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bonelesswords · 5 years

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a study of souls | alex høgh andersen au

Chapter six: kiss you goodnight

gid credit: @lol-haha-joke

masterlist

Warnings: Language, sexual content, mentions and using of drugs, mentions of a toxic relationships, grammar mistakes (english is not my first language)

note: I came back with this one aaaahh, if you like it let me know and if you didn’t let me know as well, feedback is appreciated.

Once again this week, it starts raining over my head and the already wet ground. I jump around, trying to avoid the loose tiles next to Rory, who tells me that Julia’s only excuse for not reading The Great Gatsby is that she always forgets to buy a copy, because there was none in her house. Rory says it’s incredible not to have read the Great Gatsby at twenty-two, now twenty-three years. This is how he came up with his birthday present, which he brings into his hands now.

“She will be happy, I’m telling you. You will see that I am the person who makes the best gifts of them all.”

I laugh as we go to the street of Julia’s house. I try to act like I’m not nervous as fuck, because the truth is that I haven’t stopped thinking since Rory called me to tell me that Julia would like me to attend her birthday because I got along with her. My mind hasn’t stopped wandering around the name of Alex. I don’t know anything about him since I left his car last Saturday, the idea of seeing him in just a few seconds makes me almost anxious, but no one could know, the only people who know what happened last week are just him and I.

“Julia still lives in her parents’ house.” Rory whispers to me, as if she were going to listen to us. “They have a huge house, I don’t blame her. With all due respect.” He jokes, referring to me.

“I don’t live at grandma’s house!” I reply indignantly “We share the house, we live together, I pay the bills too.”

“Of course, June, sometimes I forget you’re an angel.” He retracts himself by shaking my hair, I laugh before I realize that we are at the end of the street, in front of a house, in fact, quite large.

Rory rings the bell and after a few seconds, Julia opens the door with a smile too big on her face.

“You were already late!” she says and greets us with big kisses on our cheeks and invites us to go to a small hall with many pictures with pictures on the walls, She goes ahead to one of the red doors before looking back at us. “I’m glad you came, June.” She smiles at me and I smile back, I like her.

“Sure, happy birthday.”

“Thank you, now come in, I made pizza today.”

We enter into a living room illuminated only with warm lights, as the entire room seems to be decorated. All of them are sitting on cushions on the floor, surrounding a coffee table with a large pizza in the middle and many glasses. Everyone turns around to greet us, my stomach turns around when I see Alex and he looks at me, he sketches an almost awkward smile and directs his gaze to another place in two seconds. Was he as nervous as I was? Or maybe that didn’t mean anything?

I sit next to Julia and right in front of him, which is uncomfortable even for me, but why? If the last time we met we had a good time. After thinking about it all week I had come to the conclusion that Alex didn’t owe me a kiss, despite having implied that he liked me, and almost doing it. He repented, that is a fact, however, in a scenario in which he and I have our eyes on each other, the discomfort is remarkable, the tension could be cut with a knife. “Happy birthday, Julia. I owe you.” My brother says reaching the rectangular wrapper for her, who grabs it with enthusiasm. “Now you won’t have any more excuses.”

Julia breaks the wrap and when she sees the book under it, her face lights up with a big smile, as big as when she opened the door and laughs happily, thanking him.

I grab a slice of pizza and the night begins.

I take the glass of beer to my lips while I stare at Jack, who is in the middle of an anecdote, I have noticed that Jack makes a lot of effort to tell them, because he does a whole act before, imitates the voices of the people involved, their movements, makes long and suspensive pauses until the joke arrives, and I jump, trying not to spit the beer on someone’s face when it makes me laugh so much that the liquid could get out of my nose. Jack seems to enjoy when people laugh at his jokes, he likes to make them laugh, so he laughs at my reaction and my effort to keep all the liquid in my mouth and not spit anything on the floor.

“Oh, come on June, what do you think?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s very difficult to look at Jack at all, just because Alex, who hasn’t spoken to me since I arrived, is sitting next to him, I can feel how he looks at me every second.

“Me? I don’t think I’ve ever fucked on a first date” I answer, Rory shakes her head as if he didn’t want to have heard that.

“You think!?” He exclaims and I burst a laugh .

“Because you didn’t want it or because it never happens?” Asks, this time, Evangeline.

“Because there was no place for the situation.”

“What if there was?” Helena inquires now, as if she wanted to torture Rory with that kind of information. The only thing I can think of is Alex’s face, but I do my best not to look at him, otherwise I would turn as red as a tomato.

“I mean, If I wanted to, why not?” I say and turn to see my brother, who covers his face with his hands, making me laugh.

“Oh my god, Rory.” Travis shakes his head, ruffling rory’s hair.

“Besides,” Julia begins “when you’re on a first date, after so many kisses at some point you have to feel like moving on to the next base, right? It’s normal”

Alex and I are completely silent and I wonder at what point the conversation began to take that path. Julia turns to me, fully aware of my sudden silence.

“God, no June, don’t make that face.”

“What face?” I ask laughing.

“That face that you don’t kiss on first dates.“

"I’m not making that face!” I protest amused. “I always try, at least.” The words come out of my mouth almost on purpose, almost too much on purpose.

“No, June, a kiss is the minimum step that has to be taken on a date.”

“Julia! You can be afraid!” Travis reproaches her.

“Afraid of what, Travis? The girl said yes, something has to mean. You’re not sixteen anymore”

“If a guy don’t kiss me on a date he’s afraid.” Evangeline states.

“Or maybe he just regretted it.” I point this time.

“There’s no guy who would regret taking me on a date.” Evangeline says again and everyone bursts into laughter, including Alex who the conversation seemed already too uncomfortable for him.

In the middle of laughter my eyes meet Alex’s and they stay that way for a few seconds, it’s almost intimate how only him and I know. A chill runs through my back when he stays serious for a moment and then looks away sharply.

For the rest of the night, Alex does not speak to me again, even when I try, the answers he gives me are short and abrupt, I wonder if he really got angry at what I said, because he only behaves like that with me, as if the person he is now and who I went out with a few days ago are not the same, as if suddenly he stopped liking me. Julia, however, distracts me. She talks too much, she doesn’t finish talking about one topic because she has already started talking about another, but it keeps us all entertained. She opens five debates at once and seems not to get tired until others understand her point, which is a bit difficult for Travis, despite loving each other a lot, they differ even in the least, and it is obvious that Julia doesn’t like to be contradicted much, and it is even more obvious that Evangeline is tired of hearing them discuss when she has rolled her eyes more than five times in four minutes, but the rest of them find it funny hearing them fight. Even Alex comments from time to time, sometimes in favor of Travis’s opinion and sometimes of Julia’s, prompting them to continue arguing as if they were two children.

While I find Alex right in front of me, it takes me a second to sort all the thoughts in my head but above all, be clear with myself: I might like Alex, yes, but he didn’t seem to like me, despite having said it, maybe he regretted it in every way.

Fuck.

There is no way to order my thoughts, it seems impossible, all I know is that today, Alex is more handsome than usual, as if he had planned it on purpose. His denim jacket makes his eyes look more blue and when he run his fingers through his hair, it is messy and he doesn’t bother to fix it. I feel so stupid when he makes me sigh. The thought hits me overwhelmingly and too cheesy when I find myself silent, looking over the glass full of beer, I wish that day in his car, the safety belt lock had not sounded and that he had kissed me. Nothing else. Sometimes he catches me watching him, and sometimes I catch him watching me. I could swear that every person in the room can feel the tension in the air, but no, it’s just him and I.

Julia gets up from the cushion ready to bring another pizza from the kitchen, she asks me for help to bring some drinks and I follow her to the next room with empty plastic bottles in my hands.

“My parents aren’t home for the whole weekend.” she explains “That’s why they are all here today. They went to a friend’s cabin or something like that before everyone came. We celebrated my birthday today at noon.”

“Are you going to be alone all weekend?” I ask. Even if it was my house I wouldn’t spend the night alone here, it is too big, too dark. None of the halls have enough lighting, if I didn’t see the light bulbs above my head, I would swear that the house is only lit by candles. In her house seems more autumn than it is outside.

“No, of course not. I would die of fear. I invited Evangeline to stay today, and Jack tomorrow. We’re going to make a sleepover.” She says and remains silent as she begins to put small pieces of cheese to a pre pizza until she looks up, her eyebrows raised, as if a light bulb had lit on her head “You should stay!”

“Me? No, I don’t have pajamas.” I shake my head but she denies.

“What about it? I have lots! You should stay. It’s a plan, okay? You’ll stay. Evangeline and me would be bored anyway.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No, you don’t. I’ll take you home tomorrow if you want.”

“That would be great, I don’t even know how to get home from here.”

Julia lives in a neighborhood quite far from mine, one where you walked and you found a house bigger than the other, I had never been to those places, if I had to take the bus alone I would get lost in five minutes. Grandma and I live in a nice neighborhood, I can’t complain, but that was something else.

She puts the pizza in the oven and leans against the counter. “You know, June, I have this thing that I can easily read eyes and there’s something about yours,” She says amused, tilting her head to the side. It makes me laugh, although it’s hard to know if she speaks seriously or not.

“Do I have weird eyes?” I ask her laughing.

“No, but they say a lot of things. Like, tell me June, do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend?” She inquieres, crossing her arms over her chest. I sigh, oh Julia, if you knew that my love life is a disaster.

“Neither of them.”

“Oh, I knew that.” She jokes.

“I don’t look like someone who could have a boyfriend?” I laugh and she shakes her head, too into the conversation now. “No, actually. That’s why I asked you. You got this tired look, June. I will find out why you have that look, not now, maybe, but anytime soon. You know what I mean?” I nod, I know what she means, so I give her a bittersweet smile. Was it very ridiculous to ask myself if she was right or not? Of course I was tired, not physically, but I was, quite a while ago. It’s unusual that she notices.

“Yes, it’ll be fun watching you try.”

“YES! And I’ll start tonight because you’re staying, right?”

“Right.” I confirm and she dramatically changes the subject.

Julia strives to know me more, tries to include me in all the talks, to explain jokes that I don’t understand, to tell me who they are talking about when a name that I don’t know comes up.

“I saw Theo today, Alex.” Travis says with a smile forming on his face.

“Yeah?” Alex asks, a little hostility sneaks into his voice.” Did he talk to you?“

"Yeah, he ask me about your pretty face” Travis replies covering his mouth in the middle of a laugh before finishing the sentence, Alex rolls his eyes. “He said that since he left your face like a walking bruise you haven’t been to the club.”

Travis!“ Helena scolds him. "Don’t you realize that the kid goes crazy?”

“Tell him that I’m making him believe that I’m not going anymore so when I come back he won’t expect that I beat the shit out of him.” Alex replies angry and the room is full a sound of “uuuh”, but Travis explodes in laughter and Alex rolls his eyes again.

“You aren’t going beat the shit out of no one Alex, chill.” Rory laughs, bringing a glass of beer to his lips.

“I’m beating the shit out of you, Alex, if you come black to that shitty club.” Evangeline reproaches him.

“No one is beating the shit out of no one! It’s my birthday.” Julia bangs her fist against the table.

“Technically your birthday was yesterday, Julia. It’s after twelve, so …” Jack mutters through the whole murmur, rolling up his shirt as if he were about to start a fight, and in two seconds, everything is laughing again, although Alex keeps a frown for a few more seconds and pulls out his phone and doesn’t pay attention to anyone for five minutes.

It is no surprise how fragile the ego of men is.

Night passes and when I tell Rory that Julia practically forced me to stay at her house, he gets happy. Everyone is leaving, including my brother. Now the only one left are Evangeline, Travis, Alex and me.

“I want to pee so bad.” Julia hisses making me laugh.

“And why don’t you go to the bathroom?”

“Because I’m afraid of the hallway upstairs.” She explains with a worried face.

“I go with you, if you want. I also have to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, thanks. I’m also going to change my clothes because I’ve stained myself with pizza sauce.” She says pointing to an orange stain on her pink shirt.

I nod and she let everyone know that we are going to the bathroom. Julia leads me through the hall where we entered when we arrived with Rory and I start up the stairs behind her. She turns to hear footsteps behind me, I do too, and a few steps below me, is Alex.

“Do you know that there’s another bathroom there, right?” Julia asks.

“Yes, but I’m going to this one for the same reason as you, Julia. You should put new light bulbs in that hallway, it’s scary.” Julia rolls her eyes but keeps going up the stairs.

The corridor of the second floor is large, has four doors in total and is only illuminated by a small orange light, it was true, the halls of Julia’s house were scary. She walks at full speed to the last door, squeezing her legs and stumbling, enters the bathroom and closes the door tightly. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms.Alex imitates me and leans against the opposite wall, looking me in the eye. I raise an eyebrow.

“What are you watching?” He asks hostile.

“I’m not seeing anything, I just have eyes, in case that confuses you” I answer with a frown.

“Yes, I know, those have been looking at me the whole night.” He mutters suddenly and takes me off guard. I open my mouth in surprise, but he doesn’t seem to be, a devilish smile appears on his lips, too amused.

“I though you were the one who were looking me all night, Alex. For a minute I though you became mute.” The sarcastic tone sneaks into my voice, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Maybe I just way afraid of talking to you.” He narrows his eyes, referring to a few hours ago, when almost all the girls agreed that the least you had to do on a date was to kiss, if not, you were afraid.

“Oh, it is about that?” I ask without waiting for an answer, but he nods, waiting for him to keep talking.“ Look, Alex, you don’t owe me a kiss, we were just kidding. ”

“Do you think I was afraid of kissing you?” He whispers serious while taking a step towards me, at that moment my pulse goes crazy.

“I mean, if you were it’s okay. I understand.” I whisper as well, all that is heard in the hallway are whispers now, and hissteps slowly approaching to me.

“Afraid of what?”

“You know what..” The words stay in the air and he sighs, stepping closer. My heart beats at full speed and I’m almost sure he can hear it, but I don’t say anything, nothing happens. I listen to his breath, I listen to mine. “Of Ror…”

“I’m not afraid of your brother!” He interrupts me annoyed. “Why would I?”

“Again Alex, it’s okay if you are.” I say calm, but he is still upset, his brows are so close to each other I suspect they hurt.

“I’m not, June. In fact, I think you are afraid of your brother.”

“Me?” I ask laughing “That’s bullshit.”

“Why are hoy whispering, then? Are you afraid that one of Rory’s friends hears of what we are talking about?”

“I’m whispering because you starte…” I begin to say but before finishing the sentence, he grabs the back of my neck, drawing me towards him to stamp his lips against mine. His right hand goes up my waist and I can swear that there is no more space to separate us, my abdomen is on his. His kiss is not rushed or abrupt, but it is soft and slow, but it is enough for all emotions to explode in my stomach and my breathing may shake perhaps too much. His hand goes up and down on my waist to the rhythm in which his thumb of his left hand draws invisible circles on my neck, both movements burn on my clothes and my skin. Suddenly, the bathroom chain makes a rumble throughout the hallway, I can feel it when he is startled and leaves my lips abruptly. I feel a little disappointed when he leans his back on the wall, right next to me. After a few seconds, Julia opens the bathroom door with another shirt on.

“Okay, I’m going down stairs, Be quick, Alex, so I can say goodbye to you. Yes, I’m kicking you out.” Julia says starting to move down the hall.

“Always so sweet, Julia.” Alex’s chest rises and falls to the rhythm of his agitated breathing, I can feel my heart beating in my mouth, but Julia does not notice, she keeps moving forward while singing a song I don’t know.

We both froze in our places while we listened to Julia go down the stairs and then close the red door of the hall, only then we are sure that there is no one in this part of the house.

That’s when he grabs my wrist and only in one movement, he drags me into the bathroom. My heart skips a beat but the emotion mixes with the surprise when I see how big Julia’s bathroom is, it is so large that it looks like a public bathroom and has a large mirror that extends over almost the entire wall.

“I have never been in a bathroom so big …” I say looking at the ceiling and Alex smirking without paying much attention to the place, then grabs me by the waist again and stamps me against the bathroom door, as if he was making sure no one entered. I put my hands on his chest laughing nervously when he catches my lower lips with his teeth, hesitating before kissing me again, In a completely rushed kiss now, but just as soft and loud, I always hated loud kisses, but in this moment I don’t care.

His fingers sneak under my shirt and it doesn’t take long to put his tongue back into my mouth, making me hold on to his gray shirt. His cologne takes me out of balance, and I don’t realize how much time passes when I realize that I am in the bathroom of a person I met no more than a month ago and that I should not be sucking the lips of another person in this place. I separate from him a little, but his lips look for mine again.

“Alex…” I wishper breathing heavy and he takes a little step black nodding.

“Yeah, I know, I know…” He hisses ruffling his hair, he has a side smile stamped on his face and I’m sure i’m completely red.

“Did you prove your point?” I joke fixing my shirt with my hands.

“I kinda did, didn’t I?”

When we return to the living room, Travis is ready to leave, apparently Alex and him are leaving together since Rory is fixing Travis’ motorcycle. Travis gets a little distracted by telling Julia what happened to his motorcycle, so Alex takes advantage.

“I’m not leaving without your number tonight.” He whispers once again. I try to hide my smile and all the feelings that run in my body in this moment, but yes, I fail.

“Another mistake you made the other night.”

“I’d kiss you goodnight if I could.” He whispers, perhaps too close. I bite my lip and God, he didn’t need to say that.

“That’s the cheesiest thing you ever said. “

"You’re still giving me your number, c'mon, we don’t have much time.” He rushes me and pulls out his phone from his back pocket and opens the contact list. I dictate my number and he saves it. He puts his phone again in his pocket and that same arrogant smile returns to dance on his lips.

“Goodnight, Junie.”

I leave the bathroom dressed in Julia’s pajamas and run in the dark to her room closing the door behind me. Julia is arranging the mattresses where Evangeline and I are going to sleep, I turn to Evangeline to help her with the pillows and when everything is ready for us to sleep, Julia sits on the mattresses on the floor, staring at me.

“You know what I asked Evangeline the other day, June?” She asks me when a smile begins to widen in her face.

“Julia?” Evangeline narrows her eyes, not quite sure what her friend is going to say next, but Julia doesn’t pray attention to her.

“See, I asked her if she thought that I had an opportutiny with you, because, let’s be real, you’re really pretty and, believe me, I like pretty girls more than anything in the world.” She starts, confuses me a little, but then, like an idiot, I realize what she’s talking about, Julia is confessing that she likes me. “And Evangeline said "maybe, you have to ask her first”, and I was going to do it, so I invited you tonight to see if you like girls.“ JUlia explains, I’m still little confused, frowning. My gaze goes from Evangeline to Julia, and from Julia to Evangeline. The first one looks like she wants the earth to swallow her, apparently her friend could be making a fool of herself. "But that asshole Alex, oh I swear I hate him.”

“Alex!?” I exclaim, but Julia finds it funny.

“Yes, baby don’t play dumb with me, I heard you two arguing in the hallway, and worse, I heard you kissing each other like you were about to fuck.” Julia spits and I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.

“What?” I ask laughing nervous, Evangeline is as confussed as I am.

“Oh my god, June did you kiss Alex?” Evangeline screams jumping in her place.

“Maybe?”

“Maybe!?” Julia snaps. “I don’t know what was more red, if your lips or your face.” Evangeline burst in a laugh and I cover my face with my hands.

“Was it so bad?”

“Yes! But the worst thing was that stupid smirk of him! Damn, June. I thought I had a chance with you.” She shakes her head with closed eyes. “He is the worst, once I like a girl he decides to kiss her in my house, that’s unfair.” Evangeline keeps laughing so I know that Julia is just joking about hating Alex.

“We can still be friends, you know?”

“We sure can, but I mean, you could have chosen any of the boys and you chose that asshole?” She asks trying to sound funny now, I sigh.

“He’s nice to me…” I murmur “And, I don’t know, I like the way he talks to me when he’s not flirting”

“Oh, June! I’ll pray for you, that idiot never knows what he wants.” Evangeline says wrinkling his nose.

“I’ve kissed bigger idiots than Alex, I’m sure.”

“Poor kid, Evy, shut up. Alex is the nicest guy ever. He’s still kind of a prick but the nicest guy ever. But you have to tell us how the hell that happened.”

I sigh and when I’m about to start talking, my screen lights up with a message from an unknown number. It’s a simple emoji blowing a kiss.

#alex høgh #alex høgh imagine #alex høgh andersen #alex hogh #alex høgh x reader #alex høgh fanfiction #Alex høgh andersen fan fiction #ivar imagine #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar x reader #ivar fanfic #alex hoegh andersen

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floralege · 5 years

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all the ships !

who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?: i feel like brigitte has a blast putting pru in designer clothing, considering that’s how they met. bonus is catching bee in pru’s band t-shirts. fern has made a lifestyle of stealing liam’s zeppelin shirts. also just thought of rome in a suit and had a heart palpitation

who enunciates hand holding?: this is mick and daisy, who are probably met with playful disgust. shut up, we’re gonna hold hands.

who likes having their hair washed by who?: jules n bella take dramatically long baths together, romy loves washing molly’s hair, fred probably plays with cameron’s hair and it makes her soft inside

who likes to slow dance?: this screams scully n mulder, and mulder may initiate but scully digs it. catch fourteen year old mick asking brigitte to dance while delphine says that’s never gonna happen. oh ho HO how time flies. we all know gid’s got a romantic hard on for rome, so slow dancing under the full moon is a big must.

muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?: liam falls asleep all over fern while she’s on the phone with record execs, jesse literally thinks of jane as his personal pillow, jules and bella take turns sleeping on each other and make a big show of it

muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?: i could not tell you a single ship that would have a blanket fort??? maybe sadie and jimmy when they’re super drunk??

who hogs most of the covers at night?: your answer was pretty apt so i’m sticking with that

muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?: sadie definitely, also jesse. daisy just does it instinctively for dom

how do they share a desert? two forks or one?: cameron and freddie share one fork and stuff each other’s faces, it’s adorable and we hate them. pru and bee start with two forks on opposite sides of the booth, til pru slinks over and they become giggling messes.

who gets jealous more easily?: gideon was never too jealous before rome had james, and now he’s like, pathetic. also very annoyed that she never displays her jealousy. liam, we know this. mick gets a little :/ but also knows he’s literally not even really dating delphine so he gets over himself pretty quickly. sadie doesn’t get jeaaaalous exactly, but she also likes to pull the ‘he’s already got a friend’ card so

who gets angered more easily?: gideon, liam, sadie, pru, scully is half mulder’s size and will fight anyone who looks at him wrong.

who gets the most shoulder rubs?: this one is longer than expected and also you got the right answer already so, cecile probably bc she is an angel

what are there arguments/fights like? how often do they fight?: early liam/fern fights were built on jealousy n drugs and somehow always ended in sex unless liam felt like being withholding. tbh pru and delphine are soulmates but at some point pru will take pity on her brother and need to have a talk with delph like ‘so whats really gonna happen bc i’m starting to feel bad’ somehow! molly and romy are so cute yet somehow always have fights that hurt like hell

who is more likely to throw things in fights?: bella, fern, gideon is like the 18th century version of that post where the girl framed the guy’s punch in the wall

how do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument? probably just sex all around. also expensive jewelry from grady.

do they have nicknames for each other?: pru, bee, stills, fernie, molls, drunk sadie says ‘jimothy’ a lot, ivor was a big fan of saying ‘miss cece’ no matter what. obvs scully and mulder, but that’s too easy. when they’re sneaking around, dom and daisy probably had code names, and they were probably bad. they’re so anglo.

caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?: brigitte probably gives pru the full pamper treatment, so pru pretends to be sick a few days longer than she actually has. munchhausen by caldwell

who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?: fern has tended to many of liam’s bloodied knuckles over the years, ivor boxes now and then so he probably came into work very sore n bruised up and cecile took care of him.

muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?: well i read this in jane’s voice so very clearly jesse/jane content right there!

your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?: freddie and cameron were both so excited when henry was born that they probs both jumped at the chance to do it bc they live in some little rose-colored world. daisy and dom have already Done That Shit and would cringe at the thought… also imagine them having some late in life baby after all that shit went down? camille and moises would truly be tormented. jesse would be the softest dad i’m :’)

what would they be like as parents?: like i said, jesse would be a soft dad ! so soft ! too bad his life is filled with fucking pain at every turn, he’s so good with kids. mick has a complex about his childhood, so he’d be determined to be a v attentive father. daisy and dom are messy as people, but they’re good parents who love their respective kids very much. as we’ve learned, liam and fern luv the kiddos but… can’t hack it for too long.

what would they have been like as childhood sweethearts? dom and daisy are technically childhood sweethearts and… look how that turned out. jesse and jane would’ve build very intricate sandcastles together, which is very soft. pru/bee/mick/delph are kind of??? childhood sweethearts?? but they’re still figuring it out in their twenties so we’ll see where that goes. in the ethan’s gf au, liam n fern probs known each other as teenagers n she was always at rehearsals. love a throwback. childhood scully n mulder might’ve been way different, she would’ve actually believed back then.

who initiates taking a bath together?: gonna devote this solely to romy/molly and pru/bee bc my gay ass wants f/f bath time together. for pru and bee, it’s cute but they gotta keep their voices low and it’s like that scene in friends when monica has to hide under the bubbles bc joey walks in, and mimi n moises are probably joey. romy and molly have wine and make a night of it

who likes who playing with their hair?: DID WE NOT ALREADY DISCUSS THIS ABOVE SMH

#u think i have the nerve to tag all of them ? u think i'm as strong as u ???#( * orumad ╱ memes .#( * melly ╱ ships .#there we go

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thescholarlystrumpet · 7 years

Text

Or You Wouldn’t Have Come Here Unrated

Storybrooke is cursed by the Black Fairy. Gideon Gold knows his father is a man of many secrets but he has no memory of his mother except that she left. Gideon has no idea that she, too, lives in Storybrooke without memories of him.

On AO3 HERE

***

There was a young woman who lived in a shabby little house at the edge of town named Belle French. She was said to be very pretty, though few had ever seen her except in glimpses through her window. She never left her house, getting her groceries and all other supplies delivered weekly.

The only thing Gideon really knew about her was that she had a standing order at Gold and Son. Any time they got a new shipment of antique books, Papa would crate them over, personally. Gideon always offered to help – it seemed ridiculous to have a man his age carting around heavy boxes by himself. He’d already had one heart attack; he didn’t need another. Gideon, for all his contentious relationship with his father, couldn’t take seeing him in any kind of pain. But Gold Sr. always insisted on going alone, telling Gideon to mind the shop while he was away.

Gideon would wile away the hours cleaning, fixing gadgets, or keeping the books. For a small shop that barely stayed in business, they always seemed to have a lot of records to keep. Not that Papa ever needed them. He seemed to know every customer by heart. Years of being in the business, Gideon supposed.

It was not at all rare for Gideon to run the shop by himself. Papa got called away for other things besides book deliveries. He had some strange sort of business dealings with the Mayor, a dark-haired woman who always made Gideon uneasy. Just being in the room with her made his hackles rise, like an angry cat. He couldn’t explain it except to think that it was the way she always seemed to stop by at the oddest times, with cryptic requests for his father. She was nice to both Gold men but in an oily, scheming sort of way. Gideon didn’t trust her for a second and he wished his father wouldn’t do her bidding.

Papa clearly felt the same but he went when she called, anyway. It confused the hell out of Gideon. His father was possibly the most feared man in town, people scrambled out of his way when he walked down the street. Townsfolk only sought out Mr. Gold when they were desperate to make a deal. It was a lonely life, at times, but Gideon was used to it by now. He just wished there wasn’t the long shadow of the Mayor, and whatever power she held, hanging over them all the time.

Papa wouldn’t tell him no matter how he asked. It had been cause for more than one raging row between them.

It was the day after one such fight that Papa was called away again by that horrible woman. Gideon was sulking and stomping around the shop when several large boxes were delivered. He signed for them quickly and took them to the back to tear them open. Estate sale – tons of gems hidden in piles of trash. Most of the clothes were decent quality and the fine china set was complete so it would fetch a good price. He’d filled a garbage bag and a half with the rest when he spotted a collection of books at the bottom. Old, weathered covers with the gilded letters partly faded or worn away. Not much for selling but, he thought, the mysterious Miss French might still be interested.

It was getting late and there was no sign of Papa so Gideon decided to close the shop early and head to the edge of town. Papa had the car but it wasn’t far to walk. There really wasn’t very much town to Storybrooke. He arrived as the sun was setting, books in a bag slung over his shoulder.

The house was more run down than he remembered, paint peeling and siding weather-beaten. The shutters were tightly closed but there was a glimmer of light from under the door.

When he knocked, he heard a shuffling sound, then a pause.

“Who is it?” asked a timid voice.

“My name is Gideon.”

No response.

“Delivery from Gold and Son?” he tried again.

A corner of shutter peeled back and a pair of very blue eyes appeared, darting toward him. “Do I know you?”

“I, uh, I have your books.” He hefted the bag toward the window.

The eyes narrowed slightly until Gideon slowly reached into the bag and pulled out a dog-eared copy of Oliver Twist. Then they lit with recognition before disappearing again. He heard latches being pulled and locks clicking apart. The door opened slightly to reveal a very petite woman in a floral dress. She looked about ten years his senior and very pretty despite the tenseness in her shoulders and jaw, the obvious mistrust in her gaze.

“He didn’t call.”

“Sorry?” Gideon asked.

Belle frowned, looking him over and blinking rapidly. “Gold, your… I suppose he’d be your father, right?”

Gideon nodded.

“He usually calls when you’ve gotten more books in. I don’t even know how he got my number. But he’s been calling since…” her expression turned hazy and faraway for a moment. “He always calls first.” Her brow furrowed as her gaze snapped back into the present. “Where is Mr. Gold? He’s always brought them by, himself, in the past.” Those blue eyes went wide, her fingers twining together in front of her. “Is he alright?”

So, this explained why Belle French didn’t leave her house; she was clearly not ‘all there’ as the idiom went. Gideon wondered briefly if she might be dangerous but the very thought was absurd. In fact, he instinctively felt that if there was any danger lurking about, he’d be very tempted to protect tiny Miss Belle from it. There was something so nakedly vulnerable about her, something sweetly yearning in the way she asked about his father.

“He’s fine,” Gideon assured her, though with the Mayor, he couldn’t be sure he was telling the whole truth. Feeling the need to distract Belle with more pleasant topics, he handed her the bag. “I don’t know what he usually charges you but… here. We wouldn’t get much for them in the shop. So, they’re yours if you want them.”

Belle’s demeanor relaxed as she sifted through the contents of the bag. “Oh, these are lovely.” She smiled shyly as she looked up. “You are your father’s son. Only a Gold could be this kind.”

Gideon bit back a snort of surprise. Kind was not a word usually associated with the Gold name. If she’d been any other citizen of Storybrooke, he’d have assumed she was being sarcastic but there wasn’t even a hint of cynicism in the warm smile she gave him.

It woke something in him, something deep down and buried. For just a moment, he had the absurd notion that he wanted to hug her. Gideon Gold was not a man given to hugging strangers. He barely hugged his own father. He suddenly thought he understood why his father enjoyed visiting with this odd but decidedly pleasant lady. Typical that Gold Sr. would keep her to himself, just another in a million unshared secrets that built the wall between.

“Gid?” said a familiar, low voice behind him.

Before Gideon could even turn, he saw Belle look past him, her whole face seeming to bloom like a flower.

“Mr. Gold,” she breathed.

Gideon turned to the side and crossed his arms, looking down his nose at his father. “Father,” he said, curtly.

The expressions flitting over his father’s face were going too fast to read, confusion shifting into something akin to fear before melting into a grim smile. “Son, you were supposed to be at the shop until 6, today.” It was an admonishment in word only, lip service to his loosely held position of authority.

Gideon’s nostrils flared, hip jutting in a rebellious posture, but he said nothing.

Papa’s eyes were flicking back and forth between him and Belle so fast it was almost dizzying to observe. They finally settled on Belle, whose smile only grew, her eyes brighter than before. Papa’s face softened to a kind of tenderness Gideon couldn’t remember ever seeing, except perhaps in faded memories of his childhood.

“Hey Belle,” Gold greeted her, hands at his sides, his fingers closing and unclosing, like he was fighting the urge to reach for her.

“You came to see me,” Belle leaned against the doorframe, bag of books still in one hand.

“I did. I promised I would, didn’t I?” Papa spoke in a gentle tone, as though they were the only two people in the world. His eyes never left hers, hands still flexing at his sides.

Gideon shifted uncomfortably and he finally realized what he was seeing. Papa was in love with the mad hermit woman. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or be even angrier that this was yet another thing his father has chosen not to share with him.

Belle seemed to become aware of Gideon beside his father, again, as she raised the bag of books. “Your son is such a darling. He brought me more to read! There are some of my favorites in here, too. He has a good eye.” She beamed up at him.

Gideon felt that odd pull again, an urge to rest his head on her knee as she read one of those books aloud in her clear, sweet voice. He grudgingly allowed himself to recognize that Papa certainly couldn’t have chosen a more likable madwoman to love. He shrugged. “You, uh, you enjoy them. Papa, I’m gonna head back to the shop. I still have some inventory to do.”

His father eyed him searchingly, mouth a thin line. Slowly, Papa nodded, “Of course, my boy. I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not a long walk and you just got here. I’m sure you guys want to…. talk or...” Gideon tried not to think about whatever else the two of them might do when he wasn’t around.

Papa’s smile faded completely then, that deep sadness that always seemed to plague him settling into his gaze. His voice was slightly hoarse when he spoke. “Actually, it’s getting late and I know Miss Belle must be exhausted by now.”

As if on cue, Belle yawned widely. “You’re right, Mr. Gold. I’m so sorry, gentlemen. This was an awful lot of excitement for me in just one day.” She blushed, embarrassed, as she looked at Gideon and then his father. “I don’t talk to many people these days,” she explained to the former, the latter already nodding in understanding. A similar sadness in her eyes echoed his father’s gaze but it was murkier, buried even deeper and mixed with something else he couldn’t quite read. It hurt his head to try and understand.

“Good night, Belle,” Gold said, inclining his head in what almost looked like a bow.

Belle rallied one last smile, and offered a little curtsy. “Good night, Mr. Gold. And Gideon. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Gideon found a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “I won’t, Miss Belle.”

She shut the door and clicked all the locks back into place. Gideon led the way to the car lost in thought, his father trailing behind him. When they were buckled into their seats, Gold’s hand on the gear shift, he turned to his son.

“You… must have questions.”

Gideon turned to look at his father, the familiar worry lines of his face drawn and tense, the knuckles of his hand white as they gripped the gear shift. And for just a moment, it felt like everything was falling into place, like pieces of a puzzle he carried at the back of his mind were shifting to fit exactly where they should. Then the moment passed and they were just a father and son discussing the woman his father loved.

Gideon knew nothing of his birth mother, only that she’d left when he was a baby and his father – though he never spoke ill of the woman - had been a broken man ever since. But around Belle, Gold Sr. didn’t seem so broken. In fact, he looked happier than Gideon could ever remember seeing him.

Who was Gideon to deny him that?

He shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think I do. Not this time.” He put a hand over his father’s. “She’s really very sweet, isn’t she?”

Papa took a sharp breath, a tremulous smile shaping his lips, a glint of silver at the corners of his eyes. “Aye son, that she is.”

They drove home in companionable silence.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #rumbelle family #ouat fic #gideon gold #cursed!storybrooke #papa gold #papa rumple #rumbelle parents #my fic

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allurehq-blog · 7 years

Photo

blood status: halfblood clubs: gardening club pronouns: he/him sexuality: graysexual demiromantic

BIOGRAPHY

( sixteen ) –

The room was painted a dark blue with a white baseboard, wooden floors still gleaming from a recent shine. The bed was black along with all the matching furniture, and the pristineness of the whole thing made him reconsider having stepped inside with his shoes still on his feet. Too late to turn back now, he thought, since he was flanked and wouldn’t dare make a move out of turn. Too late to really turn back now, he thought, because there was nobody else to turn to, nothing to go back to. There was only the here and now and this family that Peter just realized was watching him expectantly, smiles wide on their faces.

“It’s really lovely, thank you, ma’am.”

The woman in question reached for his arm and squeezed it comfortingly. “What did I say about calling me ma’am? You can either call me mum or call me Emma.”

The man stepped up and wheeled his trunk up to the end of the bed, going back to pick up the two other bags that was all of his belongings and resting them on top of the covers. “And you can call me ‘o captain, my captain!’.”

Emma rolled her eyes and turned to Peter, shaking her head while jabbing a thumb in the direction of the man. “Don’t mind him, he always talks like that so I’ve learned to just tune it out. Call him Francis, as in he wishes he was F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

“Ouch. Sunk by my own wife, is there any harsher fate? It’s hardly my fault neither of you know Dead Poets Society… or Walt Whitman, for that matter!”

“Oh, hush. You’re scaring the boy. Go down and make some tea, captain, we’ll follow.”

With a laugh and a tip of his imaginary hat, Francis left and Peter, lost by the whole interaction, could only really watch him go. After his mother’s death, he knew that there would be changes, but he hadn’t expected the extent of it all: a new house, new family, new room. He didn’t even completely understand the whole process, only feeling as though he’d floated through all of it and hardly registering anything that was told him until finally he landed here, in a house twice the size of his old one in a room that was too big for his too few things that he now felt too ashamed to even display. So much of the process had been lost to him when he’d gone back to Hogwarts after his mother’s funeral and the reality of it, of having to go to a foster family since they had failed to find any trace of his father and he was effectively orphaned now, only hit him when he’d stepped off the train and through the wall to find a couple holding a sign with his name on it. The stuff of romcom movies, really.

“Are you okay? This must all be so overwhelming, Peter, I promise, it’s all going to be alright. You don’t have to call me mum, of course, I’m not trying to replace your mother. We’ll do our best to make you feel like you’ve been with us all along, but you’ve got to meet us halfway, okay?”

He felt sheepish then, a blossoming guilt taking root in his chest that made it impossible for him to speak so he nodded in response.

“Where’s your wand?”

“M-my-…”

“Yes, yes, your wand. I know you’re a wizard, Peter, I’m a squib myself. Or I was, I’m mostly Muggle now anyway, but I do keep in touch with the Ministry for situations like these. It’s so much better to be placed in homes like your old ones and I’m more than willing to help. It’s not often we get someone, but when we do, we do our best.”

Digging his hand into the inside of his coat, Peter offered the wand to her but she simply shook her head and pushed his hand back to him. “No, it’s fine. I just need you to keep it with you at all times. I don’t know if you’re allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts yet, but I hope you know you can’t do much of it here, at least not while my husband and my daughter are around. We don’t know yet if she can do magic herself, but that’s a whole other matter. If you have to apparate, you’ll have to go down the road, but other than that, you have all the freedom in the world.”

Finally finding his voice, Peter offered his new foster mother a shaky smile. “Thank you, Emma. I’ll try not to be a burden, you won’t even notice I’m here.”

Emma smiled back at him and nodded, squeezing his arm again.

“This may not be your permanent home, Peter, but as long as you’re with us, you’re as good as my son.

Welcome to the family.”

( fifteen ) –

Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf, So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day Nothing gold can stay.

His voice shook along with his hand, the strength that he’d so hopelessly tried to hold on to slipping his grasp as each word spoken led to another second of heartbreak, another second towards ruination. It even took effort just to manage to hold on to the piece of paper where he’d written them down, eventually letting it all go and unable to even watch it flutter downwind as finally, Peter had to cover his face with his hands and let the sobs rack his body, the endless tears seeping through the gaps of his fingers and running down his arm. It was early October and he had yet to even settle into being back at Hogwarts, still to shrug off the summer in her company where he’d help her with her flower beds, make her tea and spend afternoons with her in their living room, reading and rereading some of her favorite poems to her as she sat with her eyes closed and content, indulge her with her habits of taking him shopping and embarrassing him with her ridiculous suggestions of what he should wear, often sidling up to girls and asking them if they have a boyfriend before nudging in his direction. All of it was just minute memories, but after someone departs from the world, it was surprising how the smallest of details would come flying back, begging to be noticed and remembered.

And boy, did Peter Pettigrew remember.

He remembered how kind his mother had been… and how unkind the world could be to take her from him with such needless violence, shot when she’d gone downstairs after hearing the noise of someone who had stolen into their bare bones home to take what little they had.

He remembered the man’s face, the same wetness in his eyes as he blubbered apologies between his teeth, admonishing on how he hadn’t meant to, it was an accident, the woman had caught him by surprise and he would’ve tried to save her but there was so much blood and he got scared, he didn’t want to get caught, he didn’t want to go to jail…

… but did he ever think of what his mother wanted? Of what Peter wanted?

At fifteen, this shouldn’t be, he shouldn’t be standing over a coffin just yet, he shouldn’t be wailing over this loss just yet, he didn’t want any of this to be real, he didn’t want any of this to be permanent, but nothing gold can stay and nobody was more golden than his mother.

( fourteen ) –

“What are you interested in?”

There was that all too familiar twitch of his nose that showed how uncomfortable the question made him, but this was the level that their friendship had reached: that the other could ask knowing it wasn’t something a lot of people could do and that Peter would still consider replying instead of taking his usual route of clamming up or pretending that he hadn’t heard. It took a while, the other drifting from one bookshelf to another with him tailing behind aimlessly, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well. Y’know… I dunno.”

Gideon Prewett turned to him with a cocked eyebrow before reaching out and clapping a hand on his shoulder that somehow managed to both ease off all the tension that had been built up there but make him feel even worried and panicked. The boy had been with him when he’d been approached by McGonagall along the corridors, telling him that he needed to be more invested in school activities to bolster his education, Peter looking up to her in scared silence before Gideon took up his usual role as Peter’s voice and said that he’ll help him figure it out.

“There’s got to be something, Peter. Maybe you can… go to the Dueling Club with me? Could be fun.”

For a moment, Peter thought he was serious and had to actually turn and look the other squarely in the face to know better. It had never really crossed his head that he had to join any of the clubs around school, feeling as though there wasn’t really much that he could offer and not wanting to go through that process of being the new kid, being alienated and sticking to himself. He’d been through one too many situations similar to it and all of them had been torturous and mortifying. Thinking of them now only made him even more grateful that someone as giving as Gideon Prewett existed, someone quick to snatch him up during class when pairs were asked to be made, someone who helped him put his thoughts to words and knew when even that wasn’t necessary, implicitly understanding what he meant without having to give voice to it. If he was to open a dictionary to the word ‘lifesaver’, Peter was pretty sure Gideon’s smiling, radiant face would be looking back at him.

“Okay, okay, so maybe not the dueling club and not Quidditch either, unless they got an opening for professional fanboy,” here, a nudge was made to the boy’s ribs which then required retaliation and then another and another until eventually Madam Pince came up behind them to tell off. “You can try out the gardening club. Fab’s there so you’ll at least have a familiar face around you.”

“I forgot we even had that club. Do they, like… do I have to deal with Mandrakes?”

An eyeroll. “Peter.”

“Gideon.”

“What?”

“… mandrakes?”

“You know how I feel about-…”

“Fine, yes, there will be Mandrakes, but unless they’re out of the pot and grown, they’re not going to kill you.”

“Yeah, but-…

“Peter. Just try it. I’ll tell Fabian.”

A pause. “… okay. Remind me to write my mum about it, she’ll just die knowing that all those hours wasted around her flowers are being put to good use. And thanks, Gid.

I dunno what I’d do without you.”

( eleven ) –

Peter Pettigrew didn’t know what he expected when he’d boarded the train on Platform 9 and ¾ - his father hadn’t told him stories of his time in Hogwarts because he didn’t tell any stories at all - but it definitely wasn’t that he’d instantly make three friends when they’d barged into his compartment, briefly asked if he had anyone else around and quickly made themselves settled into the empty seats, and it also definitely wasn’t that they’d still remain by his side even after all that, the four of them crossing the lake together while one of the boys jokingly stuck his hand into the water in the hopes that a supposed giant squid would cart him off to the magical water castle underneath the real castle. As he stood there in the crowd of equally anticipating eleven year olds, he took another glance at them and smiled to himself, feeling for the first time like he had some hope after all and that this wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d thought. He was still homesick and he wished as all hell that his mum was there next to him now to hold his hand and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but the encouraging smiles that he got from his newfound friends were enough to compensate for now.

Finally, when his name was called, he stiffened, finding himself stuck in place until he got shoved to the end of the steps by two pairs of hands, their snickering barely contained. He almost collapsed with the way that his knees shook as he made his way up the two, three steps to the harmless stool that stood at the middle of the platform, the rattiest looking hat imaginable sat on top of it. With one more glance at the professor who stood, waiting to plop the hat on his head, he sat with hands gripping the side of the stool so hard his knuckles were practically translucent. Which was lucky, because the hat suddenly sprung into life and twisted his head to the side, making him squeak and jump and almost fall off his chair if he hadn’t been holding on like his life depended on it.

“Ah! Pettigrew, Pettigrew… ah yes, your father, hmmm…”

There were questions at the tip of his tongue, dying to be asked, but he couldn’t give voice to them because he was too scared of what the outcome would be. It hit him how ridiculous it was that a talking hat could possibly know more about his father than the own son did. He wanted so badly to still be with his friends, but did they even allow kids to choose which house they should go to? Wasn’t that the whole point of having a sorting, so they’d sort you out instead of you doing that for yourself?

“Oh, I see. Made friends already, haven’t you? Yes, loyal friends indeed they are… but you are your father’s son, a Slytherin’s son….”

Still, he made no sound, maintain his look forward as he spotted one of the boys - Remus, he thought his name was, he remembered because he’d been the one to warn him about the chocolate frogs and had gotten berated for it by the other two boys because they were waiting for him to get a shock when he opened it - sitting at the Gryffindor table, their eyes meeting and Remus giving him a thumbs up for it. Already, he could feel himself warming up to him, to Sirius and James, to people who reminded him of home but also not of it, of so much more beyond it.

“You won’t even say anything, would you, boy? You don’t have to, I can see it, I can see your heart and what it wants. Oh, it wants so many things, things you haven’t even begun to know yet but already it wants it… and this house would be the only one to satisfy it, yes. Better be… Gryffindor!”

It took half a minute before he realized that he’d been sorted and another to get him to move, mouth gaping as he processed what had just happened. The words of the hat still rang in his ears, but it all got drowned out when James and Sirius ran up to him as he made his way down, clapping him on the shoulder and all but pushing him to Remus’ smiling face.

( two ) –

Object permanence: the understanding that objects continue to exist even when they cannot be observed.

At two years old, psychology says a child should have already grasped this, but rarely did they talk about the how.

A toy taken from his hand and hidden at the back of his head still exists.

A piece of food spooned to his mouth, while only momentarily, still exists.

A resentment buried for the sake of a child one of two never wanted in the first place, no matter how hard the attempt to suppress, still exists.

But what of a father? If a man was there one day and gone the next, bags in hand and shouting about never coming back, if a man left with a son too young to remember that he was ever there at all,

does he still exist?

( one ) –

“Are you absolutely sure? We know the papers we gave you already stated this, but he is still pretty weak, he was born premature, you see, so it’s going to be a lot of work from here on out, and we haven’t had the chance to-…”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure, he’s the one, right, Roger?”

“Whatever you say, Amelia.”

“Well, if you’re sure, then follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew, so we can finalize the paper work.”

“What’s his name?”

“Peter.”

CONNECTIONS

the marauders; the gift of family. being raised by a single mother in a poor area of london was all peter knew before coming to hogwarts. it was always like that, him and his mum - his father had been out of the picture since before he came into the world. he grew up sheltered against everything, his mother’s heartbreak and fear of trusting people casting a shadow onto his own life. she kept a tight hold onto him, as peter was the only one she could love and love her in return without fear that he would also leave her. he didn’t know any better as a boy, the life of just he and his mother the one reality he knew. the letter on the doorstop announcing his acceptance into hogwarts was what changed everything for him, though. it was a scary idea, the chance to step outside the comfortable bubble that had been made for himself - but at the same time, there was a part of him that was exhilarated by the thought of it all - the magic and the learning and the new experiences. and so, despite his mother trying her hardest to keep him from going, he boarded to train to hogwarts that fateful day, that found him seated with three other boys. and just like that, similar to a harsh slap again the back that expelled all the air from his lungs, peter quickly realized just how unprepared he was for this. with sweating palms and short breaths, he’d sat there for a while, suddenly forgetting how to speak or introduce himself. this was a mistake, he told himself. perhaps he could get off and turn around and phone his mother. his thoughts drifted to an escape route, which didn’t last for long, though - as two of the boys were quickly hittingit off and demanding that peter and the other boy with scars covering his face join in immediately. it wasn’t a choice, and with stumbling words, peter somehow found his voice. what a strange and refreshing feeling it was, to speak for himself and not have to rely on permission from his mother or listen to her speak for him. and though it took him a long time to do so, peter slowly found who he was outside of the shadow that had been created for him - instead finding his own way with the support of the three boys that he could easily call his brothers now.

bertha jorkins; the nosy neighbor. considering peter keeps to himself in every chance that he’s given, the fact that bertha has suddenly decided to pay attention to him is a perplexing one. he’s not used to random people attempting to converse with him - especially girls, of all people. but over the past few months, he’s found himself on the receiving end of her questions and her attention. it’s confusing, because it doesn’t seem as if she’s trying to befriend him. she finds him in the courtyard or in the library and invites herself into his space without permission, armed with an extensive list of questions about what he’s doing and where his friends are and what he’s been up to recently. if there’s one word that could easily describe bertha, it’s that she’s persistent. once she gets an idea in her head, or once she hears the slightest bit of gossip about a person, she refuses to let it go until she has the absolute truth - or until something newer and bigger has come along. bertha knows quite a bit about what’s going on around the school, the well kept secrets and the dirty laundry. she knows of what the teachers will whisper about one another in the corridors after class, and she’ll be the first to hear about relationship news. but there’s one secret within the confines of hogwarts that’s managed to escape her for this long. for the past years, the issue of remus lupin’s lycanthropy has stayed within the realm of a number of people that could be counted on less than two hands. with stories woven out of stretched truths and fallacies, as well as other people bending over backwards in an attempt to protect remus from the inconceivable idea of the rest of the school finding out what he truly was. however, bertha jorkins has begun to catch on and piece the clues together, and although she could easily try to latch on to james or sirius or even remus himself in an attempt to get to the bottom of what it all means, she’s instead found the means to the end in peter. and although peter knows that keeping remus’ secret is essentially why he went through the trouble of becoming an animagi and going through everything that he did with the marauders, bertha is extremely intimidating.

gideon prewett; the lifeline. meeting the marauders was a bit of a fluke, something that he still needs to pinch himself from time to time to believe that it did. but gideon prewett is a different story. where the marauders all just sort of ended up together in multiple ways - there was no question that the four of them could go through all that and not end up coming out brothers. it was easy and comfortable, and thankfully peter didn’t have to worry about interacting as much as people typically did when making friends. he’d never done so as a child for this reason, because words that he’d come up with in his head just never seemed to come out the same way upon being spoken. and people didn’t seem to have the patience to stick around and understand why this happened or how things worked like this. that is, before gideon prewett came along. in their first year, they were seated next to one another in more than half of their classes. rather than try to talk to gideon, peter went for the quiet route, not wanting to embarass himself. he was convinced gideon would be thankful for this, for not having to be saddled with the uncomfortable conversations that were bound to happen. but when gideon kept trying to talk to him, it left peter beyond unnerved, because he had no idea why. months passed, with peter still saying nothing and wondering when gideon would get tired of it and give up. gideon might’ve been a good person, sure - but it could’ve only lasted so long before he became frustrated. but it never came. gideon kept at it, talking to peter in every class, taking notes for him when he wasn’t there, requesting peter as his partner, suggesting they work on homework together. eventually, peter gave in and started to finally converse with him. things continued on, peter waiting for something to screw it all up - but finding himself becoming more and more comfortable around gideon. it was a new feeling, to have something happen and want to share it with one person and that one person alone - but that’s exactly how it was. as their final year is approaching, peter considers gideon one of his closest friends - perhaps on a different level as the marauders, but there’s one curiosity that still remains - whether they’re truly friends, or if this is something that peter has looked too far into.

amelia bones; the shunned. as a young boy, peter would often sit and listen to his mother go on about how the man that was his father was a horrible person, about how all men were terrible and couldn’t be trusted - except her baby boy, of course. and so her irrational fears of heartbreak and mistrust were thrust upon a boy that didn’t deserve it and didn’t know any better, but what else could peter have done? peter never met his father, never even knew his name or what he looked like or what he did. his mother refused to speak of unless it was in a litany of curses and horrible names. for this reason, as peter grew older, he knew that falling in love and giving your heart to someone else wasn’t worth the pain that might’ve come along with it. seeing what it did to his mother was something that he was sure he didn’t want to experience for himself. this only became more and more clear to him as he saw what it did to other people - especially gideon. hearing his broken voice explain to peter what had happened between him and amelia left peter speechless. he was person who felt emotions vibrantly, felt the waves and the swells of feelings as they came and went, and the rolling sadness that seemed to be vibrating off of gideon was almost unbearable. he didn’t understand, because now that he’d gotten to know gideon - six years behind them as friends - he didn’t know how in the world someone could be a part of gideon’s life and then simply toss him aside as amelia had. especially after claiming to have loved him. perhaps he was biased because he looked favorably upon gideon already, as if he could do no wrong - or perhaps it was the sinking distrust of affection and romance that was settling back in. but his opinion of amelia bones became jaded in that moment. he’d only exchanged words with her a few times here and there - but that was more than enough. he’d heard plenty about her to understand that she wasn’t someone he was fond of. and although he’s not as brazen as james or sirius, who would’ve confronted her or asked her what her problem was, peter came dream of the moment when he’s ready to do something like that while shooting angry glares at the back of her head.

PETER PETTIGREW IS PORTRAYED BY JAMES REID, AND HE IS TAKEN BY KOKO.

#peter pettigrew #marauders rp #marauders era rp #hp rp #harry potter rp #peterbio #maraudersbio #closed

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