#mr hunham
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Back to the Night We Met - Chapter 2
After an awkward first encounter, you try and get back in Angus' good graces.
I had made myself scarce for the next day, only really encountering the others when necessary at mealtimes or right before falling asleep in the cold, dark infirmary.
I hated it. I felt like my initial failings had only managed to continue into the next day, when i could barely make eye contact with the others. I’d learned their names at least. The sour-faced blonde was Teddy Koutnze, and while he didn’t really seem- to me at least- very physically intimidating, he had a way of irritating the rest of us, and when Mary snapped at him over dinner, nobody said a word. Then there was Jason Smith, a mild mannered wealthy son of some business guy, practising civil disobedience by not cutting his hair, and therefore missing out on winter vacation. The two youngest were Alex, a mormon kid who’s parents were away on missionary, and Ye-Joon, a korean kid who couldn’t fly to see his family. Then there was Angus, who i’d regretfully embarrassed myself in front of only the day before. It didn’t bother me so much to run into Teddy as much as it did running into Angus, who’s snarky and annoyed attitude made me feel incredibly nervous. My avoidance of them all (except really for the younger boys) did not go unnoticed.
I was passing time in the expansive library certainly better than the one i’d been used to, when I encountered Mr Hunham doing his rounds.
“Oh! There you are.” He’d said. I gave a shy sort of wave. I was halfway through my copy of Catcher in the Rye when he’d arrived.
“You know, if the young philistines back there (pointing towards the hall) are giving you any trouble, you don’t have to stand for it, i know how utterly undignified some of them may be.” This had made me laugh slightly, only because it couldn’t be further from the reality, and it was the second time i’d been approached with this concern.
“No, no honestly they’ve been…. accomodating” i recall the help i’d gotten from Angus yesterday with a slight wince.
“Sincerely? Well-colour me surprised. I didn’t think they had it in them.” He expressed with a surprised look. I’d of thought Mr Hunham would’ve been a much nastier person, considering the disparaging ways the boys talked about him late at night. He was actually quite kind, and respectful, i’d noticed how much care he paid to Mary especially.
“Yeah, Angus even helped me with my bag yesterday.” I could see his expression turn to a slight shock, followed by a grin.
“Really? i- wow.” He gave me a nod of acknowledgement before turning and leaving, undoubtedly to go back to monitoring the boys, now with the newfound idea that they may not be entirely without saving.
Unsurprisingly, it took a lot to move me from my place in the library’s old leather couch. I’d even found a soft blanket that i’d used to cover myself, somehow avoiding Hunham’s exercise sessions, though his voice echoed through the walls. ”Without exercise the body devours itself!” I’d heard him cheer. It wasn’t until later in the evening, still in the library, trying to finish my copy of Emma, when i’d encounter another student.
He’d waddled in, perhaps not seeing me at first, after all i was pretty quiet. I watched him over the nose of my book, huffing angrily, and slumping down at one of the couches across the library hall. Angus. I didn’t dare approach him, he looked pretty upset already, but just as i was thinking so, he saw me. A silent exchange, i can only imagine i’d looked as startled as he did.
I noticed the small wound on his cheek had been patched up with a small band-aid, and an associated rip in his sweater had been stitched over.
“Have you been in here all day?” His tone is more accusatory than i would’ve hoped. His anger from whatever he’d been putting up with was seeping through.
“I may have… i mean, i went to go see Mary in the morning.”
He just nods with a huff. “And Wall-eye isn’t on your ass?”
I shake my head “I saw him. I let him know you helped me with my bags yesterday, he.. looked surprised.”
He just rolls his eyes, i don’t push it further. I know they all hate Hunham, he’s tough on them, a fan of discipline and ancient philosophy makes for a particularly tough chaperone.
“What’re you reading?” I hear him mumble after a minute.
“Emma. Jane Austen?” I watch as he studies the cover of the book, still seeming a little shaken up. “Right yes… matchmaker.” I nod with a slight smile, he’d read it.
“So… i see you got patched up.” i say, pointing to his bandaid. “yeah… fuckin’ koutnze…”
“What happened?” I press the topic gently, in a way I wanted to know if it was something more serious or just general scuffling between boys.
“I.. had this picture- in my luggage” He sees my expression change to confusion as he mentions luggage, if he was staying over, why had he packed up luggage?
“I wasn’t, actually supposed to be here. My mom decided the only time of the year she gets to see me would be the perfect time for a honeymoon with my new stepdad.”
God, what a shit situation, i think to myself, though i only manage to get out ‘im so sorry…’
He brushes it off with a wave of the hand, “Its me and my parents when i was a kid. Koutnze took it, i know he did, but he refuses to give it back.” He grumbles.
I wonder to myself if i can get it back…. i should. It would mean the exchange between Angus & i would be fair, and hopefully it could help us move on from our awkward first impression.
“What a dick….” I say with a scowl, met by Angus’ own.
“I know right.” I see him pick up my copy of Catcher In the Rye and we read together for another hour until we were called to dinner, and back to the infirmary.
A fair few of the boys were using the showers, and the ones that weren’t were outside, looking for Alex’s lost red mitten. I take this fruitful opportunity to find that picture, hoping it would bring me into Angus’ good graces, and restore a little of his faith back into this holiday.
After a quick and careful scavenge through Teddy Koutnze’s luggage, i find a small compartment, something that had been cut out in the side of his suitcase. A secret pocket of sorts, and low and behold, i reach in, and out comes the picture. It was unmistakeably Angus, though ten years younger, his stark and angular features, and soft brown eyes confirmed it in my mind. I slip the picture into my pocket and leave his things as i’d found them.
I left to find Angus, and just as i’d expected, he was in the midst of comforting poor Alex in the courtyard outside, who’s mitten was found, but had a small tear near the thumb. I approach them both. “look, it’s okay, Mary’s probably got some thread, i’m sure she’d be happy to fix it.” He says in a soft tone, patting the young kid on the back.
“Hey, do you mind if we talk for a minute?” I say quietly, meeting his gaze. To this he reassures Alex, and gets up, following me a few paces over.
I take the small, polaroid-like picture out of my pocket and hand it to him, watching his expression light up.
“You actually- you found it! How… where?” I was glad to finally see Angus happy for the first time since i’d arrived. “Some secret pocket in his suitcase… fucker is sneaky”.
“Thank you… really thank you.” He says sincerely, tucking the pocket inside his winter jacket. I shrug it off but internally i’m beaming “Of course.”
#angus tully fic#angus tully x reader#angus tully#the holdovers fic#the holdovers#paul giamatti#mr hunham#mary lamb#da'vine joy randolph#dominic sessa
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This is my teacher. Today's his 44th birthday. He's celebrating it at the afterlife though.
O captain, My Captain, Mr. Pagangpang, Sir, you will be missed.
#o captain my captain#dead poets society#the perks of being a wallflower#the holdovers#Matilda#harry potter and the prizoner of azkaban#prodigal son#my little pony#every child is special#john keating#bill anderson#mr anderson#paul hunham#mr Hunham#todd anderson#charlie kelmeckis#angus tully#best teacher ever#english teacher#teacher's day#teacher and student#inspiring teachers#spilled thoughts#coming of age#spilled poetry#the poet#carpe diem#seize the day#44th birthday
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just father figures staring at their surrogate sons with all of the pride and admiration and affection in the world
#can’t stop thinking about this parallel#todd defending keating to cameron vs angus defending hunham to kountze…yeah#just sad gay boys and their dads#dead poets society#the holdovers#todd anderson#john keating#mr. keating#angus tully#paul hunham#mr. hunham#found family#anderperry#neil perry
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Sometimes you need to hear it said out loud that the end that you think is so near is not actually the end.... that THIS is not the end, but only the beginning of your one wild and precious life
#the holdovers#second watch left me SHOOK y'all i cried when mr hunham talked to angus post-asylum visit
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Just watched the Holdovers, just give me a moment
#cyber rambles#the holdovers#related a bit too much to Mr. Hunham#It was a very good movie#I should have watched it a month ago
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just finished watching the holdovers 🤧 the found family of it all got me in a chokehold <3 this movie had me laughing, tearing up, etc. I really enjoyed it :)
#c#🎥#also i get why y'all enjoyed dominic's acting#was dying at the scene where he was in the backseat after dislocating his shoulder yelling at mr. hunham
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i’ve had this scenario banging around in my head since the movie came out but imagine a fic where the reader has a massive crush on angus but they see him kissing elise at the christmas party 😭 like i loooveee angst and i would write this fic myself but i lost my last neuron when i fell off an electric scooter and got a concussion 😔
oh no concussion!! :( i'm so sorry about that honey, hopefully this'll make up for that!//word count: 2.1k, tw for grief/loss
You couldn't help but notice the way Angus grinned when Ms. Crane said her niece's name. It was a real smile, not the firm, thin thing that he had given you at lunch— you supposed that he hated being stuck at Barton as much as you did, maybe even hating you in the process. Being the only girl at Barton was hard, but especially at the holidays, when you really felt like your choices were the school or a fucking grave. It hurt, sure, but that smile on Angus's face hurt worse.
Elise pulled both you and Angus into the basement, where children sat, doing crafts with paste and glitter and pom-poms, and you smiled at one of the little girls, playing a popsicle stick as a little doll. You heard Angus and Elise talking to each other as they crossed the room, and you lifted your eyes to him just in time to watch him raise his arms in a silly pose and pull a goofy face. You almost started to laugh at him, as per usual when Angus was doing his antics, but Elise laughed first. Her laugh was gentle, her eyes bright, and your heart sank. She really was beautiful, and she was creative and knew whatever painting Angus was talking about. She was something that you weren't, and you sighed gently. And, based on the way that Angus reacted to her, he wanted what she had.
You took to playing with the little girls, keeping an eye out for Angus and Elise across the room. He didn't look at you one single time, keeping his gaze on her the whole time, spreading paint around the page with his long, thin fingers. You tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked, and you looked at the pair just in time to watch Elise lean over the table and press her lips to Angus's mouth.
Your heart stopped and your mouth went dry. Of course. After everything, all the time you spent with him, the tells of friendship and maybe more that was building throughout the vacation, he still chose her over you. Would anyone ever choose you? Even at your old school, you were cast aside, forgotten. You thought that there was something with Angus, little flirtations and lingering glances, you could have sworn there was something there, but apparently not. You rubbed your lips together and lowered your eyes, feeling hot tears prick to the surface, and you quickly got up from the short table and made your way upstairs. You needed the bathroom, or the kitchen, or somewhere where there wasn't other people.
Unluckily for you, as you pushed into the kitchen, you heard a shuddering sob, and you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Mary Lamb bent over the counter, crying. Danny, the janitor, who you had interacted with a handful of times, stood in the corner, obviously wanting to help her but not wanting to aggravate her.
"Mary?" you mumbled. "Everything okay?" Even in your upset state, you hated to see the strong and smart Mary in a bad moment. If she was crying, something was wrong.
She said nothing, drawing in a breath and weeping, and your heart clenched. You turned back out of the kitchen, going in search of Mr. Hunham, but before you could even think about his whereabouts, you collided straight into Angus's chest. "Oh, hey," he said with a crooked smile. "You disappeared really suddenly; you okay?"
Seeing his stupid smile made your tears return, and you struggled to breathe. You could worry about yourself and your complicated feelings towards Angus later; you needed to worry about Mary. "M-Mary—" you started, pointing towards the kitchen. "She's— Where's Hunham?"
"What about Mary?" Angus asked, looking past you to the swinging door of the kitchen.
"Where is Hunham?" you repeated firmly, and Angus's smile fell.
"I'll go find him," he mumbled, and you turned back to the kitchen without a word. Mary's head was hanging now, her tears dripping on the counter, and you carefully approached her. "Mary?" you started softly. "Do you want some water or something?"
Mary sniffled and shook her head, and you frowned. She obviously didn't want anything, and you took a step back as Angus and Mr. Hunham noisily bustled into the kitchen. One look at her had Hunham closing the door, and Angus stood in the corner, arms crossed, as he watched Hunham lay a hand on Mary's back.
You felt sick as you listened to her sob about her Curtis, the boy you never met but would always admire, and the group of you was quick to grab your jackets and decide to go home. You were glad; if you ever saw Elise again, you might have dropped dead. But, of course, Angus was whinging the whole walk to the car about leaving Elise behind. "I was having a good time!" he complained. "You can take Mary home and pick me up later!"
"Yeah, having a good time sucking Elise's tongue," you scoffed before you could stop yourself, and Hunham's head snapped to you with intensity.
"I can't believe you two," Hunham grunted. "This poor woman is bereft with grief—" Mary interjected that she didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her, but Hunham paid her little mind— "And all you can think about is that silly girl!"
"What did I do?" you gaped. "All I said was—"
"I heard you, miss," Hunham said. "Mary and I are going to get the car, and by the time we get back, you two had better fix whatever this is."
Your face heated up with shame and embarrassment as Mary and Hunham scuttled away, and you couldn't even bare to look at Angus. But you did, and you saw, on his pale and sharp chin, the smallest red mark, a cut, a nick from shaving. "You have a cut on your chin," you mumbled.
"I know!" Angus spat. "What's your fucking problem suddenly?"
"Hey, don't yell at me," you said quickly. "Look, I'm sorry that you're being pulled away from the love of your life or whatever, but you've got to start giving a shit about other people!"
"Like who?" Angus asked. "Like you?"
"Like Mary!" you said, even though your heart was screaming, begging for Angus to see you. For him to really see you, see through your timidness and shyness and see how badly you liked him. "Oh my God, this is her first Christmas without her son; Jesus Christ, at least act like you've got a heart inside your chest!"
"Why do you care so bad about her?" Angus asked. "And, for a matter of fact, why do you care about Elise?"
"Trust me, I couldn't give less of a shit about Elise," you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest in the cold. "But Mary, I... Fuck... My dad died in January. S'why I didn't wanna go home for the break... It would just be me and my mom, alone in our place, not being able to avoid the empty space on the couch where my dad should be. I don't know what Mary's going through, I'll never know how that feels, but... I get it. It hurts like fucking shit, and, like, you'll never understand how that feels because your parents are alive—"
"My dad's dead."
The way Angus venomously spit out his words made you feel rotted inside. "But..." you started. "I thought your dad...? Saint Kitts...?"
"That's just some rich prick my mom married," Angus said.
"So you should get it," you sighed. "The first holiday without family is hard, every day is hard, but Mary... I can't imagine how she feels, and I'm trying to be as sympathetic as possible, try to make it easier for her or something, y'know?"
Angus was quiet for a long moment, pressing the toe of his shoe into a snowy patch on the sidewalk. "I guess I like Elise because she likes me," he said softly. "S'not everyday I find someone who likes me."
"God..." you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. "Is that what that was?"
"Shut up," Angus sneered.
"Hey, easy," you said gently. "Angus, I..." You didn't know what to say to him. You had no idea how to start the conversation, let alone get to where you wanted to be quick enough— Hunham only parked around the corner, he and Mary should be coming back at any second— and you said, "Was that your first kiss? Just then, with her?"
"All-boys schools don't make it easy to find a girl to kiss," Angus mumbled.
You sighed heavily. Your eyes drifted down to a snowbank at the edge of the street, watching it glitter under the streetlamp for a moment, and, before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him and pressed your mouth to his, grabbing his upper arms to keep you upright with your shaking legs. He started for a moment, shocked and surprised, and his hands hovered above your hips, wholly unsure of how to proceed, and you broke the kiss quickly. His owlish eyes stared you down, his mouth open, but he didn't look upset.
"Say something," you whispered, and he let out a breath, the warmth of the air hitting your lips. "Fuck, please, just say something—"
He kissed you again. His hands grabbed your hips and tugged you against him, and you easily looped your arms around his neck and rose up on your tip-toes to reach his height. His lips were warm, if a little dry, and his nose bumped yours as he went to deepen the kiss, his fingers itching in the skirt of your dress. You smiled, unable to control yourself, and Angus did too, pulling away from your mouth.
"Oh," you whispered, and you smoothed your thumb across his top lip, wiping off a little bit of the rosy lipstick that you had worn to the party. "Sorry 'bout that."
"Whatever," Angus said breathlessly, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. "You taste good."
You chuckled lightly, lowering your eyes to his shoes. That shyness returned as your skin flamed, and you worried your bottom lip between your front teeth. "S-So I guess you see why I wasn't too jazzed about Elise," you said, trying to attempt a lightness in your voice.
"I'll say," Angus said. "How long have you liked me?"
"Since I met you?" you squeaked. "Since, um, I got sat in front of you in Hunham's class...? I don't know, it's dumb."
"Nuh-uh, that's not dumb," Angus said. "I've liked you for... I don't know, I guess since that first day too. We had, um, heard that a girl was coming to Barton, and I didn't really care too much, but I heard how much the other guys cared, and it... I don't know, it became a contest on how little I cared. But then I saw you... Heard you laugh... Watched you sneak a cigarette behind the bleachers during a football game..." You laughed, as did Angus, and his big hand came to cup your face, angling you to look at him. "But I think I really, really fell for you when I kissed her."
"Huh?" you asked, wrinkling your nose.
Angus rolled his eyes, obviously a little abashed by his admission. "Listen, I'm a teenage boy, it's in my nature to daydream about you," he started. "I had dreamed about what it would be like to be your boyfriend, to kiss you, to have my first kiss with you... Then, Elise kissed me, and, when I opened my eyes, I was sorta disappointed to see her and not you."
"Oh," you said softly.
"You went upstairs, and I went after you to try to talk to you about that," Angus said. "And then Mary, and... But yeah. I've just been too chickenshit to tell you before now."
"Well..." you whispered, listening to the quiet rumble of Hunham's car come from around the street corner. "Thank God for Elise."
"Don't you ever say her name again," Angus told you, and he leaned down to kiss you again. You were acutely aware of how Hunham and Mary could certainly see you two necking in the middle of the sidewalk, but you didn't care. Hunham said to work it out, and so you had.
The blaring of the old Buick's horn made Angus pull away from you, and you heard the window squeak down before Hunham shouted "Will you two quit and get inside the goddamn car?"
"Take it easy on 'em," Mary said as you slid into the backseat, followed by Angus.
"Yeah," Angus said. "Take it easy on us."
"I don't need your sass, Mr. Tully," Hunham said, glaring at you two in the rearview mirror. "Now I have to find a way to separate you two at night, no more sleeping in the same room, no more..."
You didn't care to hear Hunham's ramblings; you leaned your head on Angus's shoulder, you took his hand in yours, and you closed your eyes. Maybe the rest of break would be okay.
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I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Two
Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader
a/n: Hi guys! Back with chapter two!! Thank you for all the love last chapter! You guys are too sweet! I hope you like this chapter as well, although we get a little angsty in this one oops. Also author note at the end!
Word count: 5k.
Find: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
Enjoy!
December 17, 1970. Still.
Paul Hunham didn’t think his luck could get any worse but then that moron at the Janie Patrick's Girl School had to go make his problems, his. Then at the young lady’s arrival Angus Tully practically had hearts popping out his eyes like those cartoon characters on TV. That would be an issue. An issue he had to deal with at once.
As the boys grumbled and moaned on their way to the infirmary, as if they were the Athenians sent to march to Marathon in 490 BC, he made his way to the kitchen, looking for a certain cook.
“Hello, Mary,” he greets. She sits at her desk with a cigarette between two fingers, writing something down in her notebook.
“Mr. Hunham. I heard you got stuck with babysitting duty this year. How’d you manage that?” Her tone tiptoes on the edge of teasing.
“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I failed someone who richly deserved it.”
“The Osgood kid? Yeah, he was a real asshole. Rich and dumb. Popular combination around here.”
“It’s a plague. Uh, and you? You’ll be here, too?” God, he hopes she is. He doesn’t think he will be able to survive as the only adult on the school grounds.
To his relief she nods her head, “All by my lonesome. My little sister Peggy and her husband invited me to go visit them in Roxbury, but I feel like it’s too soon. Like Curtis will think that I’m abandoning him, you know. This is the last place my baby and I were together, not including the bus station.”
Paul pursues his lips, unsure of what to say. “Well, maybe you won't be completely alone. How would you feel about letting a female student sleep in the staff common room? We could push some couches together, I'm sure. Make a nice bed that way.”
“Female student? What do you mean?”
“I’m unsure about the exact details, but I have been entrusted by the idiots across the lake with taking care of one of their students.”
“Ahh,” Mary is beginning to understand.
He nods, “Her name is Y/n L/n, I think she and Tully are in cahoots somehow. You should've seen the way he looked at her.”
“Oh no, don't do that though. You can’t have that poor girl sleep on a lumpy couch all break. She needs a bed.”
“I just want this whole ordeal to go smoothly. If I can keep those two as far away as possible, I believe all will be well.”
“Please that Tully boy wouldn't try anything. Sometimes he is the only one to say thank you when we place the food down on the lunch tables.”
Paul mulls it over for a second. “I suppose I could give it a try. Not that I think it is wise.”
Mary smiles slightly, “I know those kids are hard to handle but hold out hope for them. Some trust too. It's not too late yet. Their brains are still moldable or whatever corny crap you teachers say.”
Paul smiles slightly, his attention pulled to the bottle of bourbon on her desk, “You mind if I uh…”
“You want some of that? All right.”
“Thank you.”
“You know this is a necessity,” Mary says as she pours the liquid into a mug for him.
“Oh yes,” for life, love, pain or the next two weeks. Paul understands too well.
…
“Put the bed farther away Angus,” you say, your arms on your hips and you watch him struggle to drag his bed closer to yours.
“Why? Do I smell or something?”
“It's already a stretch to think he might let us sleep in the same room, he's definitely not going to let your bed be that close to mine.”
Huffing he begins to scoot it back to its original place, “Fine.”
Music has started blaring loudly from where Teddy and Jason are bunking in. Park and Ollerman are minding their business in their own space. You are across, what you think will be the place Mr. Hunham will stay in. Your hope is that him having an accessible view will make him more lenient towards you and Angus, despite his earlier warning of having you be on your own.
You situate your lavender near the window and begin to unpack your things. Angus does the same and you can hear his rustling get faster.
“What's wrong?” You ask.
“My…” He trails off. Suddenly he storms off like a man on a mission. You ignore the magazine you were flipping through and let it fall on the floor as you get up to follow him.
You see him head directly towards Kountze. “Where’s my photo?”
“What photo?”
“I think you know what photo, and you stole it.”
“I resent that baseless accusation.”
“Give me my goddamn picture!” Angus shouts.
“Hey man, if you took the photo just give it back,” you plead exasperatedly to Teddy, already tired of his whole innocent act.
“Stay out of it Y/n, it's alright,” Angus assures you and you move back to lean against the doorway. You sort of hope Angus socks him.
Kountze leaps to his feet and stalks towards him, “You need your girlfriend to defend you now? Seriously, what's your problem, Tully? Homesick? Maybe the little boy misses his mommy?”
“Fuck you, Kountze. Leave her out of it. And hey, why are you even here anyway? Where’s your family?”
“We’re renovating our house. It’s all torn up. They’re storing the tools and stuff in my room.” “That’s what they told you? It’s winter, idiot. Nobody renovates their house in the winter. Your parents don’t want you around because you’re a fucking insecure sociopath.”
“Hey, take it easy, guys.”
You can see Angus getting angrier. His shoulders are tense and in a last ditch effort you go up to him and whisper in his ear, “Punch him later. In private. Hunham won’t even hear our reasoning for rooming together. He’ll punish you by punishing me.”
Misery loves company, right? That was the saying at least. In your mind, suffering with Angus was better than the alternative. You didn’t want to spend these two weeks inside a glass case. From what you had seen, Hunham would have no problem in making you sit at your own lunch table or study in a separate classroom. You know that is what Ms. Orchard would have done if she was forced to take in the boys. She would have locked you in your dorm and insisted it was because you would “distract” them.
You can see the gears turning in Angus’s mind. He bites the inside of his cheek and finally nods before turning back to glare at Kountze. “You’re an asshole. I just needed you to know that.”
He turns around to retreat back to the room only to run straight into Mr. Hunhams chest. Angus leaps off and leans his back against the wall. Your own eyes widened, you hadn’t even heard the man's footsteps.
He surveys the room and notes all your disheveledness. Teddy's face looks flushed while Angus is still trying to control his heavy breathing. Everyone is completely silent and too scared to even make a move.
“What is going on here?”
“They weren’t fighting,” Alex squeaked. Mr. Hunham only seems to grow more suspicious. He shifted his sights to you and his eyebrow begins to raise, “They weren’t bothering you were they.”
“No. We were just talking,” you swallow the lump in your throat.
“What about?”
“Hmm?” You hum, straightening up.
“What were you all discussing mere seconds before I barged in on what, I am sure, was a highly intellectual conversation.”
“Shocking Blue,” you blurt out and Hunham turns his head as if asking for clarification. “The band that was on the radio.”
“Yeah, we love Shocking Blue,” Angus nods. The rest of the boys chime in, faking their agreement.
“They’re so good.”
“I listen to them all the time.”
Mr. Hunham continues to look unconvinced. Without a word he walks out, and you all collectively let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, you all stare at each other with giddiness. Like when you're a kid and get away with stealing a cookie from the cooling tray. You let yourself relax but shrivel back up upon the echo of Mr. Hunham's haunting voice, “Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n, in here. NOW.”
You frown, gazing up at Angus, “I think he found the room.”
…
After a stern talking to, Mr. Hunham begrudgingly agreed to let you and Angus sleep in the same room. He took a string of jingle bells that hung from a nearby Christmas decoration and tied it around Angus’s bedpost so that if he dared to move, he would hear it. You two were just fine with that.
Later you were escorted to the large dining hall. Mr. Hunham sat at the head of the table as the rest of you indulged in mindless chatter. You and Angus were on your third round of rock, paper, scissors, competing for nothing, when a lady came in to set down a platter of chicken, potatoes and asparagus.
“Lovely. Thank you, Mary.” the older man says.
You wait for the initial rush of grubby hands and pushing elbows to pass before you serve yourself, when you find that Angus already did it for you. He sets down the plate in front of you and then gets himself a serving of the green vegetable on his own dish.
“Didn’t we already have this for lunch?” Jason asks.
“And it was crappy then,” Teddy says through his eager chewing. You gag at the scene.
“Consider yourselves lucky. During the third Punic campaign, 149-146 B.C., the Romans laid siege to Carthage for three entire years. By the time it ended, the Carthaginians were reduced to eating sand and drinking their own urine. Hence the term punitive.”
The woman from earlier, that you now know is Mary, returns with some water. You give her a passing smile which she returns.
“Mary, maybe you’d, um, maybe you would care to join us,” Hunham stumbles through his words.
Kountze looks up from his food then glances at you with alarm. Like he can't fathom the idea of sitting with the cook.
You think Mary can sense his disdain when you notice her demeanor sour after a glimpse in his direction. “No, I’m all right. Thank you.” She escapes through the kitchen doors.
Teddy pipes up, “I mean, I know she’s sad about her son and everything, but still, she’s getting paid to do a job. And she should do it well, right?”
The chewing and scraping of silverware halts. You and Angus gauge each other's reaction, both of you completely shocked and slightly horrified. That boy for some reason just never knows when to shut up and continues, “But I guess no matter how bad a cook she is, now they can never fire her.”
“Will you shut up!” Mr. Hunham yells loud enough for you to flinch. He slams his fork and knife down. “You have no idea what that woman has… For most people, Mr. Kountze, life is like a henhouse ladder -- shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don’t, I feel sorry for you, and we will not have done our jobs. Now eat!”
…
You're on your bed and catching up on some reading and soaking in the orange hue that the bedside lamp offers you. The boys are still getting ready for bed, and you were graciously offered the first shift in the showers. You’re waiting for your hair to dry when Angus walks in with his pajamas on, and a towel draped over his shoulders.
“You look very dapper,” You smirk.
“Thank you,” he plops down into his mattress. “You think Walleye is still mad?”
“Probably. I don’t blame him.”
“It made for a pretty awkward evening though.”
“Not one of the worst dinners I ever had. I’d rather endure another night like this than any dinner with my parents.”
“Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Your parents... You never did tell me the reason why you’re here holding over.”
You shuffle around in your bed and bring your blanket up to your neck, “Doesn’t matter.”
“Come on, it's just me now. Tell me. I told you!”
“It's no big reason, just small ones. They didn’t specify. I didn’t want to go home. It's complicated.”
“Okay you just gave like four different excuses right there. What happened? Is it super embarrassing? Did they forget about you or something,” he laughs.
You wince at his words and pray that the world opens up and swallows you whole. Realization dawns on his face, “Oh shit. Did they?”
You nod solemnly and begin picking on the thread of the blanket, trying to make the threading come undone.
“How could they do that? The same assholes who always make a huge deal about RSVPs and invitations. Seriously?”
“It’s alright. I’ll live. I mean what would I have done if I was there? I’d be in my room and waiting for them to drag me out so they could introduce me to people. They’d act like doting parents, ditching me a second later to play blackjack with their friends.”
“I’m sorry. I wish you would have told me, we could’ve… I could have done something.”
You smile, “I didn’t tell you cause I know you. You would’ve cursed them out the minute you had hold of them. Anyways, maybe it was faith to get stranded at Barton.”
“Or bad luck,” he quips, “maybe the universe wants us to die of mundanity together.”
“Either or,” you grin. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let's go to bed.”
Angus nods and spreads his long limbs across the bed exaggeratingly before turning to face the wall. “Whatever you want. Goodnight, Y/n.”
“Goodnight,” you go to turn off the lamp, wondering if you're being paranoid in sensing something off in the way he says your name.
…
December 20, 1970
The last few days had been the same grueling routine. Mr. Hunham would wake you up with the banging of bedpans and you would groan and try to shove yourself deep into your pillows.
“All right, you fetid layabouts,” he would say, “It’s daylight in the swamp. Arise!”
In the quad you were all forced to run laps. You hadn’t anticipated doing exercise, so you were forced to wear some joggers from the lost and found. You had been able to convince him that walking would be better suited for you and your imaginary cramps. His face had completely paled, and he hadn’t even let you finish speaking when he said you walking would be just fine. Men and their immaturity, you think.
When Angus and the rest of the boys would pass by you, he would glare jokingly at you while you would stick your tongue out and wave him goodbye as he flew past you.
During study hall, you would read some more and ignore the ongoing feud between Kountze and Angus. In the span of the last few days, you must have read three entire books. There was a lot of downtime in between recreational time with Mr. Hunham and dinner.
Today you had all decided to walk along the river. You can hear the church bells in the distance signaling the fact that it is the afternoon. Angus is swinging around a branch while Teddy and Jason pass around a football. You steer clear of both. You walk in sync with Alex and Ye-Joon. You’ve taken a liking to them. They remind you of the little sibling you always wanted but never got.
“What about your car?” Angus suggests, “We could take it, go somewhere. Boston maybe.” Jason shakes his head, “Nah, we’d get in so much trouble. Face it. We’re stuck.”
“If we just had some way to get out of here. Just split,” Angus kicks a pile of snow.
“Well, you could put a chopper down right in the Quad.”
“A what?”
“A helicopter, dumb ass,” Teddy snaps, “His old man’s CEO of Pratt & Whitney.”
“Got his own bird,” Jason confirms, “Takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our backyard. Pilot’s name, Wild Bill.”
“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon awes.
“Yeah. Flew up to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me,” he shrugs.
“Flying with presents, like Santa Claus,” Alex comments with glee.
“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”
Jason whistles and tilts his head for Teddy to “go long.” They play catch, getting farther from the group as they go.
“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar,” Alex reminisces. You smile sadly at the boy.
“That sounds so nice,” Ye-Joon agrees.
Kountze runs back suddenly and grabs one of Alex’s gloves and throws it into the river.
“What's wrong with you?” You intervene.
“Hey!” Alex says simultaneously.
“That’s what you get for ratting me out, little Mormon,” Teddy laughs, not an ounce of regret at what he just did. You tap Angus’s shoulder as you go trailing after the young boy, “I’m going to go help.”
“It’s gone! My glove’s gone!” Ollerman shouts. You continue searching for it through the clearing.
“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose. Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more,” Angus shouts back.
Ollerman looks to be on the verge of tears. He stares down at his hands and starts walking down a snowy ramp. He throws the other glove before you can do anything to stop it. He watches it disappear downstream as you make your own way down.
“Did your mother make you that?”
He nods. “It’s alright. I know where he keeps his wallet. We’ll steal it and buy a new one.”
You manage to bring out a muffled laugh from him. You consider it a win.
…
Angus wakes up in the middle of the night to see you knitting. He gets up from the bed to see your progress.
“Oh hello, grandma,” he scoffs. “When did you learn to do that?”
“Girl scouts before I quit. You guys had a bunch of yarn just rotting behind your auditorium stage. Did you know that?”
“No? Are you making that for the kid?”
“Yeah, I feel bad.”
“That looks like crap,” Angus chuckles as he messes around with the gloves fingers. You swat his hand away.
“I never said I earned the badge. Besides, it's the thought that counts.”
“I’m going to get a glass of water. You want some?”
“No thanks.”
Angus leaves the room, only to return a couple seconds later.
“Ye-Joon is crying,” he whispers. You furrow your eyebrows and get up to follow him. His cries become louder, and you turn the corner to see the poor boy shivering.
“Are you all right?” You ask.
“I had a nightmare,” You crouch down so you can hear him better.
“Don’t worry we get nightmares too. Right Angus?”
“Yeah, I’m always falling. Or drowning.”
“Also, I had an accident,” he weeps.
You motion for Angus to check. He doesn't have to look far.
“Yeah, you did. Shhh. Stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”
“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends,” he sobs full-on. You hush him gently.
“You have plenty of time to make friends. You’re like a freshman, right? I would start worrying when you're fifty and living vicariously through your kids.”
“Yeah man. You could have a thousand friends and not like any of them. What would be the point of having them then,” Angus adds.
“We’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right?” You wipe his tears with a tissue from a Kleenex box nearby. “Find a dry spot and try to get some sleep.”
“Thank you,” Park smiles consoled. Before going back to bed you ask him one last thing, “Hey do you like gloves?”
Ye-Joon gives you a quizzical look.
…
December 22, 1970
Once again, you’re all studying in silence in a fancy room with portraits of dead white guys on the wall.
Mr. Hunham clears his throat loudly and Jason leans in to mutter in disgust, “Are you kidding me? It’s only eleven and he’s already lit. I can smell the whiskey on him.”
“Can you blame him? It’s freezing in here. It’s fucking Greenland in here,” Angus retorts.
From outside you hear the faint whirring of a machine. Not a car but something else. You all approach the window and spot the helicopter flying above the trees. It lands in the quad just like Jason had said it could. An older man steps out and he looks like one of the men you imagine roam Wall Street.
“He finally caved, the big softie!” Smith exclaims. He all but skips to the door and turns to you all, “Hey, any of you guys like to ski?”
You and Hunham stay behind as the rest go racing after him, filled with hope for what must be the first time in days. He goes to subdue the riot they make as they whoop down the hall, but you stop him by grabbing a hold of the end of his sleeve.
“Uh, sir? If Jason is inviting us, would you have to call our parents?”
“That would be proper protocol, yes.”
“Oh. Is there a way I could stay here then? I never cared for skiing and my parents would say no anyway.”
“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I’d have to ask Woodrup about this first. Come on along,” he clears the path for you.
Grumbling, you find your way to the administrative offices. Hunham, Jason and his father shut themselves in a room. The boys along with Angus all try to listen in on the conversation by pressing their face as close as humanly possible against the glass. You watch from the sideline as Jason gives you guys a thumbs up. The hallway erupts in cheers and a minute later Mr. Hunham steps out with an announcement, “Gentlemen, good news. I was able to reach Dr. Woodrup and your parents. Most of them, anyway.”
Paul glances at Angus and you. Angus expression falters.
As the rest pack, you find refuge in your room. You can, however, hear Angus’s pleads.
“Try calling again. Just one more time. Please.”
“There’s no point. The desk clerk said no one’s answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”
“Excursion,” he repeats.
Mr. Hunham scoffs, “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so. I could be spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”
“Maybe they’re back by now. Just call again.”
“Okay,” he gives in and marches down the corridor.
Ye-Joon had wished you goodbye a moment ago and now does the same for Angus, “Happy Holidays.”
“Same to you.”
“Take care, Tully.” Smith follows Park, giving him a pitiful pat on the arm.
You catch Alex as he is about to exit. You’ve wrapped the gloves you worked on endless last night in newspapers. “This is for you. Try not to get them stolen by Teddy again. I don’t think my fingers can handle another round of knitting.”
Ollerman smiles genuinely, giving you a hug you didn’t expect. You’re unable to return it as he has your stiff arms completely glued to your side. You follow him out, and Angus scowls in your direction.
“Why aren’t you more upset about this? That was our only way out and we blew it.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Did you really want to go skiing with Kountze that badly?”
“No, I wanted to get out of here badly. Your parents seriously didn’t answer either?”
“Um-.”
“Hey, you know what! Maybe Hunham can call them again and they can take us both in!”
“Angus no-,”
“Yeah, come on! Let's go ask,” he tugs at your hand to get you through the corridor.
“No Angus. I don’t want to.”
“What, why?”
You run your hand through your hair, “I asked Mr. Hunham not to ring them.”
“Wait. So, you didn’t even try to leave!”
“No! I thought I was clear the night we talked about why I didn’t want to go back to that house. If they answer they’ll pull the victim card and be all ‘I can’t believe you guys kept my child from me! Who do I sue?’ before coming to fetch me and berating me all the way back.”
“Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything because I could tell you were upset but you could have at least let them know for both our sakes. Then we could have spent the holidays in a hotel in Boston or something! We didn’t have to stay with them.”
“I knew you were off that night!” You curse the way you’ve managed to read him. “Anyways, with what money? To do what?”
“I don’t-, I don’t know… we could have figured it out.”
“I can’t believe you're getting mad at my decision.”
“It’s a pretty selfish one,” his eyes widened like he couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.
You gasp and hit him harshly at his side. “Ow!” he yelps.
“You’re being an asshole right now. I’ve never been madder at you in my entire life.”
“Really? What about that time I spilled mashed potatoes all over your dress? Your face was beet red,” he mocks.
You go to swat at him again only for him to dodge you. You try once more and fail, almost falling onto the floor but stopping yourself by putting your hand on the nearest wall. If you weren’t so angry this would have reminded you of the times you would wrestle when you were eight. Especially now and the way he holds you back by putting his hand on your forehead to keep you at arm's length. You give up with a huff and you b-line to your room.
“Tell Mr. Hunham I won't be at dinner tonight!”
You hear him groan behind the door you slammed shut and then the sound of his footsteps fading. In your solitude you collapse on the bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Even though it's muffled, you hope Angus can feel it from where he is. That it reaches him and causes goosebumps to arise all over his stupidly long arms.
…
You had skipped out on dinner like you said you would. Although Mr. Hunham had been polite enough to bring a plate down to the infirmary. As he handed it to you, he said lowly, “I’m not sure what that little deviant did, but I’m sure it's related to his foul mood and your absence tonight. Let me know if I can do anything.”
You almost wanted to cry at his politeness. Later he invited you to the kitchen common room and claimed there was a TV there. Considering you had only stared at words on a page for the last few days, you jumped at the offer. You saw Mary there and to your displeasure Angus had been forced to tag along so that Mr. Hunham could supervise him.
Your eyes were glued to the television, not letting Angus’s burning stare get the best of you. They were watching “The Newlywed Game” and drinking from mugs. It was not half-bad. In fact, it was starting to get pretty good to see these couples have their relationship crushed within a thirty-minute runtime with ad breaks in between.
The boy had begun throwing pieces of balled up paper at you and you picked them off your hair and tried your damnedest to not pay him any mind. You could hear him tear a new page from that magazine of his and finally you snapped at him. “Will you stop it? You’re wasting paper.”
“Thank God. You’re talking to me,” he stood straighter in his seat. “Here's the thing, I'm sorry. I should have never said that you were selfish. Cause you’re like, not. You’re honestly the most unselfish person I know.”
“I don’t want your apology right now. I’m watching TV.”
“I just got caught up in the moment is all. The truth is that-.”
“Angus, I said I don’t want to hear it!” You raised your voice loud enough to catch the attention of both Mr. Hunham and Mary.
“Everything alright back there?” Hunham takes the pipe out of his mouth to ask.
You get up, brushing invisible dust off your skirt. “Can I be excused. I’m pretty tired.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“Thank you,” You pick up your discarded book from the nearby coffee table before leaning down and whispering in Angus' ear, “Don't follow me.”
As you stomp away you hear Mary say, “We need to get those two onto this program. Win us a trip to Bermuda.”
Mr. Hunham lets out a suppressed chuckle, embracing it soon after along with Mary. You roll your eyes at the pair and their drunkenness. You’re comforted by the fact that they’ll have a big headache tomorrow.
…
You’re shaken at a frantic rate. You went to sleep early but were awoken now by a mischievous looking Angus. He dangles a set of keys right in front of your face.
“What are you doing?” You squint under the harsh glare of the flashlight.
“Inviting you on a night of adventure. Walleye is completely blacked out. He won’t even notice us gone.”
“No thank you,” you turn away from him and drape your blanket over your head. He tugs it back down.
“Come on. Please?”
“I’m still not in the mood. Plus, now I’m tired.”
“Y/n,” he whines.
“If you find a cookie in a pantry somewhere you know what to do,” you murmur, already being lulled back to sleep by the warmth you feel under the covers.
“Y/n,” he says more seriously, “I am sorry.”
“I know,” you sigh. Maybe you had been too harsh. You prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’ll be better tomorrow. We will talk then.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He embraces you tightly in a hug. As he parts away, you two are face to face. You’re able to notice his eyes gleam under the light of the moon. You wonder when his eyes got to be that dark of a brown. Those same eyes flicker to your lips. You stare at him wearily as he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He walks backwards to leave, his back bumping into a nearby lamp. “Shit. Sorry. Uh, goodnight. Bye.”
You were probably disorientated. Sleep deprived most definitely. Or maybe that secondhand smoke finally got to you. Surely you were just seeing things. Because surely, your best friend hadn’t just looked at you the way songs and books always seemed to describe love.
a/n: Thanks again for reading! Just to clarify some things, obviously Y/n knows about Angus’s dad, but just like in the movie, he doesn’t let it show how much it affects him. That’s why Y/n is unaware of why Boston is such a big deal. Anyways bye :)) until next time. Let me know your thoughts.
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“There's nothing new in human experience, Mr. Tully. Each generation thinks it invented debauchery or suffering or rebellion, but man's every impulse and appetite from the disgusting to the sublime is on display right here all around you. So, before you dismiss something as boring or irrelevant, remember, if you truly want to understand the present or yourself, you must begin in the past. You see, history is not simply the study of the past. It is an explanation of the present.” - Paul Hunham to Angus Tully
#the holdovers#this MOVIE#so good#made my christmas#theholdoversedit#Paul Giamatti#Da'Vine Joy Randolph#Dominic Sessa#Brady Hepner#Ian Dolley#Jim Kaplan#Michael Provost#gifs#gif#*mine#cinema came back w this film#pearl's fave movies tag
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A Hazy Shade of Winter | Angus Tully
PART 2
ship: Angus Tully x fem!OC
warnings: Angus is literally so mean, but he's like that in the movie anyways.
summary: Carol's parents send her to spend the winter break with her uncle at Barton Academy, and a certain curly-haired boy takes an immediate (dis)liking to her.
word count: 2790
a/n: I watched the Holdovers like 2 nights ago and I’m obsessed with it now so here’s this! Maybe a second chapter coming?
written by @ganymede-princess
Misery. Absolute fucking misery. That’s all Angus could see for the foreseeable future. Just an ocean of black, sticky misery, stretching out to the horizon in every direction. As he settled his bony rear on the hard edge of the ping-pong table and listened to Hunham gleefully dole out their sentences, he thought he would vomit any moment, or drop dead. He kind of hoped he would. He scoured his eyes over the pitiful creatures he’d be bunking with this winter break; two little boys: a religious fanatic and a foreign exchage student, the school’s star quaterback, and fucking Kountze. Five little Christmas orphans. Angus would blame karma, if he believed in that hippy-dippy shit. The most unbelievably unfair part of all this was that he wouldn’t even be able to jack off in peace since all five of them would be bunking in rooms one and two of the infirmary, with Hunham in room four. God knows why they couldn’t use room three, but Hunham seemed determined to avoid any questions pertaining to that.
Just when he thought his holiday couldn’t get any worse, the girl arrived. She skittered in like a mouse, out of breath, red-faced and shaking like a handbag dog. Six little Christmas orphans.
“Ah, you’re here.” Hunham extended his hand welcomingly, and gestured to her to step forward.
She crept over, giving the ping-pong table and couch full of boys a wide berth, then nervously shook Hunham’s hand and scuttled away to sit on the floor and tuck her knees up under the frumpy men’s jumper that swallowed her whole, like a turtle retreating into a shell. She waved at the five of them, cherry lips curling into a tight smile.
“Is that a girl?” Kountze said, loudly.
“Indeed, it is. Students, this is Miss Carol Hunham, my niece. She will be joining us at Barton for the winter break.”
“Teddy Kountze.” The little freak said, practically falling over himself to shake her hand. He looked ridiculous crouching there beside her like he was about to accost a rabbit at a petting zoo. If brown-nosing was a sport, he’d be a world classer. “Wonderful to meet you. If you need a tour guide, come to me. I know this place like the back of my hand.”
She nodded in thanks, regarding him with huge puppydog eyes. Angus thought she must be dumb or tongueless. Five-foot-nothing, wearing unfashionably tapered plaid pants and Chelsea boots that were all the rage a decade ago, huge turtle-shell glasses that made her brown eyes bulge out of her head like a salmon… the only cool thing about her was her dirty blonde shag haircut, but even that came across as trying too hard. With that, and those round cheeks and fat mushroom of a nose, Angus almost expected to hear Hunham introduce her as his niece. Almost.
“You’ll be taking her nowhere without a chaperone, Mr Kountze. Now, gentlemen, and lady, off you go to the infirmary building.” Hunham’s one good eye roved over the room, then settled on Angus. “Mr Tully.” He addressed him in his weasley way, voice dripping with schadenfreude. "Be a gentleman and help Miss Hunham take her bags to room three."
Now it made sense why they'd been forced to leave it empty. The little fuck had a whole room to herself.
"I'm not a gentleman." He responded, insolently as possible.
"Then play the part."
"Fine." The ping-pong table screeched backwards as he stood up, grabbed his case and stormed over to the girl who leaped to her feet, eyeing him warily as he marched her out of the room and collected one of her ridiculously heavy suitcases and set off outside with the puppy in tow.
"Um." She began, her voice a pathetic whimper. "I'm Carol Hunham."
"I heard."
"And you?"
"Angus Tully. Are you deaf or something?"
"He d-didn't say your first name." Angus grunted in response. "So, you're- you're holding over?"
"What?" The question was so insipid it made him stop in his tracks and gawk at her. "Of course I'm holding over! Are you stupid?"
"Sorry." She whispered, averting her eyes. Angus felt a rush of regret as her lip trembled, but he swallowed it and marched on.
The air was biting cold, and Angus wished he had two jackets on- or better yet, a hot-blooded model on each arm- but unfortunately he was stuck between this girl making goo-goo eyes at Kountze and her machiavellian gargoyle of an uncle. As the rest of them caught up, his simmering rage suddenly bubbled over and he broke the silence in a voice thick with hatred.
“This is the most bullshit ever! If we have to stay, why’d we have to draw Wall-eye?”
“Uh, y’know he used to be a student, right?” Quaterback drawled.
“Yeah, that’s why he knows how to inflict maximum pain on us, the sadistic fuck.”
“Yeah.” Quaterback agreed with a giggly laugh. “I mean, no offence Hunham, but your uncle sucks.”
“I don’t know him.” The girl had retreated to the fringe of the group, and when she spoke up her voice didn’t command much attention.
“At least we didn’t draw Decker, he’d be perving all over us.” Kountze sidled up alongside her and let his arm brush against her. “And we wouldn’t have Carol here with us.”
Angus rolled his eyes, but felt vindicated when he noticed her pull away from him, almost fearfully.
“Hey, guys, hold up for a second.” Angus leaned up against the pickup at the side of the road and lit up a cigarette, eager to relieve all this tension.
“No, I got something else.” Kountze pulled out a stinking doobie and gestured for his lighter. “Gimme that.”
“Hey, don’t smoke that out here.” He chided. “I don’t wanna get busted by Wall-eye.”
“Don’t be such a pussy.”
“I’m not a pussy.” Angus felt his blood pressure rise. “I just don’t want to get up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”
Kountze didn’t bother responding, just blew out a fat drag and smiled in satisfaction.
“Teddy Kountze.” He said, offering the joint to Quaterback and trying to sling an arm around Carol but she sidestepped him to Angus’s amusement.
“Jason Smith.” Quaterback responded with a sickeningly charismatic smile.
“Yeah, I know who you are.” Fucking bootlicker. “You wanna hit this?”
He cast a glance up the road, but Wall-eye was nowhere to be seen. “Uh, yeah.”
He took a puff and offered it to Carol.
“No, thanks.” She held up her mittened hand. “I-I hear pot can give you the heebie-jeebies.”
“The heebie-jeebies.” Jason repeated, grinning. “Cute.”
She was sort of cute- Angus begrudgingly admitted now that he’d seen her up close- in that pitiful way that those fucked up little pug-dogs are cute. He wondered if she had asthma. Besides, it’s not like he cared. At least, if somebody like her could be cute, maybe he was too, with his hawkish nose, narrow eyes, five o’clock shadow, gangly limbs, scraggly hair… No, that’s ridiculous. Unless… He wondered if she thought he was.
“It’s mellow stuff, babe.” Kountze assured her.
She blushed and shook her head, then turned her massive obsidian orbs to Angus.
“C-can I…?”
He sighed heavily, arranging his face into a scowl before he handed over the cigarette. She took a dainty puff, then handed it back. He took a drag himself, savouring the knowledge that his lips were touching the same place that a girl’s had just rested.
“More?” He offered it back.
“No, thanks. I don’t really… y’know.”
“‘Course you don’t.” He scoffed and stuffed it back in his mouth. “Such a pristine girl, I bet you never did anything wrong in your life.”
Flushing, she averted her eyes.
“So, how’d you get stuck holding over?” Kountze queried, his demeanor forced casual.
“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack,” Jason said cheerfully. “But my dad put his foot down, said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”
“So why don’t you just cut your hair?” Angus snorted, feeling a fresh rush of anger. How could you throw away a perfectly good winter break just because you’re sentimentally attached to your godamn freak flag?
“Civil disobedience, man.” He grinned.
“I dig it.” Carol spoke up suddenly. “Conformity is a dangerous thing.”
“See, she gets it.” Jason put his arm around her shoulder.
“You like Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young?” Her blonde lashes fluttered as she gazed up at him. Angus could have puked all over the sidewalk, and Kounze looked like he might actually do it.
“Man, I love ‘em!”
“Almost Cut My Hair?”
“My anthem.” He nodded solemnly. “That album was my whole life last summer.”
“Neat.”
Angus noticed her head tilt to rest on his shoulder as he offered her the joint. This time she took it, allowing herself a long drag. He gritted his teeth and fought off the urge to deck that filthy hippy then and there.
“Anyway,” Jason waved his hand, as if clearing the conversational slate. “My dad’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was kinda hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”
Jason’s hand made its way into Carol’s hair, curling a lock of it around his finger. Angus’s fist closed involuntarily while Kountze’s eyes narrowed as he looked around, lip slightly curled in frustration.
“What about you, Mr Moto?” He said, locking onto his target. “Why are you here?”
“Uh, no. My name is Ye-Joon.” The boy explained innocently. “Uh, my family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”
“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken.” Kountze laughed and looked around for approval, to which he found none.
“Uh, wh-what’s a rickshaw?” Ye-Joon seemed genuinely baffled.
“You’re an asshole, Kountze.” Angus said darkly. “Your mind’s a cesspool, and a shallow one at that.”
“Who’s the asshole, Tully?” He sneered back. “You’re the one who blew up history.”
“Hey.” Jason held out his hand gently, then turned to the other kid. “What’s your story, man?”
“Alex Ollerman.” He responded, his voice stronger than the other boy’s. All that faith in a higher power, I guess. “I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS.”
“Mormons, right?” The kid nodded proudly.
“Don’t you guys wear some kind of, like, magic underwear?” Kountze gawped.
“That’s a common misconception.” Alex began. It seemed he had all his bases covered, and he turned to address the Korean kid too, as if he might convince someone to join. “Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when we-”
“Hey, what’s up with the townies?” Kountze interrupted, already distracted by something shiny. Angus was mildly relieved he wouldn’t be hearing any more panty-talk- he’d had quite enough for one day, what with his bathing suit and all- but, his relief quickly turned to annoyance when he noticed the two men coming down the road, hauling a Christmas tree between them.
“Hey!” He hollered. “What are you doing with our Christmas tree?”
“The school sold it back to us.” One of them responded. “Scotch pine, still fresh.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna put it back in the lot.” The other explained. “We do it every year.”
Angus turned back to the group and shook his head darkly.
“This is the most bullshit ever.”
______________________________
Angus didn’t think he’d ever be so happy to be in the infirmary, but when they stepped into the heated building, he might have sighed in relief if he wasn't in such a black mood. His arms absolutely caned from carrying that stupid suitcase, and Kountze had been smack talking the whole way up the hill. He thought the only thing worse than bunking with the two kids would be sleeping in with Kountze while he tries to tickle Jason’s balls. He’d much prefer to cosy up in the girl’s room, irritating as her face may be. He abandoned his luggage outside room two and hauled Carol’s down the hallway while she pattered along at his heels.
"Why do you need two cases, anyway?" He sneered, stealing the comfort of silence. "You can't have that much shit to carry."
"It's-" She paused and cleared her throat. "Well... well, why should I tell you, huh? You're- you're-"
"What? An asshole? A jerk? A philistine, as your mole uncle says? Y’know, I'm pretty sure there's a faculty rule against targeted insults towards pupils."
"You're mean." She admitted in a small voice. "And I don't know why."
"Yeah, well get used to it sweetheart. Just wait till Kountze gets over your gyno-gimmick and starts treating you like he does everyone else, you'll be begging for 'mean.' And by the way, you’re just antagonising him by hanging all over Jason all the time.”
“What’s Jason got to do with it?” She snapped, raising her voice for the first time.
“Aw, I hit a nerve, huh?” He delighted in watching her face turn scarlet.
"Y-y'know, when you stood up for Ye-Joon earlier, I thought you might actually be cool. I'm disappointed."
She said nothing else, just ducked her head and ran ahead to open the door for him. Baffled, he barged past her and dumped the suitcase on the nearest bed.
“Thanks.” She whispered.
"Why are you even here, anyway?" He rounded on her, suddenly tired of the way she let him walk all over her. "I mean, other than to ruin the ambience with that hideous sweater-"
That did it. She let out a choking sob and made for the door.
"Hey, hey wait!" He flailed out his long limbs and caught her around the arm, but she wrenched herself from his grip and made off down the hall, away from Hunham and the other boys to Angus' relief. "Carol, wait I didn't mean it."
She didn’t respond, just sped off and careened around the corner. Angus caught up just in time to see the door of the broom closet swing shut. He clucked his tongue and sat down on the hard floor outside, feeling a wave of disgust as he listened to quiet weeping. Gently, he rapped the door with his knuckles.
“Carol?”
“Go away.”
“Carol, I’m sorry.”
“Go away!”
He paused for a moment, and considered his options.
“Your sweater isn’t actually ugly, by the way. I was just ribbing you, y’know? Horseplay?”
“No.” She said firmly, voice muffled through the wood. “No, I know ribbing and that wasn’t it. Y-you were being cruel, and you wanted to see me cry, I know it.”
“What? No!”
“You enjoy it, don’t you? You’re so miserable, the only fun left for you is making everyone else feel as wretched as you.”
He swallowed thickly, feeling a lump of shame coating his Adam’s apple. He took another long moment to collect himself. He resented how easily she read him, but if he wanted to keep her from finking, he’d have to choose his words carefully, and eat a large portion of his pride.
“It’s true.” His stomach roiled in revulsion as he grovelled to her. “I’m sore about holding over, and I wanted to take it out on someone, and you looked like easy pickings. I’m brash, I’m rude, I hate everyone including myself, and I make it everyone else’s problem.”
She paused her sniffling, as if sizing him up.
“Well.” She said thickly. “Thank you for admitting it. That was very… self reflective.”
“I go to a shrink, I kind of have to be self reflective.”
“Ah.” She sniffled. “You can leave me alone now.”
“I would,” Oddly, it felt good to tell somebody… Good enough that he was able to go back to being sly. “But this closet doesn’t open from the inside. Every time we get a new janitor they get locked in here. Happens like twice a year.” She said nothing, but Angus heard her breathing pick up in pace. “I mean, I can always leave you in here.”
“No!” She said urgently. “Let me out, please.”
“I will, if you promise not to fink.”
“I-I won’t fink. If you leave me be, I won’t fink. Pinky promise.”
“Alright. I’ll stay as far away from you as humanly possible.” He clambered to his feet and opened the door for her. She was already standing, and as soon as she saw the light, she tried to scoot out beside him, but he moved his arm to stop her. “Pinky promise, remember?”
Begrudgingly, she curled her finger around his, then slipped out past him and returned to her room. Angus watched her go, and something broke inside his chest as the door closed behind her.
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the thing that kills me about Angus is that he’s not just smart, he is sensitive and both Mary and Mr. Hunham can see that but Angus himself can't because he's been told by everyone that matters in his life that he is troubled and difficult to the point that he can't even connect with any of his classmates
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Crush | Angus Tully x reader
pictures not mine, edit is mine
gender neutral reader
edited: no (might edit in future)
warnings: angst(?), swearing, drinking/drunkenness, weirdly-written pov, disappointed "parents", idrk
summary: Angus and reader are both pining but all it takes is a little alcohol to fix that. -> Hunham isn't fired, reader goes to Barton
a/n: I'm so glad the internet loves this man as much as I do. This movie got me to write again so I'm just glad for that. I might post more for him, idk. Let me know if you want some shorter stuff. I tried to capture Angus's dorkiness but IDK how well that turned out, LOL!
♡ ♡ ♡
“God, that was so nerve-wracking!”
“Really?” He smirked. “You didn’t look nervous when you were up there practically singing your heart out.”
“I mean it! My heart’s going so fast! Here, feel it.” Before he could process what you meant you had already grabbed his hand and stuck it flat against your chest. He could feel the thumping, rhythmically beating faster than usual, but mostly he was fixated on his hand being pressed against your body. His eyes widened a little, staring at your hand that still held his, his mouth parted ever so slightly.
His face became flushed as you rambled on about the presentation and how you worried about how it might affect your grade. He envied you in that moment, able to be so normal about something as intimate as this. He wanted to move his hand lower, feel more of your chest, but instead you released his hand and he returned it to his side.
You didn’t notice how quiet he was, trying to stop his mind from going to places he didn’t want you to know about. He nodded along whenever you looked up at him and laughed when you laughed but his eyes flitted between your neck and your lips.
He noticed he was walking at some point, didn’t even realize he was moving until you stopped in front of the door to your room. You walked inside, turning when he didn’t follow. “Coming in?”
He shook his head, effectively shaking his wandering mind free of dirty thoughts. “Yeah, yeah. What are we doing?”
“I don’t know,” You sigh, flopping on the bed. “What do you want to do?” He stood awkwardly beside you, his hands in his pockets. Laughing, you pat the spot next to you. “Relax, what are you so on edge for?” Right. This wasn’t something unusual. You two often came to each other’s rooms and lounged around.
He didn’t smile back but he could feel his cheeks heating up. He only hoped you wouldn’t notice– “You okay?” You sat up, leaning against the headboard and staring into his eyes as he sat down across from you.
“Yeah, sorry, my mind is somewhere else.”
“Yeah? Where else?” You tilted your head slightly, like a puppy diligently listening to their owner.
“Nowhere.” You didn’t press, you never did. He’d tell you if he really wanted to, no sense in annoying him about it. After that fateful Christmas break that brought you two together, though, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about his dad every time he began to stare off into space.
You’d met because of circumstance. The only two ‘holdovers’ left at Barton academy. Angus’s parents couldn’t be contacted and you couldn’t stand the thought of spending three weeks with the biggest jerk in school. It’d be much nicer to spend the weeks alone, reading in your room– or studying as Mr. Hunham originally governed. Instead you got to, albeit unintentionally, sort out your trauma together. Who knew Librium was such a popular drug?
“You wanna go see if Mary’s got the Match Game on? I kind of just want to sit on the couch.” He nodded.
Mary was in fact in front of the TV and Mr. Hunham, a bit unexpectedly, was too. They shared the couch facing the screen although sat on each of the ends, as far away from each other as possible. Mary and Mr. Hunham both liked their respective routines: Mary’s was to relax each night with game shows and Hunham’s to be alone… somewhere.
You and Angus entered the room silently and sat on the adjacent couch, considerably closer than the two adults. Angus grabbed a pillow and handed it to you before grabbing one for himself and hugging it. He leaned back into the cushions, tired eyes lazing towards the television. You had a similar approach, putting the pillow on the arm rest and lying down, legs tucked in.
When you woke up, you were just as you were when you first sat down. Only now there was a blanket draped over you. You peeked over the blanket to see where Angus had taken up the same position you had on the opposite armrest. He was rubbing his eyes currently, only just have woken up himself.
He winced as he stood up and stretched out. You smiled, his long legs must hurt from being curled into that awkward position all night.
Mary walked in, fully dressed in her uniform. “Good, you two are up. I didn’t want to have to wake you. Hurry back to your rooms, it’s already 7:15.” You glanced at the clock to confirm.
“Shit!” Angus exclaimed but then rescinded under Mary’s disapproving gaze. “Breakfast is in fifteen minutes. Mary, why didn’t you wake us up last night?”
She put a hand on her hip. “Why should that be my job? Anyways, I fell asleep too. Only one who didn’t was Hunham who was gone when I woke up.”
“Fair point.” Turning to you, Angus got caught in his own tracks. He meant to quip a ‘let’s go’ and begin to head back but he was instead met by you, still leaning against the pillow with slightly tousled hair and half-open eyes.
Mary had left at this point, leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at one another for a couple moments. You broke it by standing up next to him, slowly and steadily. “Guess we should get ready for breakfast, huh?”
“Yeah. Uh, yeah.”
♡
After breakfast, you and Angus didn’t see each other until your Laws and Government class. He usually sat in the back corner, unseen and unheard, but you preferred the front so you could pay better attention. Instead, a compromise was made, and the two of you now sat in the center of the room.
The teacher of the class was a highly pompous and old-fashioned old man. His hair was stark white and his cheeks and nose glowed red. He’d almost look like Santa Claus if it weren’t for his contant scowl. Worst of all, he hated uniqueness. If you didn’t kiss up to his highly conservative values then you weren’t getting an A. And you needed an A.
He was handing back the scores from the oral presentations you had the day prior. The one that made your heart jump out of your chest and into Angus’s unexpecting hands. You both looked at each other, making reassuring eye contact before flipping the papers. He smiled, B+. You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more disappointed. C-? What was the point of putting a minus when anything under a C was failing? You shrank back into your chair, never having got a failing grade before.
You stuffed the paper in your bag, not caring that it crumpled. Angus reached over and placed his hand on your knee. He didn’t say anything but you appreciated the gesture. He knew how much your grades meant to you. You stuck your tongue out at him and his decent grade but he knew you meant well.
♡
You didn’t usually drink, but tonight was the exception. Was it dramatic to be drinking due to a bad grade? Yes. Did that stop you from taking up Teddy Kountze’s offer to go to an off-campus party? No. Yeah, maybe it was a bad idea to accept the offer of the guy who was a constant ass to you and your best friend, but when he asked you were already in a bad mood. You didn’t even have to interact with him there, just confiscate all the free alcohol and get comfortable on the couch.
And so you did. When you walked into the house you said ‘hi’ to a couple people you knew and then ran to the kitchen. The smell hit you immediately, there was no second guessing what everyone was drinking. God, people really like this stuff? Whatever, it’s just one night.
“Angus Tully, call for you.” A teacher Angus didn’t recognize had knocked on his door at nearly five to one in the morning. He groaned, trudging down the hall to the nearest phone. Getting a call was already rare for him but one at one at one a.m. was out of the question. It was even more surprising when he heard the voice of the person on the other end.
“Tully?”
“Kountze?”
“Thank God, can you get down here?”
“I already told you, I don’t want to come to your stupid-ass party. Shouldn’t it be ending soon, anyway?”
Teddy groaned. “I don’t want you to come and hang out, I want you to come and pick up (Y/n).”
“(Y/n)? What’re they doing there?”
“I don’t know, man. Just come get them. I don’t know how much he drank but he’s been passed out on the couch for hours. Every time I try to wake him up he just kicks me.” Angus laughed. “Just get him out of here, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Give me twenty minutes.”
Angus didn’t have a car but he knew someone who did. He knocked on the door to the teacher’s lounge where he knew Mr. Hunham would probably be watching TV with Mary. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Mary yelled for him to come in.
Mr. Hunham nodded. “Mr. Tully.”
“Hello, Angus. You didn’t come all the way down here just to watch TV with us, did you? Usually you’re not alone.”
“I didn’t, actually. I was hoping I could get a ride, (Y/n)’s drunk and needs a ride home.”
Mary frowned. “(Y/n)? I didn’t think they were the type.”
Angus just shrugged. “Usually he’s not but he’s been talking to Teddy Kountze more. I think he’s the instigator here.” He stuffed his hands into his front pocket, shrugging.
Hunham scoffed. “That boy is a devil.”
“Oh, shush. He’s just a kid.” Mary scolded. “... even if he is a little asshole.”
They shared a laugh, followed by Mr. Hunham groaning as he stood. “Alright, I’ll drive. But I'm staying in the car. And tell him not to vomit on my seats.”
Angus nodded, following his teacher out. “Yes, sir!”
When they arrived Mr. Hunham parked on the street, right out front. Angus got out onto the lawn. “I’ll be right back.” Hunham nodded.
He saw Teddy first. Teddy just scowled and pointed to a room to the right. You were exactly where Kountze said you would be, passed out on the couch. You had a bottle of something in your arms, snugly held tight against your body. Angus pulled that out first and set it on the table across from you. You grumbled softly, missing the feeling of having something in your arms, and shot your leg out to kick who you thought was Kountze.
Luckily Angus was just out of reach and laughed in response. “(Y/n), time to wake up.” You lifted your hand to shoo him away but he persisted. “Come on,” he shook you softly. “Let’s go. Mr. Hunham’s outside.” That woke you up.
“Mr. Hunham?” Your eyes got wide. “What’s he doing here?” You sat up and Angus sat next to you, keeping you upright after a bit of sudden dizziness.
“He’s our ride.”
“I’m a bit embarrassed.” You put your flushed face in your hands, leaning your elbows on your knees.
“I’m sure he won’t judge you… Maybe just a little disappointed.” He laughed, standing back up and holding his hand out.
“No, I’m embarrassed with myself. I shouldn't have drank.” Your slurring was becoming more apparent now and Angus was sure you’d start crying if you stayed here any longer.
“How much did you have to drink?”
You knit your eyebrows together and frowned, obviously starting to get a bit grumpy. “I don’t know. Three? Four?”
“What? Bottles?”
“Cups.” You nodded towards a red solo on the table.
“Cups?” He laughed. “That’s it?”
You sighed, grabbing his hand and standing up. He couldn’t help notice the way you didn’t let go. Chests almost pressed together from the tight space. “Yeah, It’s my first time.” He breathed in sharply, eyes floating down.
“Really? You’ve never drank before? Mary was right about you.”
You slapped his arm half-heartedly. “Mary knows too? Who else did you tell!?” He broke from the spell and began to lead you towards the door.
He smiled. “Only the whole school.” You groaned in response.
When you got outside, Mr. Hunham rolled down the window to begin his speech before you even had the chance to get to the car. Angus opened the door to the backseat and helped you in but you grabbed his arm when he began to back up. You tugged ever so slightly and he gave in to the weak show of force, climbing into the backseat with you. You didn’t put up a fight but neither did he.
“... this isn’t the way to go about life. When you get to my age you…” You nodded along to whatever Mr. Hunham was saying, occasionally adding in an ‘I know,’ ‘You’re right,’ or ‘I’m sorry.’ Angus sat a bit stiffly next to you. You still had his arm in yours, hugging it as you had with the bottle.
♡
He dropped you onto the edge of your bed before falling down beside you with a groan. He needed a moment before he went back to his room. You, slightly more awake now, slung your legs across Angus’s chest in an awkward L-shape. He let you stay like that for a moment, catching his breath and savoring this while he could.
“Angus?” You asked softly, tilting your head to peer down at him.
“Yeah?” He pushed your legs back off the side of the bed so he could kneel beside you and help you take your shoes off.
“You’re so pretty, do you know that?” He paused, staring across at you, obviously shocked. Your face, though, was completely indifferent. “I mean it, you’re so beautiful. You’ve got perfect hair and perfect skin and perfect eyes. I don’t get it. You must know, right? I hope you know.”
“I-” He tried to speak but what would he say? He was still knelt down, desperately watching your face– which was still staring back innocently. Without thinking, he crawled onto the bed next to you, leaning up against the headboard. You adjusted, too, so you could continue staring at him, head on the pillow. He felt a bit hot under your gaze but he basked in the attention, he only wished he knew how to respond to make this last. To get you to look at him like this forever.
“God! You’re just so perfect! I don’t tell you that enough but I do think it. A lot. You’re just so pretty…”
“I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”
He could see the fatigue slowly taking over your eyes as you kept going. ���You’ve got this dopey smile,” You saw his face turn. “Not a bad dopey! Cute-dopey. It’s the kind of smile that makes me want to smile too.” Absent-mindedly you began to reach up to touch his lips, stopping centimeters from contact.
“Um, thank you.” God, that’s what he came up with?
You giggled, though.“You’re welcome.”
“I think you’re pretty too. I’ve been staring at the back of your head since I got to Barton. And then when Christmas break happened I was pissed I didn’t get to go home, sure, but man I was so excited when I found out you were staying too. I’m glad I get to see more of you than your hair now.”
“You’re lying.” You accused him but you were smiling.
“I’m not, I swear!” He couldn’t help but smile too.
“You can’t have been looking at me since you moved here because I’ve been looking at you since you moved here. And before Christmas, I don’t think we made eye contact once.”
“Believe what you want,” He laughed. “I’m telling the truth.”
You sighed, brushed him off wistfully, and went back to longing. You spoke as if you’d forgotten the previous few exchanges. Perhaps you had. “I wish I could look at you all the time. I wish I could touch your face and your hair whenever I wanted. I wish I could–” You abruptly stopped and stared him down. Angus had to remind himself again that you were out of it. You looked as if you were trying to make a decision but the alcohol was making it impossible to choose. Angus leaned forward a bit, almost unwillingly. He hardly even noticed his movements until your fingers finally touched his face.
Your eyes flickered down, his did too. Slowly you brushed against his bottom lip. He parted his mouth slightly, cheeks becoming more red by the second. You moved onto his top lip before brushing his cheek. His eyes hadn’t left your mouth. Pulling your hand back slightly you looked up to his messy curls. Reaching up, you grabbed the hair at the back of his neck, running your hands through it. He had to stop himself from making any noise.
“And you’ve got these big brown eyes, they’re really pretty, you know. I feel all shy when you look at me… like in the way you are now.” You sighed deeply, as if the weight of the world were on your shoulders. “God, Angus. I think I love you.”
It took everything in him to not swoop down and kiss you right then. He was glad you were drunk so you wouldn’t remember his bright red face, but he also couldn’t help but wish your confession had been a sober one. His mouth was stuck in a small ‘o’ before he realized you were waiting for an answer. “I don’t think this is the right time.”
You cut him off before he could clarify. “What do you mean? Are you dating someone else…? I’ll wait.” Your words made him sputter out a short laugh but your face was nothing but serious.
“That’s not what I meant. I–”
You frowned. “Then, what do you mean?”
“I mean,” He brushed some hair from your eyes. “You’re drunk and probably won't remember any of this in the morning. How about you tell me again when you aren’t inebriated?”
You grabbed his hand, holding it close to your chest. “Why? What if I forget? It hurts too much not to tell you…”
“I won’t forget.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”
He kissed you on the forehead, needing something to tide him over until he could act the way he truly wanted to. You curled up on your side before looking at him expectantly. He blushed and compiled, lying down next to you but leaving a couple inches between your two bodies.
He heard you laugh and move closer. He let out something between a moan and a gasp and you smirked in victory. Still, though, he wasn’t close enough. You reached out and grabbed his hand, setting it on your waist.
“You never told me,” You leaned into his chest. “Do you like me back?” You sounded like a middle schooler talking to their playground crush. Angus was almost unable to respond from the grin that trapped his face.
“Isn’t it obvious? Of course I’m in love with you too.”
#the holdovers#paul giamatti#angus tully#dominic sessa#x reader#x gender neutral reader#x male reader#angus tully x reader#fanfiction#da'vine joy randolph#mary lamb#paul hunham#teddy kuntze
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Unexpected | Angus Tully
For my bestie: @babybluebex
It was Christmas once again, and you found yourself alone. Your parents, deeply involved in “work” in Kenya, left you in your Salem Academy. The company of Mrs. Wheatley, a history teacher you disliked, was your only companionship. Despite her questionable claim of graduating from Yale, spending time with her has revealed a captivating side. On Christmas Day, exhausted from Mrs. Wheatley's insistence on avoiding outsiders, you shared a cold sandwich in the school kitchen. Unexpectedly, she mentioned the need to meet a friend in Boston, and soon, you agreed to a two-night trip, eager to escape the confines of your current surroundings.
Swiftly, you packed your belongings and hopped into Mrs. Wheatley's minivan, the sound of Led Zeppelin filling the air. Surprisingly, Mrs. Wheatley, usually in a sour mood during classes, transformed into a seemingly bohemian woman for this trip, even swapping her scarf. You couldn't help but speculate that her change in demeanor might be connected to meeting a "friend" – perhaps a crush. She shared that this friend was a history teacher at Barton Academy, a school your late brother had attended. The connection added an unexpected layer to the journey.
Upon your arrival, Mrs. Wheatley had arranged for you both to stay at a charming hotel in the heart of Cambridge. While you were still settling in, Mrs. Wheatley expressed a desire to visit a museum, a proposition that you reluctantly agreed to. Upon arriving at the museum, Mrs. Wheatley quickly conversed about the art and pottery on display while you followed her around, trying to appear engaged. As you looked around, your attention was suddenly diverted towards a young man walking down the hallway, accompanied by a man who seemed to be his father. You couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Wheatley discreetly checked her appearance and scent before making a beeline for the man.
As she hugged him tightly, you felt awkward, especially when you noticed the young man looking at you curiously, who appeared to be a student like you. However, you couldn't help but compliment Mrs. Wheatley on how nice she smelled, to which she thanked you before introducing you to her friend, Mr. Hunham, and his student, Angus, who he was in the custody of.
As Mrs. Wheatley and Mr. Humham were having a cringe-worthy and uncomfortable conversation, you looked at Angus and noticed that he recognized your expression. You both decided to leave the adults alone and went for a walk through the museum.
As you and Angus walked through the art gallery, you both suddenly stopped in front of an unusual Greek painting. The artwork depicted a naked man, and you couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as you gazed at it. You both stood there in silence for a moment, examining the painting's intricate details. The awkwardness of the situation was palpable, but then Angus broke the silence with a blunt remark, "Shit of painting." You couldn't help but chuckle at his comment and responded with a witty quip, "Classic. Maybe that should be the title." You exchanged a knowing look before moving on to the next painting in the gallery:
Angus: (smirking) “Well, it pushed something, that's for sure. (pauses) Hey, let's ditch Mrs. Wheatley and Mr. Hunham and grab some food. I'm starving.”
You: “Good idea. I'm hungry, too. How about pizza?”
Angus: “Pizza sounds perfect. Lead the way!”
After leaving the museum, you and Angus found a cozy pizzeria nearby. The warm aroma of freshly baked pizza greeted you as you entered, providing a comforting contrast to the cold December air outside. The two of you settled into a booth, the atmosphere lightening as you chatted about everything from school to favorite bands.
As you savored each bite of pizza, Angus shared stories about his life at Barton Academy. He mentioned his passion for photography and his desire to capture the essence of different cultures through his lens. Intrigued, you opened up about your interests, discovering unexpected similarities and shared experiences.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, and before you knew it, hours had passed. The initial awkwardness from the museum encounter now seemed like a distant memory. Angus's genuine laughter and easygoing nature had a way of putting you at ease.
After finishing the pizza, you both decided to walk through the nearby park. The city lights illuminated the night sky, creating a magical ambiance that enchanted the ordinary park. The crunch of snow beneath your feet added a serene soundtrack to your impromptu adventure.
As you walked and talked, you couldn't help but appreciate the unexpected joy this unplanned Christmas trip had brought. The loneliness you had felt at the boarding school was now replaced with the warmth of newfound friendship. Angus, too, seemed grateful for the escape from his routine, and you both relished in the moment's spontaneity.
Eventually, you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, gazing at the stars overhead. The night's stillness allowed for a peaceful reflection on the twists and turns of fate that had brought you and Angus together.
As the night drew close, you and Angus decided to head back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel, you bid goodnight to Angus, grateful for the unexpected friendship that had blossomed. Mrs. Wheatley engrossed in her conversation with Mr. Hunham, smiled knowingly as you returned.
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the way you do the things you do / angus tully x reader — part one
summary / chaos is only natural when barton's resident misfit strikes up a bond with the middle child of the school's most despised instructor.
warnings / none
word count / 1,300+
hii! this one goes out to the very wise anon who suggested a plot revolving around angus and mr. hunham's kid, which, i must say, is an utterly brilliant concept. however, it turned out to be a lot longer than just a mere one-shot like my first one had been, so it'll probably end up being two or three parts. i hope that's okay, lovely anon. thank you for sharing your brilliance with me!
Moreso than anything else, the relationship between the two of you started as an agreement. Well, an unspoken one, but an agreement nonetheless. Somebody had to look out for the two of you, on equal footing as outliers, as social rejects, as the odd men out. No one could be better for that role than you yourselves.
To your utter dismay, ever since your parents made the decision to ship you off to Barton Academy in order to get you “the best education available” for high school (which was made possible by your father’s half-off tuition staff discount), you found yourself under a level of scrutiny that you never once faced at your old public junior high. It was not your intention to be perceived as the offspring of the most hated man there, either, but word travels quicker than a deer crossing the road at Barton. A concept introduced to the dean on a Sunday morning ends up widely-understood knowledge by a Monday evening. You’d already been written off as the ‘spawn of Satan’ before you even started your first class. Tough fuckin’ luck.
On the other hand, Angus’s isolation was entirely self-imposed. Following several years of what his mother had promised would be a “short-lived maintenance phase,” he became fed up with the entire process — the constant shifting and forced socialization and paperwork and meetings with headmasters. Lather, rinse, repeat, over and over until he felt utterly insane. He grew to resist society’s forced conditioning of him, lashing out the only way he knew how, through acts of adolescent rebellion. Due to how much you contrast from your stickler father, you eventually saw eye to eye with Angus on this. Once you had finally worn him down to the point of dragging a tragic backstory out of him, you understood why, because, of course no teenager could possibly be interested in the art of befriending their peers and engrossing themselves in a community at their third consecutive school.
But it didn’t start off too swimmingly.
He entered your life on the strangest day of the week, during the least-interesting possible time of year — a Thursday in late February. You learned of his arrival through the grapevine, mere hours before you first saw him. Perched at a seat towards the very corner of the dining hall, you had become increasingly intrigued by the nearby nonstop chatter from a group populated by Georgie Jackson, Philip McNamara, Billy Wolfe, and Teddy Kountze, a rare sight in the seven o’clock breakfast setting, which was typically chock full of half-dead, completely exhausted teenagers.
“You wanna bet it’s gonna be another freak?” Teddy had grumbled, shaking his head dismissively at something optimistic Georgie must have said. “They’re half the school, at this point.”
He not-so-transparently nodded towards you, earning him in-sync laughs from the more agreeable Philip and Billy, and a halfhearted head shake from Georgie. “Christ, dude. And you wonder why we’re the only kids who tolerate you.”
Teddy threw his hands up defensively. “Hey, I’m just sayin’! We could benefit from someone actually cool and fun.”
“God, could you imagine how cool a girl would be?” Billy daydreamed, practically drooling.
The shaggy-haired blonde smirked. “You’re telling me. That’s all I wanted since I first enrolled here. Would be nice if old man Woodrup would do what the student body actually wants, for once.”
“Instead,” Philip piped up, wearing a dejected pouty frown. “I’m hearing this guy got kicked outta three different schools.”
Your curiosity piqued, you finally jumped in, against your better judgment. “What could possibly get a teenage boy tossed from not one, not two, but three schools? That sounds utterly ridiculous.”
The energy sufficiently changed as Teddy shot you a poisonous glare, you watched the trio of his small-time henchmen sink into their seats, seemingly anxious at how angry you were about to make him. His scrunched-up face twisted into a confident smirk, like he was one-thousand percent confident he could ensure you would never speak to him again. “What’s it to you, Walleye Jr.? You think I’d lie about some shit like that? Would you tell your daddy if I did?”
A scoff escaping your throat, you leaned back into your seat, slightly dejected. “Well, no, but-”
“That’s what I thought,” Teddy said, his lackeys chuckling in unison, practically on cue. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends, loser.”
Just like that, enforced unnecessary social hierarchy had left you right back where you were before, with more questions than you could ever get proper answers for.
Once lunch period rolled around, you figured you may as well not try your luck again.
Wrapping a gentle fist against the surface of your father’s door, you barely had to stand by for more than a few moments before he greeted you, the smile that he saved for you and the rest of your family plastered across his cheeks as he slung an arm across your shoulder, pulling you into a casual hug. Due to the academy’s policy of teacher’s children not being allowed to take their parent’s classes to avoid favoritism, you no longer spent time with him every day as you typically did with your mother back home. The reunion was definitely something you had been yearning for since you last saw him, even though it must have been no less than a week ago last Sunday. For the first time in far too long, something at Barton brought joy back to you.
“How have you been, sweetheart?” your father asked, his reading glasses bouncing slightly on the bridge of his nose as he sat back down at his desk. He pointed to the chair on the other end of it, offering it to you. You gladly accepted, tugging the seat out and sliding into it.
You shrugged at the question, trying not to pay Kountze and his gang of blockheads too much mind. “Fine. Haven’t really done anything too notable or special.”
“Well, hey,” he offered, sliding a sheet labeled roll call across the desk to you. “Maybe this’ll brighten your spirits, despite how much the prospect of it annoys me.”
As soon as he finishes speaking, you instantly know what he was referring to, your eyes catching on the highlighted name sandwiched between Neil Sweeney and Todd Wedderling, bearing an emboldened word next to it — Angus Tully (NEW). And then, like it were on cue, the door behind the two of you swung open, revealing the sight of an instantly-enrapturing bearer of deeply brown eyes.
“Ah, Mr. Tully,” your father remarked, rising from the desk to greet him. “What a coincidence. I was just introducing them to you.”
Angus snorted. “All good things, I hope.”
“You’ve yet to prove us otherwise,” the older man quipped, before quickly turning toward you. “This is my middle child, the one Dr. Woodrup told you about. They’re a sophomore like you, so even though you won’t be in my class together, I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
Picking up on the hint, you offer the other teenager a hand, which he casually shakes. “Pleasure to meet you, Angus.”
The brunette offered a crooked half-smile, enough to draw one out of you, too. “Nice to meet you as well.” Everything about him seemed natural — the way he didn’t force his grin, the warmth of his palm, the distinct waviness of his mud-shaded curls. This school left you perpetually surrounded by well-off jackasses, standing where they were currently placed via generational wealth, rather than strength and perseverance, working off of their own merits as your father had. Not to say that Tully was dissimilar in that manner, but he just felt so distinctly different, like he was not even trying to cultivate a phony persona in the effort of impressing others. If only everyone were like him. Maybe Barton would be bearable after all.
#angus tully x reader#angus tully#the holdovers 2023#ziggy writes shit#lyric from the AMAZING temptations song#go stream that if you haven't!#anon request
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Mr. Keating | Dead Poets Society
Prof. Lupin | Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Mr. Hunham | The Holdovers
(teachers who wear only wear sweaters and tweed that bond with a student and lose their jobs)
#a collection that pleases me#dead poets society#the holdovers#remus lupin#harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban#the mauraders#dps
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finally got around to watching The Holdovers and genuinely didn’t expect to cry as much as i did, i know what it’s like to be angus but i also know what it’s like to be mr. hunham. great fucking movie 10/10 easy rewatch
#the holdovers#dominic sessa#paul giamatti#angus tully#mary girl i feel your pain losing a loved one and the first holiday without them#kountze was such a bitch fr#like so annoying
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