Stubby Boardman

Stanley Bishop Stubby Boardman || Lead singer of the Hobgoblins || Everything you want

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Jacob didn’t show how surprised he was at that added thanks but he was. This had to be the first time he’d heard the bloke say it, certainly was the first time he’d said it to Jacob. Usually he just acted like an entitled pop star. “Welcome.” He couldn’t help wondering if Stubby was sincere or just putting on the appearance of manners for Hestia. Maybe he’d kept her a secret not just for the fans and his dad but also to keep her seeing the real him. Not his problem. Mean maybe but Jacob had enough on his plate without trying to figure out what in the world Stubby and Hestia Jones relationship involved. “Probably for the best to just stick around there. But I’ve got another job and responsibilities. If something unexpected comes up I may not be able to show up. Don’t worry, any backups would just be the extra help we’re gonna need. I’ll keep the circle small and only blokes I know I can trust fully.” Jacob figured Stubby was concerned about more people knowing where he was, with good reason. Hopefully the blokes Stubby was trusting proved just as trustworthy. Jacob wasn’t sure about that one but it was a relief to know Stubby did’t have a big entourage or anything. “Good.” He might have felt bad for Stubby going from having a ton of people around to just three. But he’d seen how terrible Stubby’s life was before rehab,  this was a lot better. Would be for Stubby too if last time was any indication. He thought a moment about if there was anything else. His auror training and being best mates with Kingsley felt like it was helpful considering he hadn’t ever done this before. But he felt reasonable sure he could keep Stubby as safe as anyone. “You might want to continue signing your owls Stanley or some other name.  Keep ‘em vague too. Owls are typically safe in transit but the tabloids aren’t above poking through trash or other ridiculous moves to dig up information. A little extra diligence to protect your privacy is worth it.” It seemed like Stubby was taking this seriously so giving him encouragement to continue doing so might help him keep it up. “That’s it, we can head over to the beach house unless you have any questions for me.”

Stubby wouldn’t have blamed Jacob for looking surprised or commenting when Stubby thanked him. It was the fact that Jacob didn’t do either of those things that had him lowering his voice slightly, even though Hestia already pretty much knew what happened, and adding, “And um, thanks for what you said to my dad. I mean, I know it didn’t change anything. And it got you fired. But--” But it had been the first time anyone said something like that out loud. The first time anyone seemed to give a shit about what his dad was making him do. “Thanks,” was all he said. He nodded when Jacob said it would be best to stick around the beach house. That was all Stubby wanted to do. So he was surprised when Jacob still seemed insistent on backups for him. Especially because Stubby was pretty sure he made it clear he wouldn’t be able to pay for more than the meetings. And he hadn’t thought about how that would mean Jacob telling even more people where he was staying. But that was probably another thing he had no control over. If he had to trust whoever Jacob trusted to get him in and out of meetings with his dad okay, them knowing where he was staying was just a little more risky. “I...okay. If you’re sure that’s necessary. I just, um. I don’t think I can afford to pay people to be on standby.” And he couldn’t imagine who would want to be for free other than people who’d want to take advantage of his situation. “And, uh, just to be clear, I’m not asking you to be on standby either. I’m really not planning on going anywhere we haven’t talked about in advance.” He was pretty sure he’d made that clear. Jacob was the one who’d brought up Stubby owling him if he needed to go anywhere else. He supposed an emergency could pop up. But if it was an emergency, he wasn’t sure how much help sending off an owl to Jacob would be. At least if Jacob had anymore thoughts about the company Stubby had left, he was keeping it to himself. He nodded at Jacob’s advice to keep sending his owls Stubby. Stubby knew perfectly well how crazy the tabloids would get and what they’d resort to. “Yeah. I’ll do that,” he agreed. He was sort of surprised when Jacob was ready to go to the beach house. Just like that. It felt too easy in a way that made Stubby want to distrust it. And that made Stubby want a potion. Or a drink. But those weren’t options. So he nodded. “No questions right now. We can head over there.” He stood up and glanced over at Hestia. “You gonna come with us, Jonesy?” 

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Somehow finding out Stubby didn’t even have a full education wasn’t surprising. At least he had some of one, Jacob supposed. “It’s not too complicated but it’ll help keep smaller things safe. Basically anything smaller than a box. I’ll show it to you when I get done checking out the beach house.” The charm was nothing like Gringots level but it would keep Stubby’s gold safe from most people. “Good. Since I’ve got to round up some help I’ll see about trying to have some backups in case I’m busy.” Somewhere between him telling Stubby to owl him and Stubby agreeing he realized that this was another thing he’d need some help with. He was going to take Stubby’s safety seriously but he wasn’t about to drop what he was doing to take the bloke on some last minute errand or whatever. He was definitely going to have to figure out how to make this work. Hopefully he had some time before Stubby owled him or his location got out. Which might be sooner rather than later if those two losers were involved. It was surprising to hear that they’d teamed up with the secret girlfriend to convince him not to go back to his dad. And that they’d actually cut him off. Maybe that was why he’d been wondering around Knockturn puking on some kiddy gang member’s ugly shoes. He couldn’t argue with Stubby about having choices. Jacob had worked for him long enough that he felt like if Stubby had real mates he’d have seen them. Instead it was all employees, fellow band members, and hanger ons. Maybe these two hanger ones wouldn’t be so bad. But just because Stubby trusted them didn’t mean Jacob was going to let his guard down. “So far it seems like it’s better than your dad at least,” he commented. Which was as complimentary as he felt he could be. “Anyone else I should be aware about?” Jacob wanted to make sure there were nno more surprises. Or potential security risks.

“Okay,” Stubby said with a nod, and then a second later he added, “Thanks.” It wasn’t something he’d ever said to any of the people his dad hired to work for him before. Usually because those people were always there to make sure Stubby was doing what his dad wanted him to be doing. Jacob included, except Jacob had also never left Stubby passed out in a ditch. And Stubby couldn’t forget how Jacob stood up to his dad. Probably the first person who’d ever done that. He was surprised by what Jacob said next, about getting backups in case he was busy when Stubby needed something. He was pretty sure he’d made it clear he couldn’t afford more than what they’d already talked about. He definitely couldn’t afford to have people on standby for him, even if he’d like that. “Oh. Er...if you think so. I mean, other than the meetings and stuff I’m not really planning on going anywhere else.” Nor did he want to go anywhere else. Stubby wanted to stay hidden away at the beach house as long as he could. Which meant hoping that none of the four people he was trusting would break that trust. He didn’t feel terribly optimistic about that, but that was the situation he was in. At the very least, Stubby was used to being stuck in shit situations at the mercy of people he shouldn’t trust. This probably couldn’t be worse than his dad. He grimaced when Jacob acknowledged that thought. “No one else,” he said. That was it. Hestia, Rich, Wren, and now Jacob. “Anything else?” He added rather than linger on that. Stubby wasn’t sure how all this stuff worked but it seemed like Jacob knew what he was doing with all the questions. That was something, at least. 

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Jacob raised an eyebrow at what Stubby just told him. Going to the beach house was a priority for sure. This bloke was gonna be completely broke, really surprising he wasn’t already, before too long. “How are you with charms,” he asked instead of pointing out what a terrible idea it was to tell people where his gold was. “I want to teach you one to safeguard your gold, can’t be too careful.” As far as he knew Hestia was an honest person, of course he hadn’t known she was Stubby’s lil secret or that she’d apparently gotten a beach house out of that so there was a chance there was more to his little brother’s unassuming female mate than he’d thought. Even if there was’t it would make him feel better knowing there was an extra level of protection on Stubby’s gold stash. Just in case. At least Stubby was sticking to one place. “Good. Unless there’s a good reason to, staying in one place is better. I can get it secure and you won’t need someone around at all times. You’ll owl me, of course, if you decide to go somewhere so I can make sure it’s secure, right?” This was going to be a different setup than Stubby was used to. He couldn’t afford 24 hour security and Jacob sure wasn’t going to put his entire life on hold to just sit around with Stubby Boardman all day for the foreseeable future. Rich and Wren. Jacob tried to place who that was. The names sounded familiar. As far as he knew they weren’t the other band members. No one who worked for Stubby. And then it hit him and not only did he know who they were but felt like Stubby’s sad hope of then mot selling him out was probably a lost cause. “You mean those two potion slingers who were always hanging around? They know where you are?” Jacob had’t actually seen either of them give Stubby potions but he was sure he’d seen both of them with potions. Knew for a fact that the Minister’s son definitely had issues with potions. And staying out of the tabloids for all the reasons Stubby did even when the pair of them weren’t falling out of some club together. He hand’t been able to find out much about Wren without a last name, as far as he could tell it was just some nobody who popped up at some point and stuck around. They were not the sort of people he thought a bloke who was honestly trying to stay sober should be hanging around. Jacob wondered what they’re angle was.

Jacob raised a brow and Stubby wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have told Jacob where he gold was, but if he had to trust Jacob to keep him from getting kidnapped in a fan’s basement--or worse, getting taken back home by his dad--then he figured he also trusted Jacob not to rob him. And Rich and Wren and Hes knowing was a lost cause, because if not for Rich’s suggestion that he get it on the way from the hospital to the beach house, Stubby wouldn’t have any money at all. So they knew, and they could take it if they wanted, and that was that. It still stood that if any one of the four of them decided to screw him over, that was it for him. But the fact remained that he had no other choice but to trust all of them. Or rather, he had no other choice but to act like he trusted them even though he wasn’t entire sure he did. Jacob’s question surprised him until he explained. “Er...well I dropped out of school when I was 15,” he said. He sure hadn’t taken a charm lesson since. And he hadn’t been at school to get good at charms in the first place. “But I’m decent at charms, I guess.” He’d never been terrible at them, anyways. He just hadn’t ever worked that hard, not on charms at least; all his energy went into his music lessons and into making sure he was the most popular bloke in school, per his dad’s instructions. It had been fun then, though. “Uh..yeah, I can do that,” he said with a nod to Jacob’s next question. It was weird to think about owling someone if he wanted to go somewhere. He wasn’t sure how that would even work if Jacob was busy, it wasn’t like he was going to be on call for Stubby, Stubby knew he couldn’t afford that. But he didn’t plan on going anywhere else, so this would have to work. Or maybe Jacob would decide this was all a lost cause, because Rich and Wren knew where he was staying. Stubby winced when Jacob called them potions slingers. Jacob wasn’t really wrong. Only at some point they’d stopped slinging Stubby potions--and that was a large part of how he’d ended up in that ditch after taking potions from that shiny bloke who’d reminded him of Rich. Stubby shrugged. “Yeah.” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t fully trust Rich and Wren either, even though they seemed weirdly different. Even though he still remembered that night Rich cut him off, and then stopped going out with him entirely. Wren had stopped too. And then they’d both shown up for him at the hospital. “They came to get me at the hospital. It was them and Hestia who convinced me not to go back. And they’re not potions slingers. Cut me off a while ago, actually. I’m pretty sure Richie might have save my life a time or two...” he added quietly, remembering again what Rich had said to him. “Anyways, didn’t have much choice in who’s help to take,” he added. “It was go with them or go back to my dad, so....is what it is.” 

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

50 galleons was less than what he was looking for when he was out job searching. But it was more than he expected Stubby to offer when he realized what was happening. While it wouldn’t fill the hole losing that 100 galleons an hour had left it would at least help keep things okay for now. And it was better than working for free. “Alright,” he told Stubby agreeing to the 50 galleons. Jacob nodded when Stubby said he was working on keeping sober. “Good.” Given who his father was and the way that man operated it was probably a better idea to worry about Stubby screwing him over. To scrape up some money and get a lawyer of his own to write up a contract. But the bloke looked more like a lost kid than a rock star at that moment so he decided to trust Stubby. Possibly a mistake but despite having been burned in the trust department in the past he till found himself leaning towards trusting people rather than away from it. “The schedule will be helpful, I can start seeing if I can round up anyone to help so we’re prepared. But yeah, I can check it out today. Just make sure the contract is written up and signed before any of these lawyer meetings you have.” Jacob wanted that done and dealt with as soon as possible. But Stubby’s safety could be at risk so he did’t feel right just leaving the bloke while they got the contract worked up. “We might need a few things to secure this beach house but I wont’t know till we check it out. Now is that the only place you’ve been staying? Are you here at all? Or any place else? Cause I’ll need to check the security of any places you’re going to be.” Being th one to call the shots was new. Usually Jacob just got told where to be and for how long. Had to bite his tongue while he saw obvious security mistakes. Or what he’d thought was mistakes and had now come to wonder if they weren’t on purpose after all. Jacob was so far enjoying getting to be calling the shots. He just hoped he was up to the task since a bloke’s actual safety hinged on him being so. A little more stress than he’d like but he wasn’t going to back down from the challenge.  

Stubby was still surprised when Jacob agree to 50 galleons per hour. This all still felt too good to be true, which made him suspicious of the whole thing. There were dozens of reasons why Jacob might choose now to take advantage of Stubby even though he’d never sold him out in the past. The situation was different now. But that didn’t change the fact Stubby was desperate. He had no other options. He’d just have to hope that whatever Jacob’s motives were, they wouldn’t hurt him too much. At least not more than not having Jacob’s help would. It felt like a decent risk to take, at least Stubby hoped it was. There were already a million ways everything could blow up in his face; what was one more giant risk, really? So Stubby nodded when Jacob said he wanted to see the schedule, and even that he’d come to the beachhouse today, before there was a contract. Stubby wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a sign that Jacob was up to something sketchy, but he still had no choice here. Having Jacob look at the beach house sooner rather than later felt like a good call. “Okay,” he said, agreeing to get the contract ready by the meetings. “I have everything I took out of my Gringotts account at the beach house, so I can pay you for your time today before we’re done.” Hopefully that would help. And the fact he had a small pile of gold hidden at the beach house was all the more reason to get Jacob over there to look at it sooner rather than later. Stubby knew it was a risk to have it all there, but if he’d left it at Gringotts his dad would have been able to take it all back. He nodded again when Jacob said they might need to get stuff for the beach house. Hopefully he could afford it. Hestia would probably offer to pay, but Stubby was already relying on too many other people for too much. It made him even more nervous. “Er. No, that’s the only place. This is the first time I’ve left. And I’m not really planning on going anywhere else.” Stubby didn’t want to go anywhere else, to risk being spotted. And he didn’t really know where else he’d go, anyways. Staying away from people felt like the safest choice. The easiest choice. “It’s just Hestia and Rich and Wren who’ve been to the beach house,” he added. “And it’s been a week and none of them have sold me out yet, so...I dunno,” Stubby gave a tired shrug. “Hopefully that doesn’t change.” He didn’t really believe it wouldn’t, didn’t trust that one of them wouldn’t realize what a payout they could get and decide to take it. Maybe the fact all of them had plenty of money already mitigated some of that risk. But his dad had plenty of money without Stubby and that hadn’t stopped him from taking everything Stubby earned and everything Stubby had to give until there was nothing left of him. And his dad was still trying. 

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Jacob wasn’t surprised when Stubby wanted to know why he was making him the offer he did. It was a stupid offer, probably. But before he could answer Stubby was pointing out an obvious flaw in it. “Well then we’ll just have to put a clause in the contract that says if you don’t you pay it back in payments when you get a regular job,” he answered Stubby. Not that he thought this bloke could ever get a regular job but if he didn’t get his money back he was gonna have to work somehow. “The why is pretty simple. Maybe I’m too nice but I can’t just walk out of here and leave you to a mob of lunatics any more than I could stand by and not say something while your dad pressured you into drinking that potion.” It really was as simple as that. Jacob would feel terrible if he didn’t try to help Stubby after the bloke came to him and asked for it. He’d feel responsible if something happened to Stubby that he could have prevented by helping him. Jacob just couldn’t do it. “Besides I saw you last time, you seemed good off the potions. I dunno if it would have kept up but it wasn’t right what your dad did. And this time you asked for my help. I can’t work for free but I’m not gonna turn down someone who legitimately needs my help when they ask for it,” he added. Jacob had no idea if Stubby could stick to his conditions, stay clean and not go off partying and making Jacob’s life more difficult. But the bloke deserved an actual chance to try. Something he wouldn’t get around his dad.

....A regular job? There was no way Jacob actually thought Stubby could get a regular job. But maybe he had a point regardless. If Stubby didn’t get the money back, he was right and properly screwed. There was no way he’d be able to support himself. Even if he had any practical skills, which he didn’t, where the hell was he going to get a job where he wouldn’t be mobbed by crazy fans the whole time? Even if someone did hire him, he’d end up tied up in some psycho fan’s basement long before his fame faded into nothingness. Which meant, if he didn’t win, he’d have to go back to his dad. No matter how much damage was done to both their reputations in the process, Stubby would have to go back. There would be no other choice. And so Jacob would get his money either way. “Okay,” was all Stubby said. He was more concerned with why Jacob was offering this in the first place. Stubby looked at the bloke with furrowed brows as he explained that he was just nice. That he couldn’t just stand by and not help, like he was explaining a simple concept instead of one that made no fucking sense to Stubby. No one in his life--except maybe Hestia Jones, and Stubby still wondered constantly when her ulterior motives would reveal themselves--did things just to be nice. Maybe even more of a surprise was what Jacob added, about how Stubby had seemed good off the potions last time. That all felt fuzzy, but Stubby had a vague memory of actually writing again, actually wanting to, before his dad ruined that. Stubby hadn’t found that same sort of clear-headed calm again this time. Maybe he wouldn’t find it again. Maybe he’d lost his one shot at that. Stubby couldn’t believe Jacob would do all this just because he was nice, just because he believed in Stubby or some shit. But Jacob had also never taken the opportunity to sell Stubby out. Maybe it was because of his dad, because he’d been afraid of Sanford and now he could take whatever shit he got on Stubby and sell it without worrying about that. Or maybe he had other reasons. Revenge against Stubby’s dad, which Stubby wouldn’t mind being Jacob’s motivation. Maybe he was hoping to leverage this into another job offer. Maybe he really was just so desperate for work he’d take what Stubby could give him. Whatever hesitations Stubby had about why Jacob was willing to cut him a deal, the fact of the matter was Stubby needed him. He didn’t have any other options. So he nodded. “Okay. I uh....I guess you’ve got a deal, then. I can swing 50 galleons an hour, probably,” he said, hoping that wasn’t too low and also hoping it wasn’t too high he’d run out of gold too fast. “And uh...yeah. No potions or parties,” he added, glancing down at his teacup. “I’m already working on that, so...” So it would be added incentive to know that if he slipped up on the potion front he’d end up without a bodyguard. Fuck, he’d love a potion to deal with the stress of staying off potions. He was a fucking disaster. “Do you think you could come look at the beachhouse today? Or--I can ask one of the lawyers to write up a contract first,” he added. Stubby wasn’t sure how all this worked. Frankly he didn’t feel great about any sort of contract offering money to someone else, but he’d just have to hope if Hestia’s dad’s lawyers wrote it instead of Stubby’s dad’s lawyers he wouldn’t get screwed out of anything this time. “And, uh, I can get you the schedule Mr. Jones gave me. I dunno if there’s anything else you need.”

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Jacob was not heartless by any means. The fact that Stubby sat across from him looking sad and more than a little pathetic pulled at his sympathy. Especially when they both knew that someone would find out. It was great that Hestia was helping him out, and her family apparently. And despite the iffiness of them maybe getting a beach house and who knew what else from Stubby they seemed like they cared. That’s the impression he got from the what Stubby had said Hestia’s dad said. Assuming he was the Mr Jones Stubby was talking about. But even if they and everyone at these law offices kept their mouths shut there was one person who would’t. Mr. Bishop played dirty. Jacob didn’t even know how dirty because he was never around for any of that. But he’d heard and seen enough to know he payed dirty and had no problem pressuring Stubby into taking potions despite the bloke’s clear problems with them. If it would benefit him, or who knows maybe just to hurt Stubby as some kind of twisted punishment, he would give up Stubby’s position easily. “They’re going to find out,” he told Stubby, not to be mean but because Stubby needed to be prepared for that. “Your dad payed me a hundred galleons an hour. I doubt you have that laying around so here’s what I’m willing to do about the money. You pay me what you can manage right now and we put it in a contract that you’ll pay me the rest once you get control of your money. Including the cost of any extra help needed.” There was a very good chance that Jacob was fucking himself over, himself and putting his daughter’s future at risk, here. But he wouldn’t feel right leaving stubby to whatever fate his dad had for him over money. Jacob needed, and liked money, but not at the expense of being a good person. It’s why the job with Stubby before had been so stressful because there were a lot of nights where he wondered if what he was doing was such a good thing. He was not going to get into that position again though. “But you start doing potions, partying, taking unnecessary risks and making my job harder the deal is off. I’m out and the bill will be due in full.” It didn’t seem like Stubby was planning any of that but Jacob wasn’t taking the chance. Better if they both knew the rules up front. “How’s that sound?”

They’re going to find out. Of course they were. Stubby knew that. His dad would make sure of it. Even if it was bad for him, probably because he’d know it would be worse for Stubby. And it would be worse for Stubby. Even thinking about it right now, safely in Hestia’s flat, Stubby wasn’t sure he could do it. He wasn’t sure how much fight he had in him when it was so excruciatingly hard just to sit here and not go rummaging through Hestia’s cupboards for a bottle of alcohol that she surely had in here somewhere. And it would be even harder without a security detail. Impossible, maybe. A cold weight settled in Stubby’s chest when Jacob said what his dad paid him. It wasn’t surprising, exactly. He knew he brought in a lot of money, and he knew good security was expensive. But a small, stupid part of him had just hoped it was a little bit less, something that wouldn’t wipe out all the money he had in just a few meetings if multiple security guards were involved. So that was it then. Because Jacob was right, Stubby didn’t have that lying around. Except--wait. Jacob didn’t stop talking. Was he...? The confusion on his face gave way to surprise as he realized what Jacob was offering. Was he serious? There was no way he was serious. He hated Stubby. And Stubby didn’t know anything about Jacob’s life, but the bloke had just been fired. Surely he needed money. Real money, not whatever Stubby could scrape together and the frankly small possibility he’d get reimbursed if Stubby won back his money. Stubby wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure he wasn’t hallucinating this whole thing. Maybe he hadn’t managed to stay off the potions. Then Jacob spoke again. The condition was maybe the least surprising thing he said, and still Stubby hadn’t expected it. If only because it seemed to indicate he hadn’t hallucinated this whole thing. Jacob was serious. This was a real offer. “Why?” Stubby blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean, why would you do that?” He added, in case it sounded like he was asking why Jacob had added the contingency about Stubby staying clean. That part made sense.  It was the only thought going through his head though. Why the hell would this bloke who clearly hadn’t ever enjoyed putting up with Stubby’s shit do this for him now? What was in it for him? Especially seeing as he wasn’t even asking Stubby for interest or anything on the contract. Just to be paid in full for what he worked. That was a stupid business move, Stubby knew enough to know that. Jacob had Stubby in a bind here. Stubby was desperate, he needed Jacob’s help, and Jacob knew it, and he wasn’t even trying to get more out of it, which was extra stupid because he might end up getting nothing at all if none of this worked. Maybe he’d lied about the cost, about the 100 galleons, but 100 galleons seemed reasonable from what Stubby could tell and it still wouldn't make sense because the real risk was him getting nothing from Stubby. He didn’t need to lie to ramp up the payout if it ever came.  “You know I might not even win anything back. He might just keep it all,” Stubby couldn’t help pointing out, in case maybe Jacob just didn’t realize what a gamble he was making here, and Stubby still didn’t know why he was even making it. Maybe he was stupid to ask, maybe he should have just said yes, but usually when a deal seemed too good to be true it was because it was to good to be true. 

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Jacob got distracted from the surprise of Hestia by Stubby answering his earlier question. Stubby it was then. Which was probably good because that’s what Jacob had called him for so long anyway. “Okay,” he replied before going ahead and fixing himself a cup of tea. It felt weird eating his little brother’s biscuits while meeting with Stubby Boardman of all people. Just as weird as the fact that he was having tea and biscuits at his little brother’s mate’s kitchen table talking to Stubby Boardman. There was a lot to take in. Stubby seemed more vulnerable than he had last time he’d been sober. Hestia’s family apparently had a beach house? He thought her dad was a gardener. Did Stubby buy his apparent secret girlfriend Hestia’s family a beach house? It wouldn’t really be surprising considering the ways he’d seen the whole band spend money on things for others to look like big shots. Or so he assumed that’s why they were doing it. But right, he wasn’t here to speculate on Hestia Jones, though he was definitely wondering. Stubby seemed rough. More like how he’d expected the bloke to be the first time he’d gotten out of rehab. Only that time he had the security of hiding out in his own flat. Till his dad got tired of him not making money that was. At least this time Stubby seemed to be standing up for himself even if he did look like he was barely able. When stubby had been wasted and doing his rock star shit it was easy to forget he was just a year older than Connor. Looking like this it was impossible to not think of how close in age he was to Connor. Or to remember that his dad held a lot, if not all, the responsibility for what a shit show Stubby had been. Jacob couldn’t really afford to work for cheap but his nature also wouldn’t allow him to get up and leave Stubby looking like he was looking when he could help. “I’ll have to see this beach house, see how secure I can make it. If your dad does leak the location of your meetings I might have to bring someone else in to help things stay in control. I’ll want to bring in people I trust, not any of those blokes who worked for your dad,” he added. Jacob wasn’t sure if Kingsley would do it but he might be able to persuade the bloke to help. Maybe even Ted. Since he wasn’t sure about what Stubby could pay it really limited him to people he knew would be okay not being paid what the job was worth. Jacob knew how insane Stubby’s fans were, and how insistent the paparazzi could be. It would take more than just him.

Despite the fact that Jacob had already surprised Stubby by even agreeing to show up and hear him out, he was still very much expecting Jacob to laugh him off and tell him not to bother him until he could offer a full time job--if even that, if Jacob would even want anything to do with Stubby. Jacob was the only one of his former security team who’d ever seemed to care that much about whether Stubby ended up dead in a ditch, but Stubby was also quite sure the bloke didn’t like him. Not that Stubby had paid that much attention to his bodyguards, but he’d learned quite early on that there wasn’t much likeable about him beyond Stubby Boardman the Rockstar, and so Stubby noticed when people weren’t even taken in by that. It was a surprise when Jacob answered, sounding like he was actually going to help Stubby. Maybe it was just because he knew Hestia. Or he was that desperate for some extra money. Stubby didn’t care what the reason was, he was just relieved that Jacob might actually be able to help him out a little. Though his relief was short-lived when Jacob mentioned bringing in other people. Stubby knew Jacob wasn’t wrong; Jacob knew better than most how crazy some of Stubby’s fans could be, and if they did find out where Stubby was going to be--especially after he’d been off the grid since that disaster of a show that landed him back in the hospital less than a week after coming out of the hospital the first time--it would be a disaster. The problem was, Stubby wasn’t sure how long he’d even be able to afford Jacob. If he was paying multiple people, he might only be able to afford protection at a few meetings before he’d be on his own again. And it was going to be more than just one or two meetings, based on what Mr. Jones said. It all felt so hard as it was, how much a fewof him it was going to require to even have a shot at getting his money. It wasn’t the money Stubby cared about so much as the independence--and that was sort of a scary thought too. Stubby had never been in charge of his own life. He stared into his teacup, once again wishing desperately for a potion. Or a drink. Anything to curb the anxious feeling crawling over his skin. “Okay,” he said in a quiet voice, because he didn’t have the fight in him to negotiate.  I dunno how long I’ll be able to pay more than just you, but I’ll do it as long as I can. How much did my dad pay you?” Stubby assumed whoever Jacob found to come along would charge the same. Hopefully not more, though Stubby didn’t even know yet just how much Jacob’s time spent looking at the beach house and then going to meetings with him cut into the gold he’d managed to take. And he wasn’t going to count on Rich or Wren or Hestia not getting tired of him by the time his gold ran out and forgetting about their offers to help. He didn’t want to need it. “Maybe no one will find out anything...” he added, though his voice was doubtful. On the one hand, he doubted his dad wanted anyone finding out Stubby was suing him. On the other hand, his dad was smart. He’d likely considered that swarms of fans would make it harder for Stubby to get to any meetings he needed to be at, would make him need to spend the little money he did have on security until it was drained and Stubby had no fight left in him. He wasn’t sure how much fight he had in him to begin with. He remembered what Rich had said, about finding a reporter to talk to, to make it public how awful his dad was in the hopes he’d give up to save face. Stubby just wasn’t sure that would work, or if it would be worth it. Or if he had it in him to air it all publicly. Stubby sighed and ran a hand over his face. This felt hopeless. Fuck, he wanted a potion. 

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Being Stubby Boardman’s bodyguard had come with a lot of unexpected grief. The main one being that it had always felt like he was the only one who seemed to worry about th bloke’s safety. Not even the kid himself had seemed to care. But there was also how much of an arse his manager, who turned out to be the kid’s dad, was. How the other bodyguards did what Jacob considered the bare minimum and seemed to be rewarded for that. And of course that point where someone at Witch Weekly had decided that alongside their coverage of any time Stubby Boardman so much as breathed they needed a little thing about his hot bodyguard. A title Jacob had been both surprised and embarrassed to find out had been given him. For th longest month of his life he’d been subjected to people from the magazine trying to cozy up to him, trying to get him to pose for pictures while he was working, and all the Stubby fan girls who thought he would be an attractive way to get closer to Stubby. Because Jacob knew that it wasn’t about him or even his looks but ultimately about his position as Stubby Boardman’s bodyguard. Thankfully for him the attention lessened almost as quick as it sprung up, a combination of his complete refusal to cooperate and some one else’s bodyguard or assistant or something being more photogenic. Poor bastard, but Jacob had been relieved. It hadn’t stopped th fan girls but the teasing from his mates had lessoned at least. So aside from the loss of paycheck he hadn’t been too torn up about losing his job.

He also had never expected to hear from any of them again. Sure he’d seen the headlines, he wasn’t about to read any of that garbage, but he’d assumed it was some kind of PR. Or maybe Stubby gone off the rails again. But if the owls he got were really from Stubby, now Stanley apparently, he might have had things wrong. Jacob was interested enough to find out. Plus he was struggling to find a job so even a part time gig might be worth it. Assuming he didn’t have to keep some idiot from drowning in his own sick again. No amount of money was worth doing all of that again. There had been just enough information in the owls that he had felt confident enough that they were from Stubby. He hoped since he’d let that bit about getting fire because he’d objected to the potion abuse out. It should be known what a dick Mr. Bishop was but Jaco would be sick if he gave that information to some trashy tabloid. The mention of the flat he’d take a very messed up Stubby to some nights made him feel more certain he was writing to the right person. Jacob had never known what the deal with that flat was. No one ever mentioned it except for Stubby when he needed help getting there. He had never asked any of the others in case it was something private. It was certainly private from the tabloids and fans. He’d been suspicious the first time he’d brought Stubby here. It was a decent flat in a decent building in a decent neighborhood, all very normal in a way nothing involving Stubby was. But when he’d helped Stubby in the door it was just as nice and normal as the surroundings. Nothing to suggest it was some seediness happening. Jacob could’t help wondering if it was some secret girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Maybe one from school. Whatever was going on there he’d never done anything but leave Stubby inside and give the bloke the privacy he never got anywhere else. Jacob would usually wait outside, inconspicuous but close in case he was needed.

Today he’d been going inside. Maybe finally find out what the deal with the flat was. Jacob was surprised when Stubby himself answered. Might not have recognized him except for the fact that Jacob had seen him last time he’d sobered up. He was a bit different than that time but similar enough. “Thanks,” he replied stepping inside. As he followed Stubby he spoke again. “So erm, do I call you Stubby or Stanley,” he asked. While flat was just as normal and small as he remembered from his brief looks inside, there was one very big surprise. “Hestia?” Jacob did’t hide his surprise or confusion. Hestia didn’t look surprised or anything. “Hi, Jacob. I made a pot of tea and there’s biscuits in the tin, Connor’s actually.” She told him all of that pleasantly as if her being here with Stubby Boardman was completely normal. Was this her place? Her next words felt like a yes. “I’ll just let you two talk, if you need anything let me know.” What the bloody hell? Hestia Jones?  Her place was the one Stubby stumbled into all of those nights. So was she the secret girlfriend? Did Connor know? Connor didn’t sell weed to Stubby did he? Weed was the least of his problems but really. He’d have to have a word with Connor, find out what the deal was and make sure he hadn’t been selling to Jacob’s bloody boss. A worse thought struck him and suddenly he was hoping that Stubby Boardman hadn’t been the loser Connor had sex with. But that didn’t feel likely. If Connor had some secret lover he wouldn’t be able to keep it secret for long, he was terrible at secrets. Whatever had happened had been a one off. And Stubby had been staying over here for a while. Right, couldn’t be. That still didn’t explain the Hestia Jones of it all. Maybe Stubby would provide an explanation.

“Oh. Uh.” Jacob’s first question should have been expected, maybe, given that he’d signed his letters to the bloke as ‘Stanley,’ but Stubby hadn’t been at all ready for it. He was pretty sure no one had ever actually asked him that question either. And now he wasn’t sure he knew the answer. He’d shed Stanley Bishop a long time ago, despite Hestia’s insistence on still calling him that. She was the only one. And Stanley still felt like another person; like a ghost. Stubby didn’t want to be Stubby--but he wasn’t sure he was ready to be Stanley again. He wasn’t sure if he even could be Stanley again. It had just felt like a better idea to sign that owl to Jacob with a name no one would recognize in case he’d completely misremembered the bodyguard he was trying to contact. Thankfully Jacob had figured out from his last name who he was. Fortunately while Stubby stood there unable to formulate an answer to what should have been a simple question, Jacob seemed to get distracted by Hestia. So she’d been right when she told Stubby she was pretty sure the Jacob he’d invited over was her friend’s older brother. That was weird. It was even weirder seeing them talk and realizing they clearly did know each other. Stubby was tempted to ask Hestia to sit with them. She and Rich and Wren had been carrying him through the last week, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to stop leaning on them yet. But she was still here. In the room. And Jacob had been the one bodyguard who actually seemed to care if Stubby didn’t die in a ditch. So maybe this wouldn’t be too terrible, even if it ended with Jacob telling him to go shove it. “Um. You can just call me Stubby, I guess,” he said before taking a seat and taking a sip from his teacup while he gave Jacob a chance to get some of the tea or biscuits Hestia set out. “So uh...I don’t really know how all this stuff worked before,” he began softly, feeling unsure of himself and surprisingly vulnerable, asking for help from a bloke who’d seen him at his lowest over and over again. “But I’m hiding out at Hestia’s family’s beach house right now and I really, really don’t want my dad to find me there.” His voice trembled a bit as just the thought of his dad finding him sent a shock of anxiety rushing over him. He wrapped his hands around the teacup, trying to still them. “And, um. There’s also meetings and stuff I’ll have to go to, at some lawyers offices or something. My dad might be at some of them. And Mr. Jones is worried someone might say something about me being there and fans or paparazzi could show up and I can’t--” his voice quivered again and Stubby looked down at his teacup and took a breath. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give for a potion. Something to take the edge off. “I need security, basically,” he said instead of finishing that earlier train of thought. “I don’t have much money right now and I don’t know exactly what my dad paid you but I’m hoping I could afford you for the meetings and stuff. To help get me in and out, and make sure no one who isn’t supposed to be there shows up.” At Rich’s suggestion, Stubby had emptied out his Gringotts account of the allowance his dad gave him each week. Most of it had been spent on potions, but there had been some still sitting there, and his dad had forgotten to stop the auto-deposit during the weeks Stubby was in the hospital, and Rich and Wren and Hestia had all offered to cover any difference in what Stubby needed for a bodyguard. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, though. “If that’s something you’d be interested in,” he added. 

[youwantstubby]

Stubby wasn’t sure how long it was going to take for him to feel better. He wasn’t sure he even knew what better was supposed to look like. All he knew was he’d been out of the hospital for a week and he felt as tired and aimless and scared as he had the day he walked out of St. Mungo’s to find Hestia and Rich and Wren waiting for him. And yet, whatever hope--or maybe it was hopelessness--that made him follow them that day, out of the hospital and away from his dad to Hestia’s family’s beach house, it hadn’t left him completely. It was what had kept him going the past week since he’d left. Or maybe it was just Hestia and Rich and Wren, showing up every day to give him direction that he couldn’t seem to find for himself. Mostly it was Hestia and her dad, showing up and talking about lawyers and contracts and Hestia’s dad promising Stubby he’d take care of everything, telling Stubby just to focus on getting better. Stubby wasn’t sure how to do that. Especially not with the constant worry his dad would find him and take him away from the peace and quiet of the beach house and dangle a potion in front of him and put him back on stage. All he seemed able to do was what Hesti and Rich and Wren told him to. Which was mostly to sleep and eat and a few times to sit out by the ocean and get some fresh air. Stubby didn’t mind doing those things. He just didn’t know how to feel normal again. Or what normal was. Still--this was better than getting dressed up in gaudy clothes and forgetting who he was and getting on stage to sing bubblegum pop versions of songs that had been so watered-down from what he wrote they were no longer recognizable. 

This was better, but Stubby was still scared. Scared it wasn’t enough. Scared it wasn’t sustainable. Scared none of it would matter and he’d end up back in his dad’s clutches. Or on the streets with nothing. Despite Mr. Jones’s promises those felt like distinct possibilities. Especially when he’d come and gently let Stubby know that while he’d do everything he could to keep Stubby out of the process, Stubby would still have to participate in some ways. Affidavits, he’d said. Depositions. Meetings. He’d told Stubby he’d be there with him the whole time, but he’d also suggested Stubby bring a bodyguard along, just in case word got out of where he would be. Stubby had been surprised when Jacob answered his owl, and even more surprised when he’d agreed to meet with Stubby about a potential job. The bloke really must be desperate. So was Stubby. 

So here he sat on Hestia’s couch--the same couch he’d slept on so many nights--waiting for Jacob to show up, if he showed up at all. He kept looking to the window, worried someone would have somehow found out he was here and was waiting to snap a photo of him looking pale and tired and not at all like a rock star in sweatpants and an old, faded Beauxbatons t-shirt, his hair hanging limp without a bit of gel. At least if someone did show up he’d be able to disapparate quickly to the beach house; the reason he’d suggested here instead of there, and he was grateful Hestia had agreed. At least somewhere would still be safe. As safe as he could get. Hestia’s felt particularly worrisome, though, given his father had surely caught wind by now that Hestia’s father’s attorneys were the ones starting to ask him questions about his contracts. He shot her a worried glance when a knock came at her door, but he got up all the same upon her insistence that whatever spells she had on her flat they’d keep his dad away. Stubby braced himself and pulled it open, relieved to find himself face-to-face with his old bodyguard. Jacob. “Hi,” he said in a soft voice, painfully aware of all the ways he’d embarrassed himself in front of this bloke in the past. Painfully aware the bloke had been there that day his father came over and dangled potions at him and forced him back onstage. “Er--come in,” he said, stepping aside so Jacob could come into the flat he’d always just let Stubby through the door of, at least as far as Stubby could remember. There were far more nights Jacob had been involved in that Stubby didn’t remember at all. Fuck, being sober was hard. He nodded over toward Hestia’s kitchen table and led the way over to sit. “Thanks for coming.” 

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Stanley,

Really? That’s really your name?

Welcome. Sorry it didn’t do any good.

Good for you. Won’t lie, pissing your dad off by helping you avoid him makes this more tempting. Be even more tempting if it was full time.  Well, if you’re serious about keeping a low profile, I should be able to help with that. I can’t guarantee I can keep your dad from finding you given I don’t know what your current set up is. Not to mention how well funded your dad is. But if the terms of employment are acceptable and I take the job, I can promise I’ll do my best to keep him from finding out and if need be, from harassing you if he does. We can discuss a full time offer once the dust settles.

Of course. I’d hope my history of discretion speaks for itself, so you’re not wrong there. I’ve never been interested in selling your secrets to the tabloids no matter how sweet the deal. And there’s no way I’d give your dad the time of day either. 

Jacob

Jacob,

Yeah, me too. 

We’ll see if any of it actually works. That’s fair enough. I’d rather not meet anyplace public right now. Haven’t been keeping up with the tabloids but from what Hestia, Rich, and Wren have told me all of London is wondering where I am. And not just London. But do you happen to remember that flat I would ask you to drop me at some nights? Any chance you’d be willing to meet there to talk about all this?

Good, that’s what I’m counting on. 

Stanley

[youwantstubby]

brownjacob​:

Stanley Bishop? Who the hell is Stanley Bishop? It’s gotta be Stubby but what the hell? He’s offering me a job? This feels fake.

Stanley,

Really that’s your name?

Yeah, he fired me because I told him that shoving potions at you after you nearly died was fucked up. Does lay low mean that you’ve fired your dad and are staying clean? If I’m right about that I’m open to discussing working for you.

And yeah, you should be sorry about how hard you made my job. Not sure if I’m desperate enough for this. 

Jacob

Jacob, thank Merlin I guessed the right one, 

Ah. I thought I imagined that part. Right. Thanks for trying. Thanks for trying. It’s more than anyone else ever did. 

I wouldn’t say I fired my dad so much as I’m trying to quit working for him. There’s a lot of lawyers involved and I’m trying to avoid any public attention. And trying to avoid the potions too, yeah. Can’t make any promises there. But I’m trying. So there’s not gonna be any concerts or parties or that kind of shit. I can’t afford someone full time right now, anyways. I just need someone to help me keep a low profile going to meetings and shit. And to help make sure my dad doesn’t find me. If I win back any of my Stubby Boardman money, though, there’ll be a full time offer for you after. If that’s something you’d be interested in. 

Also, even if you’re not interested in any of this, I’m kind of going out on a limb here and trusting you not to talk about anything I’ve said here. You’ve kept enough other secrets for me over the years I’m hoping I’m not wrong about that.

Stanley

[youwantstubby]

Joshua John Jacob fuck I really hope that’s your name,

You probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think you’re the only one of my security guards who ever gave a fuck about me actually doing your job so here goes anyways.

My memory of the last few weeks is fuzzy, but I think my dad fired you? Sorry for that. Except not really because I know for a fact how shit he is to work for so I reckon you’re better off. I guess what I should really be sorry for is how hard I made your job, huh? 

I’m not selling this well. But the point is, I’m trying to lay low while my friend’s lawyer dad sorts through my contracts and I could use a security detail, and if I’m remembering right about you getting fired maybe you could also use a job?

Let me know.

Stanley Bishop

[youwantstubby]

vilarich​:

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.

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. 

[youwantstubby]

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.”

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. 

[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.”

[youwantstubby]

vilarich​:

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.

It was a relief when Rich spoke up quickly, answering Stubby’s question in the alternative. There was so much he wasn’t sure of, so many decisions he was expected to make that felt too big and too challenging. Even the small ones felt daunting. Where to go. Whether he wanted someone to stay with him, or just to visit. Whether anyone here actually cared about him or if he was just walking into a different sort of trap than the one he was trying to escape. But leaving the rehab waiting room before anyone else showed up felt like a choice he could make. As did going back to the beach. It still felt silly, foolish, and it probably was to expect any place to heal the hole that years of mistreatment from both his parents and scrutiny from them and fans alike had left behind. But if there was anyplace he could do that, someplace with fresh air and waves and quiet felt like a good option. Rich’s next question was another simple decision. Stubby wasn’t sure whether he was surprised by the offer or by the fact that Rich had clued into the fact that Stubby might want to be out of the clothes he was in as quickly as possible—because really he did. Frankly Stubby would be happy to never see most of his clothes again. Everything normal was shoved into one drawer at the bottom of his dresser. So he nodded. “Yeah, um, clothes would be good.” Part of him couldn’t help but wonder how much normal clothing Rich actually had himself, but anything would be an upgrade from the Stubby Boardman outfit he’d almost died in. And Rich was proving to be full of surprises today. But Stubby still wasn’t sure he trusted that there was no angle. That Rich was just here to help him when their whole friendship up to this point had been about both of them getting something out of the other, even when that was just someone to race to rock bottom. It seemed pretty clear Stubby won that one. 

[youwantstubby]

blackhairpinkercheeks​:

Hestia was surprised when Stanley hugged her back. She didn’t actually remember when the last time he’d hugged her that wasn’t him actually just holding onto her because he was too out of it to stand. It had been that long. Better than the hug was that Stanley had agreed to let them help him. She was even more glad now that his friends seemed to be good ones because she wasn’t exactly sure what now. Other than just getting Stanley somewhere his dad couldn’t hurt him. But the Rich bloke, the one who looked familiar, did know. It sounded smart too. Lawyers might be needed, Hestia hadn’t even thought about contracts. Hestia felt even more optimism about actually being able to help Stanley out of all of this now. But it was sad to know that he couldn’t go home.

“That wouldn’t be good,” Rich told him.

If Stanley was right that his parents owned everything, Stanley’s place would be theirs. She was just glad she wasn’t the one having to voice that it wouldn’t be good. At least he had options. Her flat, her parents’ house, Rich had offered his flat. Or the beach house. Hestia’s face lit up when Stanley mentioned it. He remembered! Family holidays to the beach house had always been wonderful. But those times Stanley had been with them had felt extra special. The only worry she had about the place was if it would be good for Stanley. It hadn’t felt like it was good for Regulus. But maybe what Stanley actually needed was time alone. While Regulus hadn’t needed that at all. Despite the worry that it wouldn’t work for him either Hestia smiled at him. “It’s not stupid! No one’s there. You can have the whole house to yourself if you want. Or if you think it’d be better for someone to be there with you. I can stay. Or they can,” she said gesturing to the two blokes that she really hoped were as good as they seemed. “Or we can take turns. Whatever you want. There’s no way your dad would think to look there. And you wouldn’t have to worry about fans either. It’s the perfect place to lie low.”

“We can go to your place and get some things for ya if you want. Clothes, whatever else you might need,” Rich offered.

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.