#the inescapable march of time? laughingstock

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Dude what if you drew more Barnaby in suspenders art, that would be kinda bonkers. (You don't have to)

it would be absolutely insane you're so right. you know what would be crazier

if it was Laughingstock

#that didnt make sense but at this point everything is laughingstock to me #suspenders? laughingstock. that dead fly in the corner? laughingstock #the inescapable march of time? laughingstock #HAHA ANYWAY BARDABY IN SUSPENDERS AM I RITE #in my mind they just barely managed to pull off winning a Very outnumbered fight #you know its gettin crazy when barnaby shucks the vest #unfortunately it has the side affect of lowering howdy's concentration (on the fight) #(he is still very much concentrating just. on something other than surviving) #rambles from the bog #scribble salad #wh fantasy au #the most insane thing here tho #is that this is probably the best howdy ive ever scribbled #and the Worst barnaby #but ive given up on trying to fix his face so this is what yall get lmao

[nevillelongsbottom]

rehearsals

pairing: ron x blaise x neville

word count: 1,125

links:

for the @hptriadsnet secret santa: happy holidays, @rose-grangerweasleyisbae!

-

Neville has never kissed anybody before.

Neville has, in fact, never even given much thought to his sexuality before; but the script in front of him dictates that he’s going to have to kiss Blaise, and he can’t say that he even particularly feels negatively about it. He’s just nervous because no doubt Blaise is a fantastic and experienced kisser, and Neville is a wet blanket.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Ron says. “It’s not that hard.”

Neville is not so convinced. He keeps stuttering over his lines that stray too close to the stage direction they kiss; Blaise shoots him a look every time as if knowingly, which serves only to make Neville chatter horribly through all of his reads. In fact, by the time Blaise deems them ready to move on to standing up and staging, Neville has probably proven himself only as a woefully incompetent actor worthy of nothing. He knew he should’ve taken Media instead. Neville can’t act - and, worse still, he can barely hold on to the bad Irish accent he’s forced to do. His native Leeds is inescapable. Blaise is never best pleased with him.

Then again, Blaise is never best pleased with anyone. He’s shouted his way through almost every rehearsal, picking apart Ron and Neville’s fairly listless performances to the last detail, trying to encourage some enthusiasm in them that’s hard to muster for two boys interested only in passing, and not by the margin passed. Neville feels bad, in a way. Blaise is a good actor, and is just evil and angry enough to be a good director - but even with Neville trying to constantly practice at home and Ron working up as much emotion in his voice as he possibly can, they can’t compete. Neville and Ron are turning Blaise into a laughingstock.

“Well, I mean,” Ron scoffs one lunchtime in one of the drama rehearsal rooms. “I’m doing my bloody best. Sorry it’s not good enough for Stalin over there.”

“He’s not that bad,” Neville says softly.

“You’re just trying to make him seem nicer so you’re not so disgusted when you have to kiss him,” Ron says testily. But Neville’s not so sure. “You can, like - kiss me first, if you want. For practice. So your first kiss doesn’t have to be him.” Ron looks away as he says it, flustered by his courage.

Neville dismisses the idea, flushing, and lets the days march on until the first proper rehearsal with staging and costumes. Not that Neville’s costume is anything more than just his casual clothes, but this is the rehearsal where he has to kiss Blaise for the first time, and even Blaise decides to address his nerves this time.

“Neville,” he says. “It’s fine. It’s just the three of us right now, and trust me when I say that no-one now or at the class performance will be judging your kissing abilities.”

“But everyone will remember if I fuck it up!”

“You can’t fuck it up, Neville. It’s kissing. Technically, it’s biologically hardwired.”

“I could fuck anything up, trust me.”

“Neville,” Blaise sighs. “Have some faith, darling, or you’ll never get any better at anything.” Without warning, which Neville supposes he’s glad of, Blaise takes Neville’s face into his hands and kisses him; Neville freezes with shock, and absolute inexperience, but finds himself acting on an impulse, kissing back, and when Blaise breaks away, his hands are touching Blaise’s waist. Neville blushes fiercely. “See? You weren’t so bad after all.”

“I don’t know about that,” Neville says bashfully, and Blaise swats at him with his copy of the script.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yes!”

In truth, Neville thinks he probably liked that kiss a little more than he expected to. He knows that kissing is nice, and he knows that he’s gay, but - he wonders, as rehearsals draw to a close, if maybe he likes Blaise in a way beyond just being casual acquaintances. He knows he has no chance with someone so beautiful and popular, so he supposes that it’s okay to tell Ron - they’ve practically shared their whole life stories since starting the play, and if there’s anyone he can complain to, it’s him.

Ron groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Oh, my God, me too. It’s gross. He’s gross. But - so pretty. And so out of our leagues. And I want to hate him so much because he’s such a prick but I just kinda bloody love it. I wish I was getting to kiss him. You’re a bastard.”

Neville, as it happens, seems to have been born with more luck than he was expecting: he’s about to leave for home after their last after-school rehearsal, hot on the heels of Ron, when Blaise taps his shoulder and asks him on a date.

Neville hovers. He thinks. He wants to say yes, but he just has this nagging feeling -

“Only if Ron can come,” he says boldly. God, please don’t let this fuck up his date; what possessed him? He begins to think he’s lost himself the date of his dreams when Blaise laughs.

“What, so we’re a triad instead of a couple?”

“If that’s okay.”

“That sounds like the dream,” Blaise purrs, tucking a strand of Neville’s hair behind his ear. “We’ll plan this tomorrow, then. After the performance.” Neville nods, and is only half surprised when Blaise leans down to kiss him; now, he lets himself expect it, lets his thoughts be wild and bold and more daring than before.

The performance, all in all, doesn’t go too badly - Blaise reckons they should all scoop good grades for it as they walk to the bathroom to change back into their uniforms. “For my directorial debut,” he says, “it wasn’t too bad at all.”

“For the crowd,” Ron adds. “What about for us?”

“Isn’t a date enough recompense?”

“A date?” Ron glances over wildly at Neville, who beams and nods. “Oh, blimey. Well, maybe. But it might take two to pay back all that. Hard work doesn’t come cheap!”

Blaise laughs again; he has a brilliant laugh, distinctive but not silly, clearly just the laugh of someone enjoying themselves. “Two dates sounds better than one,” he says, and shuts himself in a stall.

Ron rushes Neville so fast that this kiss is completely unexpected, and so fast Neville barely even gets to lean into it, a fact he rectifies by kissing Ron back.

“You beautiful bastard,” Ron whispers. “Two dates! Two dates, with the two of you - Jesus, that’s it, my life has peaked now.” And with that, he disappears into another stall, leaving Neville to ruminate on his reflection and wonder how far his faith could take him, if he applied himself.

#omg sorry the formatting is a disaster but i'm not a home so i'm on mobile #hp #i write shit #hptriadsnet #ron x neville x blaise