were. Rich just wanted the chance to make Davy happy again. Succeed this time. He hoped anyway. There was a slight fear that he might screw it all up again. The same one he felt with Timmy. Things were so good there it was throwing him off kilter a little. Still waiting to do something stupid and piss Timmy off. Only this time he wasn’t giving in to what felt inevitable. It also helped that Timmy knew the truth. Maybe that would help with Davey too. Or maybe Davey would remember that he wasn’t who Davey had thought he was. For now it was enough that Davey was pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. It wasn’t hard to just enjoy their kisses and let himself hope. “Hmm,” he asked when Davey asked him about knowing it’s not a dream. His words surpsirsd Rich enough that he laughed. Given that Davey hadn’t wanted to be naked around him it was maybe something he shouldn’t admit to. Only he couldn’t lie. He also didn’t want to lie to Davey. “It’s no secret I’ve always liked you naked. Particularly naked in my bed. So you may have a point.” Never mind that his dreams of Davey did not involve Davey naked. Except for those awful few of him and Georgie that Rich did not want to think about ever. Because the problem with seeing your ex with someone else, taunting you with their relationship, was that you knew exactly how your ex would look enjoying himself so it wasn’t hard to picture a realistic version of things. “And what about you? Would you have dreamed me naked,” he asked instead of dwelling on things.

[vilarich]

magicaldavey​:

Davey grinned when he got that small smirk from Rich, the very same one he’d been hoping to get with his comment about all the not sleeping they’d done in Rich’s bed. He liked that look. But he also liked that softer look Rich gave him. Davey had seen glimpses of Rich’s softness from the beginning. It was one of the things that drew him in. So he’d been surprised, as he got to know Rich better, to discover that Rich didn’t show that soft part of him to many other people. Just Timmy. It made Davey love that softness even more, knowing that it was something special that Rich chose to let him see. Now, he thought, maybe it was another sign everything really had been real. Not just Veela magic. Rich may know how to put on that sort of facade, but that wasn’t what Davey ever got from him. Davey wasn’t entirely sure why that was, what about him had made Rich decide to let his guard down and let Davey in like that, but it was precious and special and Davey loved him for it. Davey let out a soft, happy noise when Rich kissed his nose again. “Me either,” he answered, leaning up to kiss Rich’s chin. “I can’t believe you’re real,” he kissed Rich on the chin again then scooted up a little bit so he could rub his nose against Rich’s, nuzzling into him. There was so much outside of this room that made everything far from perfect, but right now Davey let himself shut all that out and exist in this perfect warmth, just him and Rich snuggled up in Rich’s bed. The rest of the world could wait. With that in mind, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Rich’s lips. 

Richie’s smile grew at that happy noise Davey made. He chuckled softly when Davey kissed his chin. “I can’t believe you’re really here,’ he answered. Davey nuzzling into him like he always did. Richie had thought about that too. How much he missed the little touches not just the sex stuff. The snuggling and the way Davey seemed to just love being close to him. He loved it too. All things he never thought he’d have again. It didnt’ matter that Davey was wearing a shirt and boxers or that he’d slept in boxers too. Davey was in his arms. Kissing him. Richie made a happy noise against Davey’s lips. His fingers on Davey’s back curled around the shirt he was wearing. “Morning, love,” he whispered softly, lips brushing against Davey’s after the kiss. He couldn’t resist leaning in for another kiss. “If this is a dream I hope I don’t wake up,” he whispered after that kiss ended. At least not till it turned. But his dreams about Davey weren’t like this. Soft and sweet. Davey looking at him like he still loved hm instead of that look of betrayal he’d gotten. It was a look that had stayed with him, haunting him. Seeing Davey smile at him again was like the first day of spring after a long, cold winter. He wanted to bottle it up.

[vilarich]

magicaldavey​:

A soft smile pulled at Davey’s lips when he heard Rich’s voice answer him, sounding about as unsure as Davey was that this was real. And as hopeful as he was, too. Maybe that meant this wasn’t a dream after all. That kiss on his nose certainly felt real. Davey was also pretty sure that whenever he dreamed about Rich, he didn’t question whether it was a dream; he just woke up disappointed. But he was scared to open his eyes, to let himself wake up and feel that disappointment again. Davey didn’t think he could handle that disappointment on top of knowing that Jenny was gone. Then again, if this was a dream, Jenny wouldn’t be gone. And he wouldn’t feel sort from all the running he did the night before. So Davey let his eyes flutter open, blinking in the sunlight coming through Rich’s windows, his own soft smile widening a touch as he was met with the sight of Rich smiling at him. His heart—bruised and broken as it was from everything he’d learned yesterday—beat a little faster, reminding him that it was still there, that it could still function. He smiled again at Rich’s words. “You are too,” he murmured back, almost surprised that this dream didn’t fall apart the moment he spoke. It really was real. “I missed waking up with you,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against Rich’s skin where it sat on his side. “And sleeping with you.” He added, and then, “And not sleeping with you.” He smiled again at that. 

Davey in his bed had always been something special. Even that first morning. Richie just hadn’t realized how special. Not till later. It’s why there were so many drawings and paintings of Davey in bed. It had always been something he wanted to capture. Something that felt so beautiful it should hang on a wall somewhere taking breaths away. His always was. Even more so this morning after so many empty mornings. Richie hadn’t thought he’d ever see this again. So he watched Davey, took it all in. The sleepy softness about him. The way his eyes fluttered open. The sun spilling over his body, adding to the divinity of the sight. Love itself waking up in his bed. He felt a mix of things as Davey spoke. Davey’s thumb against his skin, such a light touch that still had a rush of heat going through him. Richie had never been touched by anyone the way Davey touched him. He’d been deprived of it so long that just that slight touch brought heat. His words brought warmth to Richie’s broken heart. A glimmer of hope that maybe it would be healed. And more heat with that addition of not sleeping. There was also a sadness and guilt tickling at the edges like annoying gnats that wouldn’t go away. It was his fault that Davey had missed this. His fault that he’d missed it too. But Richie did his best to push those away. He didn’t want to ruin this moment with anything. “We did do a lot of not sleeping,” he said with a slight smirk. But it softened. “I missed it all too. Missed you so much.” It was all he could do to stop himself from holding Davey tighter like he was afraid the other might melt away. He was a little but he settled for placing another kiss on Davey’s nose, intentionally this time. “I can’t believe you’re really here, smiling at me.” Something he didn’t thin he’d ever see again.

[magicaldavey]

Jenny was gone. That was the first thought that settled into Davey’s mind as he felt sunlight tickling his eyelids, prodding him awake. Jenny was gone, a victim of the Veela, and Davey couldn’t bring her back. The magnitude of the lies he’d been told the entire time he’d been with the Veela was still hard to process. Lies from people he trusted—and now Davey wasn’t sure whether he trusted them or not. But he was pretty sure trusting them was his only option. The problem, of course, was he didn’t know what he was fighting for now. He couldn’t bring Jenny back. That simple truth hurt more than any of the lies he’d been told. The entire time Jenny had been gone, Davey had clung to a sliver of hope that she was out there somewhere, that he could find her. And that was gone now. 

But then there was movement at his side, a familiar warmth he’d been missing for months, and another memory surfaced. Rich. He was at Rich’s flat. In Rich’s bed. Their arms still wrapped around each other. Davey tightened his arms around Rich and snuggled into him with a soft sigh. This was a dream he’d had plenty of times before he woke up and remembered that Rich was gone. Only Davey knew this time it wasn’t a dream. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a dream, but maybe a small part of him was a little bit afraid to open his eyes and lose Rich too. Davey couldn’t stand that, not again. So instead he kept his eyes closed and whispered in a soft, sleepy voice. “Richie? You’re real, right?” 

[vilarich]

Rich hadn’t had anyone in his bed since Davey. He’d tried a few times to drown himself not just in potions and drugs but also meaningless sex but that did not involve bringing anyone home. So waking up with his arms wrapped around someone and that someone tightening their arms around him, snuggling into him was a feeling he hadn’t had in some time. Except in dreams. He’d dreamed of Davey plenty of times. Usually they turned into nightmares. Some nights he couldn’t escape his mistakes even in sleep. But they never involved Davey’s soft, sleepy voice saying that. His lips curled into a smile. Richie. For so long it was a name that was reserved for Timmy. Rich couldn’t even remember when Davey had started calling him Richie. By that time Davey had already buried himself in Richie’s heart so it wasn’t even noteworthy that he was calling him Richie. It just was. He really had been  in deep with Davey before he even knew it. “I think so. Hope so,” he whispered back sleepily. “Hope you are too.” Without opening his eyes  he placed a soft kiss on the first bit of Davey his lips landed on. Even half asleep he could’t believe that he had Davey n his bed again, in his arms. It was far from perfect but it was Davey so it was also perfect. Richie blinked his eyes open, smiling wider at Davey. There. Real. Had to be. “You’re so beautiful in the morning.”  Davey was beautiful always. He was beautiful and in  Riche’s bed.  Maybe this was a dream. But if it was he wanted to look at Davey before it turned or he woke. Feel happiness for a few moments.

[vilarich]

youwantstubby​:

This was weird. Just being in Rich’s flat—not drunk, not high, in broad daylight—was weird. But it felt even weirder to see the bloke smile like that talking about his boyfriend. About Stubby meeting his boyfriend. Why the hell would he want Stubby to meet the bloke when he’d never even mentioned him before? Not that Stubby could think of a reason Rich would have mentioned the bloke. Just another thing to add to the list of ‘why are you doing this?’ Stubby wondered, for a moment, when Rich said everyone liked the bloke, if they liked him in the same way everyone liked Stubby and Wren. But—no. He was real. People like the bloke because he was real. Either Rich was wrong about how real the bloke was or the bloke was hanging out with very different people from him, but then how the hell had he even met Rich? It was all too much to think on with a million other things racing through Stubby’s head that was still dully aching from sobriety. Even just thinking of what he wanted from his flat was difficult, except he’d surprised himself with the clarity by which he landed on what was really important. Three things in the whole flat. Two, really; the clothes were more necessity. He didn’t care what happened to anything else in there, he realized. So the thought of Rich and Wren finding a way in didn’t bother him, even if part of him questioned how they’d accomplish that with the security guard who would probably show up. Then again they’d probably just pay whomever off, a thought Rich voice. He was right. There had only ever been one security guard who seemed to take looking after Stubby seriously, and he’d been fired for doing it. The bloke telling off his father—to no avail—one of the last clear memories he had before the haze of potions dulled everything again. “You won’t have to worry about him,” Stubby said quietly, and then, “….thanks.” The word was tentative, uncertain, if only because he still wasn’t convinced this was for him. But if whatever Rich was getting out of this was less awful than whatever his father took from him, he probably still offered the bloke his thanks. 

Rich was surprised when Stubby said they wouldn’t have to worry about that one bodyguard. Stubby never seemed to know what was going on or who was around most of the time. Yet he knew that. “Should be easy then.” Not that he and Wren couldn’t make it even with that bloke, but this would be easier. Stubby’s thanks surprised him too. Had he ever heard the bloke say that? “Welcome.” Rich hesitated for a moment. Being real meant being vulnerable and Rich was still working on doing that. His instinct, or conditioning, he wasn’t sure which, was to avoid that at all costs. Made doing the opposite difficult. “I just wanna say I’m glad you’re trying, Stubbs. I know it’s not easy. But Wren and I wanna help, however we can. And I think you’ll find it’s worth it. I have.” Rich had hit a different rock bottom than Stubby. But it had been rock bottom all the same. Breaking up with Davey. Spiraling out of control. Ruining Davey’s life. Nearly ruining Timmy’s. Being involved with a rebellion didn’t really seem like it should be the foundation for building his life back up. But it weirdly was. It gave him a purpose for once. Something he wanted to fight for, a real chance for Timmy to live his own life. Maybe even some justice for Davey and his family. Despite that the transition from out of control party bloke to whatever he could call himself now was not easy. Sometimes it still felt hard. But the further he got from all those potions and whatever else he could drown himself in the clearer he felt. Rich could see now that his first relationship with Davey had sort of planted the seeds to who he was now. He’d opened himself up to Davey in ways he never had. Maybe there was even something to his friendship with Beck. The older Vila was wrong about a lot of things, shit takes on anything related to the Queen really, but Rich wasn’t sure he’d have been able to open himself up with Davey if not for that friendship. Which made it all the more sad that it was one that wouldn’t last his picking himself up. Inevitable though, probably, after all Beck was more of a father figure than mate and Rich had shit luck with those. But maybe Stubby’s friendship, if you could call what they had a friendship, was one that might last. “Anyway if there’s anything else that comes up that you need just let me know,” he added still not entirely comfortable leaving things on a vulnerable note.

[vilarich]

youwantstubby​:

Rich’s laughter was surprising, if only because Stubby was pretty sure he’d never heard a real laugh from the other, softer, more natural than when they were both wasted, throwing their heads back so everyone else could see what a great time they were having, performing rather than feeling. More surprising was Rich’s answer. “Boyfriend?” Stubby asked softly. He hadn’t known Rich had a boyfriend. Vaguely he wondered if that was a new development or an old one. Either one felt just as possible, a reminder of how little he knew about Rich. And yet here he was, in Rich’s flat, wearing Rich’s—or Rich’s boyfriend’s?–clothes, trusting him not to owl Stubby’s father and tell him where he was in exchange for money or fame or potions. Because he had no other choice. So Stubby was surprised when Rich added on more detail about the bloke, smiling as he said so. A baseball player. That was another surprise. Less surprising was that Rich wouldn’t have had t-shirts otherwise. Lucky for Stubby, then. He felt like he should probably say something more, but all he could manage was a slight nod. It was a relief when Rich spoke again, though Stubby was surprised yet again to hear him repeating his offer from before. This time, at least, Stubby had a slightly clearer idea of what he wanted. “Thanks. Um. Some clothes would be good. Everything from my bottom dresser drawer.” That was where Stubby stashed all the clothes that were not ostentatious or uncomfortable enough to fit the Stubby Boardman brand. “And uh…there’s some notebooks. On a shelf in my room. Or….” He frowned. “Some were out. Before I left….” Were they still spread out the way they had been when he’d been writing before his dad showed up? Probably. And wherever they were, Stubby just knew he didn’t want his dad to have them. Even if Rich proved untrustworthy and did something with the bits of music in the notebooks, it was better than his father doing something with them. “And the acoustic guitar. Um. If you can….” he added, feeling awkward, shoving his hands into the front pocket of the hooded sweatshirt and frowning as he realized something else. “I don’t actually think I have a key…” Which clearly his parents hadn’t thought about when they’d send him nothing and then not showed up to get him today. Usually the security had that, but clearly whomever had been sent to fetch him hadn’t been in a rush to show up to the hospital. Which had worked out well for Stubby, at least so far. 

Rich’s smile grew. It felt good to be able to use the present tense about Davey. “Yeah, boyfriend. Maybe you can meet sometime, you’d like him. Everyone does. There’s just something about him that makes people like him. He’s… real.” Rich didn’t know how else to put it. Davey was the realest person he’d ever met. Genuine. It felt like that was what drew people to him. Aside from the fact that he’d been a baseball player and the reason Rich had t-shirts and sweats, he wasn’t really sure what else to say about Davey. Him being a genuine person summed it up. And it felt good to talk about Davey. To think about introducing him to people. But right now there was a more immediate need. Stubby needed his own things. He listened to what Stubby listed and where things were located. Seemed like a good thing that Stubby wanted his guitar. Though the fact that the bloke didn’t even have a key to his flat yet there wasn’t anyone waiting on him at the hospital was trash. Not surprising though. Rich wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Stubby with things. Money, id, keys. None of that. There was always someone with him with anything he might need. And lots f things he didn’t need. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Wren and I will find a way in,” he reassured Stubby. Getting in and out wasn’t something he was concerned with. He and Wren had ways Stubby didn’t know. “Worse case we’ll just pay someone. I can only think of one bloke on your team that might be trouble.” Not that they’d need to worry about security guards but Stubby’s had always been shit. Letting people backstage, into parties, even ones at Stubby’s flat, that shouldn’t be for gold. “But don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone where you are or say anything that might give it away.” Preferably they would’t even have to talk to anyone but Wren wanted to try and reassure Stubby that they would’t sell him out. The least he deserved was a few days away from all that shit to figure things out for himself.

[youwantstubby]

Stubby had only been in Rich’s flat once before, and it was the night he was pretty sure now Rich and Wren had tricked him into coming back to Rich’s place and stolen his potions. Stubby didn’t remember much of that night. And the morning after he’d been too fixated on getting more potions—and the fact that Rich stole his—to pay attention to his surroundings. He wasn’t exactly surprised by the sparse decoration in the place. More surprising, really, was the decoration that was there. The pictures all featured the same three people. Stubby was pretty sure one was the younger Marchbanks kid, but the other two were entirely unfamiliar. 

He hadn’t said much as Rich led him to his closet and let Stubby pick out a pair of very nice sweatpants and a t-shirt. Though he had wondered about all the Pride of Portree stuff. Rich had definitely never seemed like a sports fan. More likely he was a fan of the players. But Stubby also clearly didn’t know the bloke well. He was glad Hestia had come along on this stop. While he’d decided he didn’t have any choice but to trust the odd crew that had shown up to collect him from St. Mungo’s, he also figured Hestia was the least likely to screw him over, even if she did have ulterior motives. Not that she could do much to fight of Rich and Wren if it came to that, but her presence was still a comfort. Still, Stubby didn’t want to hang around Rich’s flat longer than necessary, so he changed quickly. It took all his willpower not to search Rich’s drawers for a potion. There were probably none in there. Even if there were, they would kill him. Would one really kill him? There was no such thing as one for him, that was what the healers kept saying in rehab. Stubby gripped the edge of Rich’s counter and looked in the mirror as he struggled with himself. He looked different, in a baseball team-branded hooded sweatshirt, his hair ungelled, no stars dancing in his eyes to obstruct his own appearance. There was no pop star looking back at him. Just a bloke. Tired, pale, scared, trying not to fall apart. 

He took a breath, stepped back, and then stepped out of Rich’s bathroom, equal parts proud and disgusted with himself for how hard it was to resist the urge just to open Rich’s drawers. He looked at Rich, feeling weirdly vulnerable, even more so than before. There were no more flashy clothes or hair gel to hide behind. Just him. There was a lot he could have said. A lot he should have said, probably. Questions to be asked, like why are you here and what do you really want from me? Instead he just said, “I never took you for a baseball fanatic.”

[vilarich]

The last time Stubby had been at his place things had ended very badly. Rich was nervous they might this time as well. It felt weird not only having Stubby here again, a subdued and sober Stubby, but also the knitter, who Stubby apparently did know. Well it sounded like. It was still a huge surprise. As was the fact that Stubby’s name was Stanley. How pathetic was it that one of the people who were the closest thing to friends Rich had for so long he hadn’t even known their actually name? Because he wasn’t sure he could qualify Stubby as a friend. Wren was now. Maybe even that bird of his, Ebony. Maybe Juni too. Beck was feeling less of a friend these days. Stubby felt like an even bigger question mark than anyone. Whatever Stubby was, whoever he was, Rich was glad he was able to help the bloke some. Even if he was still feeling unsure of himself in this whole situation. Somehow the person in charge, making the plans. That was not someone Rich ever thought he’d be. He hoped he didn’t fuck it up.

At least he had something to offer Stubby. Even if it was just sweats and a t-shirt. Rich was actually sort of surprised that was what Stubby went for. But it was the least rock star look his closet had to offer so maybe it shouldn’t have been. He felt nervous as he waited for Stubby to change. Rich hadn’t expected they’d be coming back here. While he hadn’t used a potion in months he worried that maybe there was something in his bathroom that might be too much of a temptation. Something he had missed or something he just didn’t think of. So it was a relief when the other bloke came out looking like he hadn’t just downed whatever shit he could find. Though also weird to see Stubby looking normal but also really fragile. He wondered if he should say something. Wondered what that something should be. Stubby spoke first. Rich found himself laughing. “I’m not,” he admitted. “It’s um…my boyfriend.” He could feel his smile growing at the word boyfriend. Just the simple fact that he could call Davey that again was nothing short of a miracle it felt like. Though it still felt so new that it made him nervous talking about it. Like he might jinx it. Except he wasn’t a superstitious bloke so more like he might fuck it up again. Or it would all end up being some Veela trick and the broom would be pulled out from under him at some point. “He was a player. You’ve got him to thank for the clothes cause I was never much of a t-shirt bloke. Glad you found something.” Despite having to use the past tense Rich managed not to dwell on all the ways Veela, including himself, had ruined Davey’s life. Instead staying focused on Stubby, though the smile stayed a little bigger than it would have thanks to the mention of Davey.  “Like I said at the hospital, Wren and I can swing by your place and pick up anything you need or want. Or go to the store. It’s fucked they didn’t even bring you a bag.”

[vilarich]

youwantstubby​:

Of course going home wouldn’t be good, but it was still a blow to hear it out loud. Stubby’s flat was the only thing that felt like his—but then it really wasn’t, was it? It was his father’s as much as everything else was. Maybe going someplace entirely different would be better. Stubby couldn’t help thinking wistfully of those summers at that beach house, of walking through the sand away from crowds of people who all knew his name, of sitting by the ocean and writing music to the sound of the waves. It felt like a foolish, silly thought, and he almost regretted even asking before Hestia’s face lit up at the mention of the place. It was still there. And it was empty. And he could stay there. For the first time this plan was actually starting to sound something close to good, rather than just better than going back to his father. Stubby wasn’t sure about Hestia staying there with him. Or Rich or Wren, for that matter. Though he also wasn’t sure about staying by himself. It sounded sort of nice. But Stubby couldn’t remember the last time he was completely alone. What if it was too much? What if he decided to have a drink, or a potion? Stubby tried to focus on the last thing Hestia said. No fans. Now that he was sure sounded nice. Rich’s offer surprised him, or rather the fact that Rich was still actually being helpful, and Wren was chiming in his agreement and the offer to go shopping for him too. This all still felt like a lot. Too much to process beyond just agreeing to go to Hestia’s beach house, and even that felt like too much. A lump settled in his throat, and he managed to voice a soft, “….Thanks,” to all of them. It didn’t feel like enough. But he was also confused about why they were all offering all this. About when the other shoe would fall and he’d realize there’d been strings attached the whole time, just like with his father. At least with his father he knew what to expect. Now Stubby was agreeing to walk into the unknown just for the slight chance at something better. Was it really worth it? He considered the alternative. Going back to his flat. Waiting for his father to show up and tell him what Stubby Boardman was expected to do next. More of his music turned into bubblebum trash. More potions. More getting picked up from rehab, only if he said no today, odds seemed good there’d be no one there for him next time. “I don’t…I’m not sure what I want.” He said in answer to Hestia and Rich’s comments. “Can we just get out of here?” Maybe away from these white walls, maybe out of these clothes, he might be able to better decide what he wanted just in the short term. The long term felt too heavy to even begin to contemplate now. 

Rich felt for Stubby. Picking yourself up wasn’t easy. And Stubby was picking himself up from about as low as a person could go, it felt like. Trusting wasn’t easy either. Rich knew a lot about how hard that was when you’d been betrayed by the people everyone said you could trust the most. His parents, the real ones wherever they were, had ditched him and clearly wanted nothing to do with him now that he was older and knew about his Vila-ness. The Minster was a liar who held his sons to a standard that even he couldn’t keep without extra help. Not to mention the fact that he was so desperate for power he’d gotten into bed with the Vila and clearly not known the fine print. While the Minster’s wife hadn’t even noticed her son was switched. Rich had seen enough babies to know they did not all look exactly alike. Not to mention all the times she sat by while her husband bullied their sons, ridiculed their choices, and forced them into rolls they couldn’t fill. Finding out your parents were arseholes was the quickest way to trust issues in Rich’s opinion. And Stubby’s were clearly arseholes. Stubby not knowing he was a Vila and couldn’t lie meant he couldn’t just tell the other that it was okay, he could trust them. He’d have to let Stubby figure that out on his own. Which was a shame because he was sure the bloke was wondering if he was going from one shit show to another right now. At least this bird had turned out to be someone Stubby actually knew instead of just some crazy. Though Rich was still wrapping his mind around Stubby hanging out at the beach with a knitter who threatened people with kicks of all fucking things. Mystifying. He was relieved when Stubby seemed to decide that the unknown was better than the shit he knew. Now they just had to hope it actually turned out better for Stubby. Given that he wasn’t sure how the breaking contract thing would go, it was hard to say for sure. But it had to be better. “We can do that,” he answered before the knitter had a chance. “This beach house you two were talking about or do you wanna stop by my place and change. I think my clothes will fit ya. Doubt anything beachy, but I’m sure something will suit ya.” He hadn’t been to the beach in years but he at least had clothes that were a hell of a lot more casual than the outfit Stubby was currently wearing. He’d seen pictures of Stubby’s last concert in the tabloids and was certain that was the same exact outfit. Especially because the bloke had nothing with him, no bag or even just a change of clothes clutched in his hands.

[vilarich]

youwantstubby​:

Stubby was surprised when Hestia suddenly pulled him into a hug, but maybe he shouldn’t have been. She was, after all, the sort of person who seemed to think a hug could fix anything. But when was the last time she’d actually hugged him? When was the last time anyone hugged him, other than some fan who ran up to him in the street and got past one of his bodyguards? Had she ever hugged him on those nights he showed up too wasted to remember? Stubby wasn’t sure. All he did know was that his body seemed to have forgotten how to respond. He stood there, stiff and surprised by the gesture until several moments too late he remembered how to mechanically lift an arm and place it hesitantly on her back. And then those words whispered in his hear. We can find out together. Stubby’s other arm worked its way around Hestia’s back and he held her a little tighter. Why? Why did she care? Enough to offer her family’s money, even. Stubby knew her family had far more wealth than they let on; it was one of the reasons—more like the main reason—Stubby’s father had befriended Mr. Jones, though Sanford had always been good at making sure the people he befriended for their money were unaware of the fact. But why on earth would her parents spend their money on him? They were in business with Stubby’s father, after all. For all he knew they benefitted tangentially from Stubby Boardman, if only because it meant more money for his father to put into joint business ventures with the Joneses. 

Before he could voice any of that, though, Rich was surprisingly speaking up again. Offering his place? That one was a surprise. Why? Stubby let go of Hestia and turned to listen. Drag them through the mud until they have to let you go. …Could Stubby do that? He was pretty sure there was shit in the contracts about that. What happened if he broke them? Azkaban? Or —what, he lost all the money he already didn’t have? What if his parents tried to imperius him to get him back in line? Would that really be any different than how things were now? But maybe Rich had a choice. Not trying that meant more of this. More hospital rooms. More pivoting. His father never letting go. And there was something about hearing it from Rich that made the words feel less like some candy-coated wishful thinking pipe dream. Stubby had, to some degree, noticed the change in Rich. At some point he’d fallen as far as Stubby, a constant presence on nights out, both of them trying to drown something out. They never talked about what, but there was a mutual understanding there. Both with famous names. Both with massive, crushing expectations from horrible fathers. And then at some point that had stopped for Rich. Had ended with Rich taking Stubby’s potions, trying to save him from himself. Stubby had been pissed at the time; another person trying to control him, unable to see past the burning need for potions he’d felt at the time. He still wanted them. But that was muffled by the detox and the potions from the healers. 

What changed for Rich? The Minister’s son, still seemingly under the man’s thumb. But he wasn’t drowning anymore. Did he find a way out? “….I guess things can’t get worse,” he said finally, his voice soft, tentative, still not fully convinced. Even if his parents could be fought—did Stubby have what it took to do that, when he was terrified of what would even be left of him on the other side? Assuming he even got there. He looked from Rich back to Hestia. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to fight his parents. But he also wasn’t sure he had it in him to fight Rich and Wren and Hestia, all here urging him to try something, anything. What was in it for them? Was it really nothing? Was it really just him? Or was he missing something? Did it matter, if it got him away from his father? His shoulders slumped, resigned, and he let out a quiet sigh. “What do I do now?”

Rich wasn’t sure what to expect from Stubby. Trying was scary. Especially when you were in as deep as Stubby was. Because trying meant failing. And failing was a lot easier when it just happened to you when you did nothing as opposed to when you were actually trying to do something. Rich knew because he’d had both kinds of failure. He was glad when it seemed like Stubby was wiling to try. Or at least not wanting to fight them on it anymore. What Rich wasn’t prepared for was both Stubby and the bird looking at him like he had a plan. He did not. It would have been good to walk in with a plan. But he’d had no idea if Stubby would even want to talk to him. A plan seemed too far ahead of himself. Only now here he was with no plan and people wanting a plan. At least the first step seemed easy enough. “Guess you should decide where you wanna go. Hide out for a little bit, figure out what you want to do.” Because Stubby really should be the one calling the shots on his life. But he’d also just gotten out of rehab and likely needed some time to figure it all out. Since he was around people like the Minister for most of his life he also knew a third step Stubby would need to do. “You’ll need a lawyer too. They’ll be able to figure out if there’s any way out of your contract or what’ll happen if you break it. Clearly you shouldn’t stick to it but it can’t hurt to know the details of your contract.” After all, his dad was also his manager, things weren’t as cut and dry as they had been for Timmy. “Right now though, all you gotta do is decide where it is you’re gonna lay low at.”

[vilarich]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

youwantstubby​:

You’re not a thing. Wasn’t he? Did it matter, when his parents could make him do whatever they wanted? There had been a time when Stubby also thought about getting away. But to where? And how? How far would he have to run to escape their clutches? And by the time he’d started thinking about that, he’d already long lost sight of who he even was without Stubby Boardman. Or who he even wanted to be. Hiding out with the Jones’s wouldn’t change anything, surprising as it was that she was so adamant about trying to help him get out. And it wasn’t just Hestia.

Stubby wasn’t sure whether he was more surprised that Rich and Wren had actually stuck around, or that Rich—who’d also been listening in, apparently, here for the free Stubby show—stepped up and said something that suggested maybe he wasn’t just here for the free Stubby show. And then there was Wren, stepping up next to Rich, looking uncharacteristically nervous, unsure of himself to the point Stubby almost wondered if it was someone on polyjuice. 

“You’re not alone, Stubbs,” Wren said, remembering the conversation he’d had with Ebony. “We’re all here for you. Not for you name, or your money, or any of that shit,” he added, because that was what he’d always thought. And it had been the same for Stubby. They’d both known what they were getting from the other—but that wasn’t why Wren and Rich were here today. They were done with that. “We can get all that shit on our own.” That would sound pretentious, maybe, to someone else, and maybe it was, but the point was they didn’t need to use Stubby like so many other people did. So maybe that would help Stubby believe them when Wren added, “We’re here for you.”  

Stubby looked between Rich and Wren and Hestia, three earnest faces looking at him like they all believed this was something he could do. His choice. And somewhere in the back of his mind was the glimmer of a realization that there was nothing in this for them, in his abandoning Stubby Boardman. Quite the opposite, in fact. Unless there was some other angle, one he just couldn’t see yet. Wasn’t there always an angle? How was Stubby any better off trying to fight the man who’d proven he valued Stubby Boardman over his son’s own life? He shook his head. “They’d find me at your place.” It would be one of the first places they looked, most likely, if Stubby’s dad thought Hestia was enough of a problem to try to cut her out of the picture. “You don’t get it. I’m Stubby Boardman. I can’t just—drop off the grid to get away from them.” And dropping off the grid was the only way to get away from them, Stubby had thought about it before he decided drowning everything out with potions was the best path forwards. “It takes money to do that.” Especially for someone as famous as him. He’d end up chained up in some crazy bird’s basement if he tried to go anonymous. “And they have it all. They have everything. They have my bloody name!” Again hopelessness crept into his voice. Why was he even here? What was he staying sober for?

“And–” His eyes found Hestia’s, and his voice was small as he added on, “I don’t know who I am without it.” 

Hestia was surprised, and pleased, to find that perhaps she had been wrong about those two. They did seem to care about Stanley after all. But sadly Stanley still seemed to think there was no choice in it for him. That there was nothing else for him. Hestia wasn’t sure if it was his words or the way he said them that made her heart feel like it was breaking all over again when he looked at her and said he didn’t know who he was without it. She didn’t hesitate or say anything, she just wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Wishing with al her might that a hug could be as powerful as it had felt when she was little. Back then it had seemed a hug could solve anything. But she knew that wasn’t the case now. Still hugs were a special magic all their own. Hopefully Stanley was feeling it. “We can find out together,” she whispered in his ear. Hestia didn’t believe that the Stanley she knew was all gone. Or that the Stubby Boardman these blokes knew was all that he was. But he had always been right that he wasn’t the same as he was before, Hestia knew now that going through something terrible did change parts of you even when you tried so hard not to be changed by it. Whoever Stanley was now without all the things his parents owned, or Stanley thought they owned, she was sure he deserved just as much love and care as the Stanley she’d grown up with did. “And my parents have plenty of money, they’d help you,” she added because money simply wasn’t an issue. Hestia had a feeling her parents had more money than Stanley’s but she didn’t add that. Her parents never made a show of money the way Stanley’s had. They lived in a large country estate, but it was one that had been in the Jones family for so long that no one remembered exactly how long. It was well and truly loved too, a proper warm and cozy home not some cold stately estate. Easy to forget the owners were rich. Even the way her parents were, how they dressed, how they acted, her mum cooking, her dad gardening, made it easy to forget. But Hestia was certain they had enough money to help Stanley.

Rich clapped Wren on the shoulder as the bird hugged Stubby. He knew it wasn’t easy being real for Wren, but the younger bloke was doing great. Maybe this might work. Stubby hadn’t told him and Wren to leave so that felt like a good sign. So Rich spoke up again, despite feeling bad for interrupting the hug. “You can stay at mine if you want,” he offered. Truthfully Rich wasn’t sure how he’d hide a whole rockstar from the Minister but he’d hid not being the Minister’s kid from him so easy. “And maybe dropping off the grid isn’t the way to do it. I’m not suggesting you do anything right away, after all you have to plan it out. But maybe you can use the press against them. Find some not as fucked as the other’s reporter to interview you and get your fans on your side. If nothing else drag the fuckers through the mud till they have to let you go.” It was very scorched earth, but then again Rich was in a rebellion trying to bring down two fucking queens, scorched earth seemed to be a decent option. And truthfully he wasn’t sure he could see Stubby hiding out like Timmy had. Even if he attempted it, there were too many fucked up fans for that to be too successful. He was fairly sure that one Hobgoblin that ditched the band was dead since he’d managed to pull it off. A grim thought he didn’t need to dwell on. “The point is, you don’t have to go back to it. Whatever you choose to do, we’ll back you. And it is your choice. But you and I know exactly what’ll happen if you let your dad keep calling the shots. There’s a reason you do potions and it’s not cause it’s bloody fun. You passed that point a long time ago, Stubbs.” Rich knew because he’d lived it, often times right beside Stubby. Only it was the queen and the Minister calling shots for him. Truthfully if there hadn’t been a glimmer of a chance to get Timmy away from the Vila that rested on Rich being sober there was a good chance he’d still be falling down that path. Because it was hell falling in line and being the good son. “It’s time to try something new, don’t you think,” he added instead of dwelling on how miserable he still felt at times.

[blackhairpinkercheeks]

youwantstubby​:

If it weren’t so surprising to see the anger on Hestia’s face—Stubby was pretty sure he’d never seen her look like that before—it might have been almost funny to see her like that, thoroughly pissed off in her yellow sweater. As it was it just felt extra depressing, somehow, that his parents had found a way to be so awful that sweet Hestia Jones was angry. Almost as surprising as the outburst was the way she composed herself so quickly afterwards—turning the focus back to Stubby. And talking like there were people who cared about him—other than her, and he still questioned that one—and like he had a choice. You don’t have to do what they say anymore. Stubby couldn’t help but let out a short, bitter laugh at that one. “Says who, Jonesey? Says you?” The words were not intended to be cruel; they were not meant as anything but the truth. “You think I haven’t thought about saying no? About trying to get away? They have everything.” His name, his money, even his hairstyle—they owned it all. “Even if someone wanted to help me—” Which Stubby didn’t believe, maybe other than Hestia. Whatever Rich and Wren were doing here didn’t feel like the kind of thing that went as far as what Hestia was suggesting, “There’s nothing to do. This is it, Jonesy,” he said, his voice breaking as he gestured helplessly to the hospital waiting room. This was who he was. Stubby Boardman, Stanley Bishop, maybe it didn’t matter anymore. This was all that was left of him. He’d learned a long time ago that just giving in was easier. Even if that had landed him here. What other choice did he have, really? He’d just keep landing back here until his dad gave up on Stubby Boardman, or…. Well. 

Hestia Jones had never looked like a person with a lot of courage, it had always been a surprise to the bullies at school when she stood up for someone. But Hestia always stood up for people. She wasn’t the type to turn a blind eye. Not even with Stanley. She’d always thought it was his idea. That he wanted to be Stubby Boardman. That he liked partying. That just because his parents weren’t her idea of good ones it didn’t mean they were terrible ones. Stanley never told her differently. He talked sometimes in riddles she didn’t understand but he was often so strung up on potions and liquor when he did that she thought maybe he didn’t understand what he was saying either. Every time he’d tell her she didn’t understand she’d ask him to explain and he wouldn’t. It was clear he was unhappy. But what she hadn’t realized till his letters was that he wasn’t doing all of the things he was doing in an effort to be happy. There was pressure to do it. She just hadn’t realized till now that the pressure was coming directly from his parents, not indirectly, which was bad enough. This felt the same as seeing someone being bullied. She wouldn’t stand for it! Stanley might not think she could do anything, and maybe she couldn’t. But she wasn’t going to just do nothing. She had to try. “This isn’t it,” she told him determinedly. “It doesn’t have to be. Maybe they do have everything but you’re not a thing. You’re a person! It’s time to stop thinking about saying no or getting away and start doing it. With help. You can stay at my flat or my parents’s house. Once you’ve decided what you want to do, we can help you. You’re an adult, you’re parents can just go….they can go kiss a dementor for all I care!” That was harsh, very harsh, but she was still extremely angry at them. “Please Stanley,” she added softly, “let us help you.” 

[vilarich]

Rich had been watching the goings on between Stubby and this bird, moving between being surprised he actually knew her, to feeling a bit like he was watching something he shouldn’t. There were way too many uncomfortable parallels between Timmy trying to help him at his lowest and this bird trying to get through to Stubby. Even some parallels between Timmy feeling stuck and Stubby feeling the same.  It was easier to focus on other things. Like how he’d heard Jonesy mentioned once or twice and had no idea this bird was that person. Or that Stubby’s name was Stanley. He wondered if Bishop was his actual last name instead of Boardman. It had come out at some point that Stubby’s manager was his dad but Rich had thought maybe it was a step dad thanks to the different last names. But nope, another example of an actual father being a complete piece of shit. Fuck all of them. His scoff at this bird’s insistence that parents cared for their kids was the only thing he was going to say. Instead thinking it was better to let them have their talk. But when Stubby said this was it sounding so helpless, Rich couldn’t take it. He’d felt that helplessness. Still did sometimes late at night when he worried that Juni and that Veela prince wouldn’t be able to pull this off. But while he was well and truly stuck, maybe Stubby wasn’t. Maybe he could be like Timmy and be free. It was Timmy that made him step forward and speak up. “Maybe she’s right, Stubs. Maybe this doesn’t have to be it. I think you owe it to yourself to try. Sticking it to your parents would be great. But beyond that, you deserve more than this. Things have already gotten just about as bad as they can get, take the chance.” Rich was still not sure Stubby even wanted to talk to him but he had to say something.

[blackhairpinkercheeks]

veelawren​:

This time Wren actually was offended when she clarified that she recognized Rich and not him. Rich! Sure Rich was the replacement Minister’s son, but Wren was Wren! Wizards, couldn’t count on them to know who was really important. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the thought that Ebony would not approve if he said what he’d just thought out loud. Which did not help Wren’s irritation, it just added another pang of something uncomfortably close to guilt or remorse and it was all frustratingly unpleasant. “I guess that’s not surprising, seeing as you’re all…” Yellow, was the word that came to mind, but he just let the words trail off. Really what he’d said was only an insult if you valued being at the best parties or keeping track of who was at the best parties. Which clearly she didn’t, but she should! This was why he didn’t try! Except the fact that he and Rich—and this girl, maybe, if she wasn’t a psycho fan—were the only people here for Stubby right now made it hard to regret trying too much. Which was also annoying. Especially with the fun added knowledge that Stubby might not even want them to be here trying. 

Before Wren could get too far down that rabbit hole, though, the bird was speaking again, like she actually thought the thing about the autographs was some hypothetical and not about her. Was she daft? She seemed it, given her surprise at what crazy fans would do. “Are you kidding? Those fans are crazy, this wouldn’t be the first time one sneaked into a place she didn’t belong.” Once again Wren’s confusion was genuine; did she really not think that, or was she just playing dumb here? Maybe she really did think that, because it was sort of hard to doubt her surprise when she finally caught onto what Wren had been getting at. About time. Except there she went insulting him again! Why would she be checking up on them if she was a crazy fan? “Uh, maybe to get rid of us so you can corner Stubby?” He pointed out. Only the fact she seemed that confused about that as an option had Wren wondering if she wasn’t a crazy fan. But then who the hell was she? Wren was pretty sure Stubby didn’t have any other family. Some distant cousin, maybe?

The apology took Wren by surprise. There wasn’t really much that Wren could say about the Stubby not having party friends he could count on thing. That had pretty much been true, up until recently. But the point was now they were here for good reasons. And apparently so was she. Except she was also back to threatening them, which really felt like being threatened by a puppy. “…Okay,” Wren said, not at all sure what to do with all that. Or any of this. This whole thing was weird enough without some random knitting bird here accusing them of shit. “Who are you, anyways?”

You’re all…. All what? Nice? Hestia hadn’t been very nice to either of them so probably not that. But for the life of her she couldn’t come up with anything to fit there. Maybe he hadn’t been able to either and that’s why he trailed off. Occasionally Hestia had thoughts she lost mid-way. Maybe that happened to him. Seemed reasonable. The fan thing, however, did not. Were his fans really like that? She knew the very few times she’d been to any of his shows, back in the early days of the Hobgoblins, they’d been enthusiastic but she hadn’t realized they were rude. Rude seemed a much nicer thing to say about strangers than crazy. Though if they would really sneak into a hospital she could understand the sentiment she supposed. “I don’t understand why anyone would do that,” she replied honestly. It did explain the bodyguards. She had thought they were there because Stanely had gotten tired of being grabbed at, which seemed terrible enough on it’s own. Sneaking into places, she really thought that was Witch Weekly nonsense. This bloke clearly thought it wasn’t. Hestia didn’t know if that was from experience or not. “Hmm, I guess that makes sense. Though it’s very rude. I hope he hasn’t been cornered on his own anywhere.” Poor Stanley. This rock star business was even more bizarre and terrible the more she heard about it. It made her wonder what other stuff Witch Weekly had gotten right about his fans if they really were the sort of sneak into places. And she was left wondering if she’d gotten something wrong about these two blokes.

“Oh goodness, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? How terrifically rude of me. I’m Hestia Jones. Friend, not fan.” She smiled over at the two blokes she still wasn’t certain if she trusted them to have Stanley’s best interest in mind or not. “Wait, that sounds rude. I do like his music. The Hobgoblin stuff as well. But we were friends before,” she added quickly. Hestia would never want to suggest she wasn’t a fan of Stanley’s music. He had always been talented, way before Stubby Boardman and the Hobgoblins.

[vilarich]

Rich had shrunk back, carefully so it went unnoticed, when it seemed like this bird might know who he was. Hopefully she didn’t remember where she’d seen him before, he didn’t want to deal with having to be the Minister’s son right now. But he’d followed the conversation, even smirking when Wren said she was all before trailing off. He had a few ideas what Wren might have been thinking of. Watched with amused confusion when it seemed as if the pair of them were having two separate conversations. He didn’t understand how she hadn’t caught on that Wren was accusing her of being a psycho fan but she apparently hadn’t. And then there was that threat again. Did she think she sounded intimidating? She looked like the sort of person who cried if they stepped on a snail. Her name though was interesting. Only because he thought it almost rang a bell, more like brushed lightly against it. “Jones?” She nodded as she answered with a cheery yes. Why did that sound familiar? Hmm… “Never heard of you,” Rich settled on, deciding he must have heard it somewhere else. It wasn’t an odd name. She, or a family member, probably worked at the Ministry or something. She didn’t seem too upset hearing that Stubby hadn’t mentioned her. Or surprised at all. Maybe they’d gone to school together. Wren went there too but this bird did not seem the type that either Stubby or Wren would know. At least if she was some lying crazy it’d be easy to leave her sleeping in a chair without making a scene. Which was feeling like a real possibility.

[vilarich]

veelawren​:

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

Hestia had a feeling they were talking about her. It felt paranoid. Sort of like when she worried she was being followed as she walked through the market. Or that the bloke she’d passed on the way to her building was actually watching her. But, like both of those things, it also felt probable. There was a good chance she was followed when she went out or that her building was being watched. Just like there was a good chance they were talking about her. Funnily enough, just like when she thought she was being watched, it gave her courage. Only instead of continuing on her day pretending like she wasn’t bothered, today it was courage to get up and talk to the pair of them. “Pardon me,” she started politely. Manners mattered. “I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re here for Stubby. Are you mates? It’s just you don’t really look like bodyguards. His are always very strong looking and you two…well I’m assuming you’re friends of his.” From the looks of them party friends but Hestia didn’t say that. “I just wanted to say that I think it’s very nice of you to come and see him. Assuming that’s all you’ve come for. After all it would be rather terrible to pick someone up from rehab just to take him out to party. Absolutely horrid actually. Obviously, I don’t know either one of you, though you look vaguely familiar,” she told the older one. “Anyway, my point is if you don’t have the best of intentions towards Stubby you should go now. If something else were to happen to him and I found out you were involved in any way… well I can be positively unpleasant if I need to be. Something you’ll be smart to avoid finding out,” she finished sounding almost as stern as Professor McGonagall. “Good day!” With that she turned and went back to her seat. Hestia felt better for having warned them. She didn’t enjoy trying to intimidate people — this was the first time she’d ever attempted it and no, she did not enjoy it at all. But if it made them think before doing something that could put Stanley in harm’s way it was worth it.

Wren snickered at Rich’s comments about the bird. “Lucky Stubby’s on his way out,” he added with a smirk that he quickly schooled off his face as the bird got up and…oh, she was coming toward them. Okay. This felt normal, actually. Of course this random bird wanted to talk to the pair of them. Wren flashed his most charming smile, and it was only years of practice that kept that smile in place when she mentioned Stubby. So that’s what she was here for. Wren was instantly suspicious. And then confused when she started talking about Stubby’s bodyguards. Should he have been offended by her saying they didn’t look like bodyguards? Maybe he should have been, but frankly Wren’s ego was big enough that it would take more than some random bird suggesting he didn’t look tough to offend him. Especially considering ‘tough’ or ‘could be a bodyguard’ were never descriptions he’d tried for. And most of Stubby’s bodyguards were sorely lacking in fashion sense. Frankly Wren would be more offended if she did think he was a bodyguard. Wren was far too polished for that sort of physical labor. His brows pulled together as she went on, basically implying that they were here to take Stubby to a party. From rehab. Seriously? And who the hell was she? Just because she didn’t look like a typical Stubby Boardman fan didn’t mean that was out of the question. Anyways if she was a fan she was one of the crazies anyways, waiting out here for him and trying to scare his actual friends off. Or the closest thing Stubby had to actual friends, probably. Unless he’d been hiding one somewhere, but if he was it was doubtful it was some bird who liked to knit and wore uglier sweaters than Ebony did. Well—equally ugly, Ebony owned some remarkably ugly sweaters. And was she threatening them now? Were they supposed to be scared of that? Of this small bird who’d been knitting just minutes earlier?

If she was trying to either intimidate or offend him, she’d failed miserably. It was with pure confusion that Wren turned to look over at Rich as the bird stormed away as quickly as she’d come up to them. “Did she just…?” Yeah, it was clear from Rich’s face that had just happened. “Ugh,” Wren sighed, thoroughly put out that now this was something they had to deal with. Obviously they couldn’t just wait until Stubby got out to find out if this was some crazy fan. That wouldn’t be good for him. And so making sure something like that didn’t happen seemed like a friends thing. The friend things was turning out to be bloody uncomfortable a lot of the time. But Wren didn’t do things halfway, so—time to be a good friend, he supposed. Which apparently meant dealing with Stubby’s psycho fans. 

Wren didn’t get up like the bird did—as if he could be bothered with that—and instead addressed her from where he sat, bringing a leg up to rest that foot on his other knee and leaning back comfortably, as if there was no place he’d rather be than the uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room. “It’s funny you think we look familiar, ‘cause I’m certain we’ve never seen you before,” he said, his voice practicedly friendly though the implication, of course, was that she was a nobody. A nobody who didn’t know Stubby because Wren had sure never seen her with him. Probably a psycho fan who’d somehow figured out when Stubby was getting out. “But speaking of things that would be shitty to do to someone just out of rehab, I don’t think Stubby’s gonna be looking to sign autographs on his way out the door. So if you don’t have the best of intentions maybe you should go. We can be pretty unpleasant ourselves,” he said easily, though his pleasant tone and comfortable posture didn’t change. Wren wasn’t really used to intimidating people, and besides, his words were true enough. The last thing this bird was gonna want was to try to get to Stubby through two Veela. A lift of Wren’s hands and she’d be napping in her chair.

Rich was annoyed when the bird walked towards them. He honestly did not feel like entertaining some ridiculous flirting. Yes they were attractive, it was only natural for a bird to want to flirt. Even boring, dull, little brown things like this one. The sort the Minister would probably be happy if he or Timmy ever brought something like her home. The fact that it was never going to happen, for either of them, was enough to help him with his smile. It started off well enough, he supposed. Being told he didn’t look like a bodyguard was a compliment…right? Only it devolved quickly. It took Rich a bit to catch on to the fact that she was threatening them, wasn’t she? He felt a bit like he’d been scolded by someone’s mum. But there did seem to be something in that. Wren seemed to think so too. Rich couldn’t help leaning over and asking Wren, “Are we supposed to frightened of the knitter?” What was she going to do, knit them an ugly sweater? As to who the knitter was, Rich differed in thinking from Wren on this one. He couldn’t help wondering if Stubby had a sister, one so dull he’d just forgotten to mention her. Except he’d met both of Stubby’s parents and this bird didn’t look like either. Or like Stubby in any way. Weird. He was surprised when Wren spoke up but Rich leaned back and let the other speak. Equally surprised when Wren decided to try intimidating the bird back. This was one way to pass the time waiting for Stubby he supposed.

[vilarich]

veelawren​:

For someone who was used to feeling like he belonged anywhere he decided to go, Wren felt decidedly out of place on the stiff chair in the St. Mungo’s waiting room. And there were a lot of reasons that went beyond the fact he and Rich were easily the best-dressed, best-looking people in the stark white waiting room; that was pretty much standard everywhere Wren went, after all. First was the fact that Wren was here with Rich, doing something that felt—well, heavy. And it was. Stubby had almost died. From the same sort of potions he got from people like Wren and Rich. Granted Wren had never been one for pushing the potions. And he’d done his best to help Rich keep the shit away from Stubby once Rich clued Wren in that he’d been doing that. But there was an uncomfortable, nagging guilt at the fact that he hadn’t thought to do that for so long. Would it even have helped? Stubby’s family seemed pretty shit. Wren hadn’t paid that close of attention—paying attention to things was a new thing for him, and it was already exhausting—but Rich had clued him into some of it after the first time Stubby wound up here. And here he was after not even a full day out on his own. And then there was the very new, very uncomfortable thought that Stubby might not even want Wren here. They weren’t really friends, were they? Wren had gotten closer with Rich, had some real conversations with him, but Stubby was still too busy drowning himself in potions to do that. And yet still Wren felt that strange sense that, as with Rich, maybe Stubby was more of a friend that he’d originally thought. All three of them had been out at those clubs in search of something. All three of them with everyone’s eyes on them. Or maybe it was just that it seemed like Stubby needed a friend, and for better or for worse he and Rich were Stubby’s best options. Because there was no one else here for Stubby, not even his parents, and Wren doubted they’d show up. Whoever the bird was who kept looking at them definitely wasn’t here for Stubby. Wren’s lips curled into a slight grin at Rich’s comment, more glad that Rich was breaking the weird tension of just sitting there waiting for Stubby than anything else. Wren glanced at the bird again. Something about the ugly sweater reminded Wren a little of Ebony, and it made him answer a bit more nicely than he might have otherwise. “Maybe she’s a volunteer,” he said in a low voice. “Here to read books and give ugly hats to drug addicts. Is that a thing?”

Rich tried not to laugh at what Wren said. He very nearly made a joke about the ugly hats driving people to drink to forget them before he realized that wasn’t in the best taste. Something he normally only thought about around Beck. Around others he tended to say whatever terrible things came to mind. Or he had. Lately he’d been thinking before speaking more. “I think you might have nailed it,” he said instead. A volunteer definitely seemed more likely than this bird knowing anyone in rehab. Rich was grateful that Wren was here. Not because he had someone to gossip about the disapproving bird. Moral support or something like it. Sure he could have gotten Davey — a relatively new development but he was certain Davey would have come — or maybe even Timmy but Wren was the right choice. They were the closest thing to friends Stubby had. If Stubby let them maybe they could actually be his friends. Rich hoped Stubby let them. Opening himself up to the chance of rejection wasn’t something Rich was used to. It had started with Timmy and now it seemed to be snowballing into everyone he knew. Or everyone he liked anyway. There were plenty he knew that he rejected so their approval was not wanting nor needed. Even though it had gone well up to now, it was still an uncomfortable feeling. This chance that he might get rejected. Stubby had done so once already. Somehow it felt like it might sting more coming from a sober Stubby than it had coming from a desperate for potions Stubby. Rich didn’t like it at all. “I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky she’s not furiously trying to make us ugly hats right now,” he said, trying to not dwell on the possibility of rejection.

[blackhairpinkercheeks]

Hestia wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not. She worried it was the latter. After all, Stanley’s dad had told her that he didn’t want to see her. Which meant she really shouldn’t be here waiting for him to be released. She was nervous. Nervous that he would be upset at her for coming. Nervous that his parents would show up at any moment, surely they were on their way, and have her kicked out before she could see him. Too nervous to even manage the knitting she’d brought along to help her nerves. After mangling so many stitches in a row she wasn’t sure she’d be able to undo it she’d finally sat the knitting back into her cheery yellow bag. Only now she had nothing to do but try not to stare at the only other two people in the waiting room. Hestia didn’t recognize either of them. But she had a sinking feeling they were there for Stanley. Sinking because they didn’t look reputable at all. Sure their clothes were clearly expensive and both of them were attractive. However, looks and nice clothes didn’t make good people. Hestia felt a little bad about judging someone she didn’t even know. There was just something about them. Or maybe that was just because she’d overheard them telling the receptionist that they were there for Stanley. Maybe not everyone around him was awful. Except this was his second time in this part of St Mungo’s and that seemed to indicate that everyone around really was awful. Hestia debated saying something to them. While also trying to look as if she wasn’t staring at them.

[vilarich]

Rich worried that Stubby wouldn’t want to see him but he had also worried there wouldn’t be anyone to pick Stubby up from the hospital. All his bandmates had gone and quit, according to all the gossip everywhere. He was pretty sure that Stubby’s parents would just send a bodyguard around to get him. But at the same time he knew that if this was him, the Minister might not send anyone just to be a dick. The Minister and Stubby’s father had a lot in common, all the bad stuff. Not to mention Stubby’s dad was probably the reason he was back in this place instead of getting better. He’d been around enough to know that Stubby’s manager father didn’t just let suppliers close to Stubby, he was one of ‘em. If Stubby had any chance of not dying, which was looking closer and closer to actually happening, he’d need to be away from his dad. Thankfully Wren was up to coming along to try and convince Stubby to come with them. No Veela magic, just an offer Stubby could accept or not. Even if Rich was worried enough that using magic on Stubby was tempting. He was surprised to see someone else there waiting. Some bird who looked way too young to be knitting like an old lady and way too clean cut to be waiting on someone getting out of rehab. She didn’t look like a groupie so she had to be waiting on someone else. Stubby did not hang out with birds who knitted and wore fuzzy yellow sweaters that looked like she’d probably knitted it. Not to mention the way this bird was looking disapprovingly at him and Wren, she’d hate Stubby. Getting antsy he leaned over to Wren, “Do you think she’s waiting on the boyfriend she drove to drugs by being so dull or a sibling who just couldn’t hack it?”

[vilarich]

magicaldavey​:

Davey let out a soft chuckle at Rich’s words. He’d been surprised when he first learned about Rich’s reputation while they were dating. Even now it didn’t seem to fit with the Rich he knew, but that was something that made even more sense in light of everything he’d said about his public life. Maybe that was part of it. And now more than ever Davey could understand the need for a distraction, for the warmth of another person. Granted he’d sought that comfort in just one person instead of a string of one-night stands, but truthfully it didn’t feel all that different. Davey took the fact Rich wasn’t asking about his choice to sleep clothed as a silent reassurance that it wasn’t something they needed to talk about tonight, that there would be time later to figure out all the things that might make picking up exactly where they’d left off difficult. Davey was okay with that. Everything felt difficult now, but being with Rich wasn’t. Even if they had to make some adjustments and pick up someplace slightly different, it was still him and Rich. There was still that worry that Davey was different, too different for Rich, but it was easy enough to brush it aside for now when Rich was saying he liked Davey in his shirt. “I like wearing your shirt. It smells like you,” he added with a grin. Davey watch unabashedly as Rich took off his own clothes. He’d always been fit and now he looked even more so, his muscles more defined than they’d been before. Davey wondered if that was from all the times he’d seen Rich in the training arena with Nik, or if it was something else. It was a surprise when Rich offered to put pajamas on. Davey wasn’t sure if he’d even seen Rich sleep in boxers before. The offer was for him, and he appreciated it. But he shook his head. “No, you’re perfect,” he said with a soft smile. It was his own new scars he was worried about; he had no complaints about Rich lacking clothing. “Now get in here.” Davey crawled under Rich’s covers and then pulled the blanket back so Rich could join him, his heart racing at just how close he was to being snuggled up with Rich again. 

He smiled at Davey’s words, and that grin. Knew exactly what Davey meant. As he’d held Davey near his door he’d been happy to smell Davey again. Davey sweaty and dirty just made him think of hugging Davey after a game before he’d had a chance to shower or Davey right after a work out. So many memories flooding back in. Even now, with Davey on his bed there were plenty of memories, didn’t matter that Davey was clothed. Rich felt Davey’s eyes on him as he undressed but instead of preening a little he wondered if Davey still liked what he saw. Objectively he knew he was better looking than Georgi, he was a Vila so of course he was. But Davey hadn’t ever been like anyone Rich knew. The worry that Davey might want the real Marchbanks after all instead of the imposter was there despite evidence to the contrary. Worries that Davey pushed away with that smile and his words. Rich nearly took his boxers off too, the last time he’d slept in them was the few days Timmy had stayed over. Despite the familiarity this was new. He wanted to make sure Davey knew that he was okay with not jumping right back to where they started. That they could take things as slowly as Davey needed. Truthfully this was far more than he deserved. But he wasted no time crawling into bed beside Davey. Rich was okay taking things he didn’t deserve when they were offered. Snuggling with Davey even more so. “I missed this,” he whispered after they’d wrapped around each other with familiar ease. Finally being in bed with Davey he was more certain than ever he’d probably not sleep despite feeling more relaxed then he had since the last time Davey was in his bed. There was still that worry that he’d wake up and this would all be a dream. Far more wonderful than his usual but a dream all the same. He kissed Davey softly, trying to get in one more before the dream might end just in case.