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simplynotaneggworks · 2 years

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Fandoms and Ships

Disney Ella x Henry Cinderella Lady x Tramp (Human AUs) Lady and the Tramp Mary x Bert Mary Poppins Duchess x Thomas O’Malley (Human AUs) The Aristocats Pete’s Dragon (no specific ships; both original and live-action) Ariel x Eric The Little Mermaid Belle x Adam Beauty and the Beast Nala x Simba (Human AUs) The Lion King Kiara x Kovu (Human AUs) The Lion King Bo Peep x Woody (Human AUs) Toy Story Jessie x Buzz (Human AUs) Toy Story Mulan x Shang Mulan Jane x Tarzan Tarzan Kida x Milo Atlantis: The Lost Empire Dory x Marlin (Human AUs) Finding Nemo Violet x Tony The Incredibles Janice x Jesse Bridge to Terebithia Clarion x Milori Tinkerbell Tinkerbell x Terence Tinkerbell Tiana x Naveen The Princess and the Frog Alice x Tarrant Alice in Wonderland Rapunzel x Eugene Tangled Brave (no specific ships) Elsa x Hans Frozen Anna x Kristoff Frozen Inside Out (no specific ships) Judy x Nick (Human AUs) Zootopia Coco (no specific ships) Izzy x Buzz Lightyear Miranda x Roland Sofia the First Sofia x Hugo Sofia the First Amber x Hildegard Sofia the First Elena x Mateo Elena of Avalor Isabel x Javier Elena of Avalor Cassandra x Varian Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Dreamworks Miguel x Tulio The Road to El Dorado Fiona x Shrek Shrek Astrid x Hiccup How to Train Your Dragon Valka x Stoick How to Train Your Dragon Roxanne x Megamind Megamind Rise of the Guardians (no specific ship) Eep x Guy The Croods

Illumination Lucy x Gru Despicable Me The Lorax (no specific ship)

Sony Ericka x Dracula Hotel Transylvania

Blue Sky Linda x Tulio Rio

Harry Potter (in no particular order) Willow (OC) x George Draco x Harry Nymphadora x Remus Sirius x Remus Lily x James Narcissa x Lucius Emma (OC) x Charlie Merula x Rowan Penny x Ben Molly x Arthur Oliver x Percy Hermione x Ron Seamus x Dean Luna x Neville Luna x Rolf Tina x Newt Queenie x Jacob Albus x Scorpius Andromeda x Ted Victoire x Teddy Fleur x Bill

Other Jedidiah x Octavius Night at the Museum Norman x Ethan Heavy Rain Kara x Conner Detroit: Become Human Simon x Markus Detroit: Become Human North x Josh Detroit: Become Human Rose x Hank Detroit: Become Human Aloy x Erend Horizon Zo x Varl Horizon Beta x Drakka Horizon Elisabet x Sylens Horizon Alva x Kotallo Horizon Jane x Gunther Jane and the Dragon Jester x Smithy Jane and the Dragon Pepper x Rake Jane and the Dragon Gwendolyn x Caradoc Jane and the Dragon Nancy x Jonathan Stranger Things Steve x Dustin Stranger Things Will x Mike Stranger Things Joyce x Jim Stranger Things Fran x Maxwell The Nanny Katniss x Peeta The Hunger Games Effie x Haymitch The Hunger Games Lucy x Coriolanus The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Emma x George Emma Elizabeth x Fitzwilliam Pride and Prejudice Marianne x Christopher Sense and Sensibility Elinor x Edward Sense and Sensibility Daniel x Johnny Karate Kid/Cobra Kai Robby x Miguel Karate Kid/Cobra Kai Ali x Amanda Karate Kid/Cobra Kai Dutch x Bobby Karate Kid/Cobra Kai Demetri x Eli Karate Kid/Cobra Kai Kumiko x Chozen Karate Kid/Cobra Kai Ellie x Alec Broadchurch Beth x Paul Broadchurch Rose x Ten Doctor Who Yuuri x Viktor Yuri on Ice Yuri x Otabek Yuri on Ice Marinette x Adrien Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir Alya x Nino Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir Chloe x Luka Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir Luka x Adrien Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir Elizabeth (OC) x Ydris Star Stable Online Maya x Alex Star Stable Online Elizabeth (non-OC) x Avalon Star Stable Online Anne x Lisa Star Stable Online Novalee x Forney Where the Heart Is Claire x James Outlander Elizabeth (OC) x Fergus Outlander Brianna x Roger Outlander Aziraphale x Crowley Good Omens Anneliese x Julian Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper Erika x Dominick Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper Sophie x Nicholas Barbie: Princess Charm School Skipper x Jonas Barbie and Her Sisters In a Pony Tale Barbie x Ken Barbie Dreamhouse Adventures Barbie (Margot Robbie) x Ken (Ryan Gosling) Barbie

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nevillelongsbottom · 6 years

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records at breakfast pairing: charlie x rolf x neville wc: 2570 radio show playlists: charlie and neville, luna and rolf

“That was Paracetamol by Declan McKenna - yes, we haven’t forgotten about him - and that means it’s time for us to wrap up now! As ever, thanks for tuning in, don’t forget to eat breakfast, and have a great day. We’re Charlie and Neville, this has been Don’t you forget about milk on KILV, and we’ll leave you on Why Didn’t You Say That? by The Lemon Twigs; Luna Lovegood and The 12” menagerie on next. See you on Wednesday, Ilvermorny!”

Neville is already waiting by the door when Charlie exits the claustrophobic radio booth, wrapped up with a scarf, smiling lightly, as if he might break by smiling too wide. “That went well,” he says.

“Twitter’s pretty happy about the Glen Hansard song; I think we might’ve unleashed some fans,” Charlie laughs, pulling on his coat and waving to Luna; he always half-wonders if she shouldn’t be hosting a TV show instead, with her wildly eccentric clothes and strawberry earrings. “Hey, isn’t her co-host meant to start today? Where are they?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen anyone,” Neville shrugs, glancing around; just as he’s about to step out to look for the mystery guest, he appears in a flurry of billowing cardigan, wild-eyed and with hair fluffed in various directions. He’s slightly tall, gangly, and shifts restlessly from foot to foot, staring right at Neville and also right through him. “There he is,” Neville says, sounding only mildly surprised.

“I got the lineup changed,” the boy gasps. “Can’t… start with… Rock Me Like a Hurricane…” He wheezes, taking a few hits of a small blue inhaler before straightening up. “Oh my God, you’re Charlie and Neville.”

“That’s us,” Charlie says cheerily. “You must be Luna’s co-host. Nice to meet you; good luck with her.”

“Yeah, I’m Rolf,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, please help me. Her music choice is off the wall and I haven’t heard a single good thing on campus about the show. It took me half an hour just to try and sort out today’s show.”

Charlie laughs. “You free after your show?” Rolf nods. “Meet me at Starbucks then, and I’ll try and sort something out for you. Nev’s got classes, or he’d help, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Rolf says, turning to the door, pausing for a brief moment to turn. “White Light Doorway is an okay opener, right?”

“Absolutely perfect,” Charlie agrees, trying to stifle his amusement as Rolf enters the studio, a rabbit in the headlights. “Aw, he’s sweet. Here’s hoping he won’t get steamrolled by our dearest Luna.”

Neville clicks his tongue. “I wish we’d opened with Florist.”

“You know, I’d never actually heard of these guys until I heard their song in a movie, but I’ve got a feeling you’ll be hearing more of them at breakfast now - that movie is Suburban Gothic, very trippy, check it out; this is Such a Bore by Bass Drum of Death on KILV.”

Charlie leans back in his chair, glancing over at Neville as he shifts his headphones down to his neck. “So, heard the consensus on Rolf and Luna?”

“Everyone I’ve spoken to says they’re brilliant and that Rolf has completely improved the show,” Neville beams, trying to resist the urge to jump out of his seat. “I recorded a few to listen to, and they really are great, aren’t they?”

“Rolf’s sorted the music front, that’s for sure,” Charlie grins.

“What did you even tell him that day? I couldn’t have helped much; I mean, we just play what we like, don’t we?”

“I don’t play everything I like,” Charlie shrugs. “I try to keep it morning appropriate. No one wants to wake up to PUP. But I told him to try and build blocks between songs, as if he were making a playlist: don’t just jump from one extreme to another, but try and flow from one to the other. I also told him to check out what the rest of us play if he wanted to think about radio cohesiveness, but since Pansy and Blaise at six and Sirius on Thursday afternoons don’t, it doesn’t really matter.”

“I like Pansy and Blaise’s show,” Neville muses. “They play cool stuff.”

“Yeah, so I said it wasn’t too much of an issue,” Charlie nods. “It’s swings and roundabouts, I think, as to what Rolf goes for every day. But it’s working pretty well; yesterday’s show was so good someone put all the music on Spotify.” He puts his headphones back on, takes a moment to check Twitter, and leans back into the microphone. “That was Love in the 4th Dimension by The Big Moon followed by Beach Slang and Punks in a Disco Bar. We asked you earlier to text in about your favourite new release. Thoughts, Neville?”

“The right answer to this is The OOZ by King Krule and I’m glad to see that Ernie Macmillan agrees with me,” he jokes. “Though I think Beck’s latest was good, too; it’s getting a lot of airplay on The 12” menagerie, so remember, don’t switch off after we’re done and support our friends, too.”

Neville’s afternoons are usually filled with classes, but Charlie has some time to himself after the show which he usually spends studying and either listening to something on Spotify or listening out to Luna and Rolf.

It’s to his surprise, then, when they’re doing a show on crushes featuring text-ins when Rolf admits, the blush audible in his thick accent, to having a crush on “Charlie from the show before us” before dedicating Walking on a Dream to him.

“I know this is totally one-sided,” he says over the airwaves, “but he’s so nice, and he has great music taste - well, that puts me in agreement with most of the campus, for once…”

Charlie fumbles for his phone and shoots a message off to Neville, his stomach doing acrobatics with glee.

(In no world does Charlie expect Neville to send a text in to Rolf and Luna proclaiming his love for Charlie; Rolf’s response to this is Beck’s Debra, which he plays, he says “ironically”.)

It’s not in Charlie’s vested interest to host a breakfast show with someone who has feelings for him without discussing those feelings first, and so he meets Neville for pizza in the Italian restaurant by the student apartments, laughing to himself as he hears Pansy’s dulcet tones over the stereo.

“I’m sorry,” Neville says immediately. “I’ve made things difficult for you; I’m so sorry…”

“No,” Charlie says, vigorously, leaning across the table. “I’m glad you told me, cause truth be told, I kinda like you too. It’s just that I like Rolf, too, and the idea that I have to somehow make a choice between you is…” He trails off, not entirely sure where he’s going or if it’s stupidly selfish; he’s never been the target of anyone’s public affection, never mind two people at once, and he wishes there was a handbook on this kind of thing.

“Maybe you don’t have to choose,” Neville suggests, leaning in reciprocally and lowering his voice. “I’ve heard about multiple people dating before, and maybe - maybe we could try it.”

“You think you’re up for that?” Charlie asks, frowning lightly. Neville nods awkwardly. “Okay. Have you asked Rolf?”

“He suggested the idea,” Neville says shyly, looking away. “He found me after the show and we - talked about stuff. Sorry. I should’ve said, but - it’s just kinda hard to suggest that…”

The pizza arrives and Charlie takes a bite, with vigour. “Stop being sorry, Nev! I get it, proposing the idea of a poly relationship or whatever they call it is hard, but I’m down for it, so just - stop apologising.”

“Sorry,” Neville replies out of instinct; for a moment, they look at each other and burst into laughter. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that!” he giggles, only to be interrupted by Charlie’s lips on his; he’s stiff out of surprise but slackens, comfortable, one of Charlie’s hands tucked at the back of his neck and winding in the ends of his hair.

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before that’s made its way round student Twitter?” Charlie asks as he sets back to his pizza, stealing the lemon from Neville’s water.

“It probably already has,” Neville replies.

(He’s not wrong.)

“I think the eighties are my favourite decade - I know there’s plenty to be said for the seventies, definitely not the nineties, but I’ve been really enjoying the nostalgia boom right now and I think it’s a phenomenal decade, visually and musically - and, you know, we got our name from The Breakfast Club, so we have a lot to be thankful to the eighties for. Have you guys all seen the second series of Stranger Things yet? Charlie and I binge-watched the whole thing last night. It was so good! I really enjoyed it; Tweet me your thoughts, spoiler-free, at k-i-l-v-milk, and here, suggested by Seamus, are The Human League with Don’t You Want Me.”

Charlie drums on the table. “So, where’d Rolf say we’d meet after class?”

“He said he’d treat us to coffee and cake at the chocolate café. What’s it called? Choco-Latte?”

“I think so. Can’t say I’ve ever really thought about the name, just that the cake is fucking delicious,” Charlie grins. “Did you have an alright sleep last night? All two hours or whatever of it. I’d have asked this morning, but…”

“You were too busy shoving toast in my face,” Neville finishes. “I slept okay, I think. But I kinda just want to watch Stranger Things again. Maybe we should do it with Rolf. I don’t know if he’s ever seen it.” He scrolls through Twitter, raising an eyebrow. “Rolf has just suggested Close to Me.”

“He likes The Cure! Mercy Lewis, we’re playing that one next.” He kicks his chair back over to the desk, prepping for the song to finish; he starts as Neville reaches out to grasp his hand, tightly, looking as if there’s something he’ll burst if he doesn’t say.

“Charlie?” he whispers, looking up shyly. “Yesterday - that kiss - it was my first.”

Charlie orders a tad much at Choco-Latte and they take the remainders of his lunch and another few slices of cake back to Rolf’s to finish off; Rolf’s house is a matrix of rich corridors decorated in bright IKEA furniture that doesn’t look like it’s been assembled quite right, a Billy bookcase collapsing by his bedroom and a long-haired cat curled up on top of a cardigan that’s fallen from his clothes horse.

Neville gets a little lost on his way to the bathroom: Rolf’s house is enchanting, interestingly decorated with paintings being sold by strapped-for-cash art students or picked up at art fairs and pinned-up magazine covers and framed records. He stops more than once to reach down and scratch behind the ears of a cat or dog, and he catches a glimpse into Rolf’s airy bedroom where birds sing in a complex of cages.

“The toilet’s that way,” Rolf’s voice chirps helpfully, and Neville starts, spinning around. “It’s okay. I like to look at the birds, too.” He grins, bashfully, as if Neville’s just discovered a secret - but the kind of secret that he wants to be discovered and shared. “Charlie’s going to put on The Breakfast Club, by the way, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Neville nods, turning. “Um… thank you. For this. For coming out with us and letting us in here to watch movies.”

“No problem,” Rolf says, with a smile. “I like you. Both of you.”

Neville is somehow able to find his way back to the living room from the toilet without much more distraction than a hairless cat trying to trip him up, which Rolf spots and removes. “Sorry,” he says, lightly kissing the cat’s head. “This is Leta. She likes to do that. Leta, come on, what did I tell you about bothering people…”

Charlie is on the sofa, cupping a mug of hot chocolate in his hands and singing along to Simple Minds, and so Neville sits next to him, locating his slice of chocolate cheesecake among the menagerie of cocoa and digging into it with a spork.

“Doesn’t he have forks?” Neville asks, frowning. “Or - spoons?”

“I believe that sporks are Rolf’s ideal implement for cake eating,” Charlie replies, grinning and lifting his. “Look! It’s even got a smiley face on it. We should talk about this on the show.”

“It’s silly, but… I would love some of these,” Neville says, smiling back at his spork. “I know that people would just laugh at me, and maybe you would too, but they’re sweet.” Charlie laughs softly - but earnestly, and runs a hand through Neville’s hair, making Neville flush. “W-what?”

“Nothing,” Charlie chuckles, shifting over as Rolf joins them on the sofa. “Whatever happened to these guys? Molly Ringwald was huge in the eighties. More importantly, what happened to John Hughes?”

“He died,” Rolf says, glancing over. “Didn’t you hear? It was a few years ago.”

Charlie’s eyes are wide as saucers as he sits up. “What? No! I missed this news! Not John Hughes - Ferris Bueller was my childhood! Neville! My childhood! It’s been over for years and I didn’t know!” He reaches out, his hand grasping at Neville’s arm and for the briefest moment an electric shock passes between them that stops Charlie in his tracks for a moment as he flinches. “Christ. You’re electric, Nev.”

“Keep your ’lectric eye on me, babe,” Rolf sings, startled as both Charlie and Neville turn to him. “Um… hello.”

“That was the first song we ever played together,” Neville says, softly, his eyes wistful. “On the show. We wanted to play something that felt like growing up, because we were.”

“I didn’t know,” Rolf admits. “It’s just one of my favourite songs, and one of my favourite albums, and I like David Bowie, and…” Neville cuts him off with a kiss, lightly pressing a hand against Rolf’s back and against the fabric of his yellow polo shirt; it’s short, and Neville can’t stop himself from giggling when he pulls back, overwhelmed by everything.

Their hands intertwine, and as they turn back to the movie, Charlie stretches his arm out as far as he can around the pair of them.

“Ilvermorny! Good morning to you all, and what a good morning it is indeed. I’ve been having a fantastic time over the last two months, which I know is contrary to the general mood on campus, but why can’t we all feel great, even just for this morning? Buy yourself a cake. Eat a cookie. Splurge on that top you were thinking of buying - it’ll look great.”

“But before you do that, stay tuned,” Neville adds, reaching over for Charlie’s hand. “We’re on for the next hour, and after that, our good friends Rolf and Luna are going to be spinning the best tunes of this year so far. Now, here’s a song for someone special: Apartment by Modern Baseball, a song I don’t think we play enough.”

He lets go of Charlie just long enough to spin around to Rolf, taking up an extra seat in the booth, eyes shining. “Maybe we should go for cake after this,” he says. “And watch-”

“Pretty In Pink,” Charlie says immediately. “We need to watch Pretty In Pink.”

#i write shit #hp #hp rarepair #hprarepairnet #triad ship #charlie weasley #rolf scamander #neville longbottom #charlie x rolf x neville #userleochampagne #azkabqn #azkabcn #not sure about this but i like the idea #so i'm rolling with it

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helnjk · 3 years

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A Brief Glimpse - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: there’s nothing like the rumors that students can come up with about their favorite teachers. especially when one of them is adamant on keeping her private life, well, private.

Warnings: brief mentions of meals, one curse word but that’s it

A/N: a purely self-indulgent, fluffy fic inspired by this ask from kendall ( @lupinsclassroom ) who said that if i taught at hogwarts, i’d be the COMC professor! and i love me some good charlie content. this is also kind of a different style that i’m used to, i hope you guys like it! x

–

The top three favorite professors at Hogwarts were as follows: Headmistress McGonagall, Professor Longbottom, and Professor L/N.

While most students would argue that Professor L/N could potentially overtake Professor Longbottom on that list, there was just so much they didn’t know about her. She was practically the perfect professor; she loved what she taught (Care of Magical Creatures), she was considerate and understanding with students who were struggling with the subject, and her office doors were always open to anyone who wanted to chat.

Still, she kept her personal life very private and of course, the more she refused to answer their prying questions, the more intrigued the students became. All they knew was that she was one of the top students of her year, she was a Ravenclaw, and she fought at the Battle of Hogwarts years prior.

There were many rumors going around the student body of Hogwarts about who Y/N L/N was. The most popular ones were that she was actually Headmistress McGonagall’s secret daughter, because of how close the two seemed to be. In reality, Y/N was just one of Minnie’s favorite students. The headmistress often joked how she should’ve been in her house instead of Filius’.

Meanwhile, Neville was always open with the students, answering whatever questions they had for him, as long as they weren’t crossing the line between professional and personal. They often loved to ask him questions about his friendship with the Golden Trio or his stories of the war.

“They’re getting more creative with the questions they ask me,” he shook his head, smiling slightly one dinner, “They’re trying to see if I’ll slip up and mention anything juicy about you.”

Y/N laughed slightly, eyes glimmering, “What sort of questions have they come up with now?”

“Today Chapman asked me if I’d ever spent the holidays with other professors around my age,” Neville mused, “Or if Hannah was ever jealous that I was working with a girl so close to my age.”

“Oh please, Longbottom,” Minerva tutted, and the two younger professors turned their heads in her direction, “At least your questions still have some sort of delicacy. Griffiths has actually asked me, point blank, if Y/N’s spent her summers with me.”

The collective guffaw of the professors at the head table caused the majority of the student body to shift their attention to them. Of course, the authoritative looks that they sent at the house tables were able to convince them to get back to their own conversations, but now the Great Hall was abuzz with trying to figure out what made the professors laugh so loud.

“I wonder when they’ll stop trying,” Y/N mused as the crowd of students began to slowly shuffle out of the Hall.

“Don’t count on it, L/N,” Minerva smirked.

–

“Professor L/N?” a meek voice sounded from the door to Y/N’s office on Wednesday afternoon.

The middle of the week was rather free for her, therefore she used it to catch up on grading and, if she had time, a little light reading. This afternoon, though, she was in the middle of writing an important letter.

Her owl, Athena, perched at the edge of her desk and her scrutinizing eyes darted towards the fourth year Hufflepuff who stood by the door. Eloise Abbott, a shy young thing with a penchant for Care of Magical Creatures and one of Y/N’s best students, sent the intimidating owl an uneasy glance.

“Come on in, Eloise,” Y/N smiled as she slipped the ink and parchment she was using into one of the empty drawers of her table, “Don’t mind Athena, she’s just impatient to get this letter out.”

The young girl shuffled towards the professor as Y/N asked, “Is there anything you needed?”

“Erm, I was just wondering if you could check my Defense paper,” she mumbled, pulling out a parchment from her school bag, “It’s on Grindylows and other creatures we could encounter in the Forbidden Forest, and I know it’s not really part of your syllabus, but I just wanted to make sure I didn’t get anything very wrong.”

Y/N smiled and held her hand out for Eloise to place the essay. It was silent as she read over what was written, that silence only broken when Athena let out soft hoots or ruffled her feathers.

“Erm, professor,” muttered Eloise after a while, Y/N’s eyes glanced up from the parchment, “I don’t mean to pry, but why does your owl want so badly for you to finish that letter?”

A soft chuckle came from Y/N’s mouth before she answered, “She just loves the person I’m writing to, and I honestly think she would rather be in his care than mine. Even if it were just for a few nights.”

“But you’re wonderful with animals!”

“And he is too, I assure you. Maybe even more so than me.”

Eloise nodded her head slowly, and Y/N could see the gears turning in her head. It perplexed the young student, who could ever be better with animals than her professor? She knew it couldn’t have been Hagrid, as he still lived on the grounds and Athena could visit him any time she wished.

Maybe her favorite professor was friends with the Scamander family. Rolf Scamander definitely had ties to Hogwarts and seemed about her age.

Before her thoughts could go any further with hypothesizing, Professor L/N handed her essay back, “It looks great, Eloise. I have no doubt you’ll get high marks on this essay.”

Eloise could spot a professor’s dismissal anywhere, so she merely nodded as she took the parchment back. As she hurried out the room, she expressed her gratitude over her shoulder, catching Y/N pull out the letter she was writing with a soft smile on her face.

–

The end of the school week came with a surprise visitor to the castle. The students could not stop discussing the presence of a dragon tamer on the school grounds. He had arrived later in the morning, trudging up the pathway from Hogsmeade and making his rounds around the school.

Headmistress McGonagall greeted him at the gates with a smile and a hug before she took his arm and the two of them had tea in her office. Of course, as the students weren’t used to seeing an adult that wasn’t the faculty or the staff in the castle, his presence sparked many conversations.

“I saw him knock on Hagrid’s door!” said Neil Chapman to anyone who would listen to him at lunch, “He had some burn scars all over his arms and really bright red hair. He seemed really cool.”

It was as if the whole Gryffindor table was gathered around him as he told and retold how Hagrid’s booming voice announced that Hogwarts’ resident dragon tamer was back. Rumors floated around the school for the rest of the day, each student having something to say about the mysterious man.

“He’s gorgeous though, isn’t he?” sighed Daphne Griffiths, as she and her best friend roamed the hallways on the way to their next class, “All rugged and handsome. I caught sight of him walking towards the quidditch pitch after Transfiguration.”

All the professors had to stop themselves from full-on grinning at the different things they had heard about Charlie Weasley gallivanting around the grounds, but none of them as amused as Professor L/N.

“Hurry along then!”

Y/N stood next to a small paddock at the edge of the forest, next to its open gate. At the center of it, a cluster of fluffy creatures rolled around and play fought with each other.

“Alright class,” she clapped her hands together, “We’re having a little bit more of a relaxed class to end the week. A crup of one of the Hogsmeade villagers just gave birth about a month ago and her owner’s graciously allowed us to spend an afternoon with the puppies.”

The second year students cooed at the litter of small dog-like creatures with two tails. As soon as she finished her sentence, the group of them rushed to get inside the paddock, each one wanting a turn with the small puppy-like things. Once all the students were inside, she shut the gate and joined them as they congregated around the tiny crups.

Y/N was grateful that her last class of the week was with younger students. They were much easier to please and sometimes more eager to learn. Of course, almost anyone would be enamoured by the litter of puppies running around.

With her wand pointed at her jugular, she began the small spiel she had prepared for the lesson, “Now, as most of you might know, crups are basically magical dogs…”

Most students weren’t really paying any attention to her little lecture, but she told herself that at least she tried. She understood the need to coo over cute little puppies, she could let it slide just this once.

From where she stood towards the other end of the paddock from the gate, she had a panoramic view of the class, just in case anything happened. She doubted anything would, but at least that way she could keep everyone in sight.

“Of all the magical creatures in the world, you chose to teach about crups?”

A strong voice rang through the open space and caused many of the students to turn their heads at the sound. Somehow, Charlie Weasley had made it to the gate of the paddock without Y/N noticing. Upon seeing the redheaded dragon tamer so close to them, murmurs spread among the young students.

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking in the sight of him with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face.

“Oh wipe that smile off your face, Weasley, you try teaching these kids all week,” she replied, raising her voice slightly so that he could hear what she had said.

“I guess they are quite adorable,” he caved, leaning his forearms against the paddock and seeming as if he was going to observe them their whole class.

The students observed their playful and easy banter, in awe that their professor knew the ever mysterious man.

As her wards were still distracted by him, she said, “Pay him no mind class, he’s harmless. The crup puppies need your undivided attention!”

As soon as the prying eyes were off of him, Charlie sent Y/N a cheeky wink. She couldn’t stop a smile from growing on her face at the gesture, but she shook her head to indicate that they could talk after her class was over.

“Professor L/N?” a young girl walked up to her, sending a furtive glance over her shoulder to where her friends were gathered.

The group of them gestured to her to carry on and Y/N’s eyes lit with amusement, “What’s up?”

“I-er, we wanted to know how you know the dragon tamer guy? The other professors haven’t said much about him when asked.”

The young student fidgeted nervously, picking at the hem of her sweater as she glanced up at Y/N. Despite being in the rather early years of her journey at Hogwarts, she knew that Professor L/N enjoyed her privacy. She didn’t want to overstep.

Y/N sensed this apprehension and gave her a soft smile, “We were in the same year at Hogwarts. He was a Gryffindor and I was a Ravenclaw, but we managed to have a few common classes.”

“Cool!”

Before anything else could be said, the girl scurried off to meet her friends with the small tidbit of information she was able to gather from the otherwise close-lipped professor.

Thankfully, the rest of the hour passed by rather quickly.

As soon as the bell rang, it was obvious to Y/N that the students were stalling. She had dismissed them fairly quickly and had already begun her process of cleaning up. Meanwhile, the majority of the class was still situated inside the paddock, shuffling around in groups.

Inwardly, she sighed, knowing that there was nothing she could do about it, it was the end of the school week and they were free to roam (or stay) in any part of the grounds and the castle they wanted.

Inevitably, Charlie had gotten impatient waiting for them to clear out. Instead, he strode confidently through the gate and towards where Y/N was directing the puppies to stay.

“Charlie? What are you–”

The remaining students, who had been not-so slyly watching the redhead stride through the paddock, all collectively gasped as he pressed his lips firmly on their professor’s.

Y/N began to weakly protest, the logical side of her brain screaming at her that this was definitely unprofessional, but the emotional side took over as she was surrounded by the scent and the presence of her boyfriend. Her boyfriend whom she hadn’t seen in months and made a special trip to Hogwarts just to see her in her element.

Thankfully, Charlie pulled away fairly quickly, his arms still firmly wrapped around her body, a dopey smile on his face.

Once Y/N gained her bearings, she slapped his chest, “Charles Weasley!”

“What?” he grinned.

“You’ve just kissed me in front of my students!”

–

Despite the–shall we say scandalous?–first encounter between the couple, the rest of the afternoon was quite lovely. Y/N showed him all of the creatures under her care and in the section of the forest that was relatively safe. They also borrowed some old brooms from the shed and raced each other out on the pitch until their cheeks were painful from laughter and their noses were red from the cold.

By the time dinner rolled around, of course the whole student body was aware of what transpired between the handsome dragon tamer and their favorite Care of Magical Creatures professor.

This was the first piece of juicy information that they had gotten on Professor L/N, and while they were highly amused at what had happened, they were also not surprised that she was dating someone who worked with dragons on a daily basis.

They also couldn’t deny the fact that she practically lit up in his presence. They had never seen her so at peace and so happy as when she was with Charlie. Anyone with eyes could tell that the pair of them were in love.

Minerva had also graciously allowed Charlie to sit at the Head Table with the rest of the faculty at dinner, which caused quite the stir.

Practically all sets of eyes were trained towards the couple as they ate their dinner fairly normally.

“You two seem to be the talk of the whole school,” the headmistress teased.

Charlie sent his favorite teacher a shit-eating grin, “Must be my dashing looks that’s got them all interested.”

“Please, Weasley,” Y/N tutted, “They’ve just gotten a huge piece of information about me. This is basically their Christmas.”

“Maybe they’ll finally stop hounding me with insane questions now!” Neville chirped happily, and the table erupted in laughter.

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15

Charlie taglist: @pinkypurplemagic

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley imagines #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley fics #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x y/n #tw meals #tw meal mention #tw cursing

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voidedtrisha · 3 years

Text

Requests are open!

Hiya everybody! My Imagine/oneshot/preference requests are open!

I am literally down for every type of request - except smut and adult x child pairings - so feel free to request!^^ Also don’t be afraid to ask me to do an imagine/preference/oneshot with a character or fandom I didn’t list!^^

Fandoms that I will write imagines about:

―The Lost Boys (1987):

Michael Emerson

Sam Emerson

Edgar Frog

Alan Frog

David

Marko

Paul

Dwayne

Star

―Stand By Me (1986):

Chris Chambers

Gordie Lachance

Vern Tessio

Teddy Duchamp

John ‘Ace’ Merrill

Richard ‘Eyeball’ Chambers

Billy Tessio

Charlie Hogan

―Young Guns I-II (1988/1990):

Billy the Kid

Chavez y Chavez

Joshia Gordon ‘Doc’ Scurlock

Dick Brewer

Stave Stephers

Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh

―Footloose (1984):

Ren McCormack

Willard Hewitt

―Gravity Falls (2012-2016):

Mason ‘Dipper’ Pines

Mabel Pines

Wendy Corduroy

Robbie Valentino

Nate

Lee

Soos

Stanford Pines

Stanley Pines

―Class of 1999 (1990):

Cody Culp

Sonny Culp

―Stranger Things (2016- ):

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Dustin Henderson

Mike Wheeler

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Will Byers

Lucas Sinclair

Robin Buckley

Eleven

―Grease (1978):

Danny Zuko

Sandy Olsson

Kenickie

―IT (1990/2017/2019):

Bill Denbrough

Beverly Marsh

Ben Hanscom

Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie Tozier

Mike Hanlon

Stanley Uris

Henry Bowers

Patrick Hockstetter

Victor Criss

Reginald ‘Belch’ Hugins

―Changeling (2008):

Sanford Clark

Gordon Northcott

―Bones (2005-2017):

Zack Addy

Lance Sweets

Seeley Booth

James Aubrey

Temperence Brennan

Jack Hodgins

Arastoo Vaziri

Wendell Bray

Finn Abernathy

Jared Booth

Vincent Nigel-Murray

―Z-O-M-B-I-E-S I-II (2018/2020):

Zed Necrodopolis

Eliza Zambini

Wyatt Lykensen

Wynter Barkowitz

Willa Lykensen

Bucky Buchanan

Bonzo

Addison Wells

―Jeepers Creepers I-II (2001/2003):

Darry Jenner

Izzy Bohen

Scott Braddock

Andy Bucky

The Creeper

Billy Taggart

―Descendants I-II-III(2015/2017/2019):

Carlos De Vil

Evie

Mal

Jay

Harry Hook

Uma

Gil

Ben Beast

―Teen Wolf (2011-2017):

Scott McCall

Stiles Stilinski

Lydia Martin

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Liam Dunbar

Theo Reaken

Kira Yukimura

Jackson

Allison Argent

―Ed Edd n Eddy (1999-2008):

Double D

Rolf

Eddy

Edd

Kevin

Nazz

The Kanker sisters

Jonny

―Five Nights at Freddy’s (2014- ):

Freddy Fazbear

Foxy

Chica

Bonnie

Mangle

Toy Bonnie

Toy Freddy

Toy Chica

Springtrap

Fredbear

Funtime Freddy

Funtime Foxy

Ballora

Circus Baby

―Big Mouth (2017- ):

Nick Birch

Andrew Glouberman

Jay Bilzerian

Matthew

Jessi Glaser

Val Bilzerian

Kurt Bilzerian

Leah Birch

Judd Birch

―Harry Potter:

Draco Malfoy

Harry Potter

Ronald Weasley

Oliver Wood

Hermione Grager

Fred & George Weasley

Marcus Flint

Adrian Pucey

Neville Longbottom

Luna Lovegood

Seamus Finnigan

⋯⋯⋯

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amiandthechaos · 7 years

Note

Charlie weasley for the pairing thing?

My NOTP for them: Snape? Lol he'd be my notp for everyone. My BROTP for them: Harry! My OTP for them: I've been pretty invested in Charlie x Neville as of late. My second choice pairing for them: Draco because why not! My fluffy pairing for them: with Neville it's pretty fluffy but Luna also comes to mind. My angsty pairing for them: Draco is always angsty choice #1 My favorite poly ship for them: someone suggested to me Charlie x Rolf x Luna and it's actually so interesting! But Charlie x Oliver x Marcus it's pretty amazing too. My weirdest pairing for them: I think I could see something like Charlie x Theo happening and that would be pretty weird! Thank you!

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nevillelongsbottom · 7 years

Text

doorframes: an “it” au there’s a small town in rural america that sits in the middle of wandering dry green bushes, with yawning old houses snatched straight from the 1980s; rolf’s been here for months, already, in the middle of some photography project that marries nicely with his gap year, and he’s just finished developing some particularly interesting black and white prints when he hears the rumble of the only bus that serves town.

“charlie,” he breathes, setting down a landscape of the sign that serves town, taken sprawled out on the roof of his subaru; he grabs his boots, tying the laces using an easy-tie method that takes him just seconds, and dashes for the door, flinging it open.

his eyes light up with surprise: he’d only been expecting charlie, just as much a globetrotter as he is, but standing behind him, awkwardly clinging white-knuckled to his suitcase, is neville; it’s been a long time since rolf last saw neville, far too long, and he looks different - he’s not quite as happily chubby, a little thinner, more drawn, english pale; but travelling is always a weary thing, and so rolf leaves it by, placing his arms up around neville and squeezing him. “hey,” he says warmly, “it’s been a while.”

“yeah,” neville says into rolf’s shoulder; it smells the way that rolf does, sharp and tangy but earthy, like he’s been rolling around in mud somewhere (and god knows, he probably has). “i wanted to see you, and since charlie was coming, well...”

“i’m glad you’re here,” rolf nods, leading neville through the door and into his house - well, it’s more of a shack, really: he took up an old abandoned house and only converted a few of the rooms into living spaces, leaving rooms full of sprawling ivy and branches and wildcats scattering across the floor. “i’m so sorry, neville; i’m sure charlie will recognise this mess, but i’m aware this looks slightly like i’m living in squalor...”

“you are living in squalor,” charlie reminds him with a beaming smile, laughing and elbowing rolf. “travelling entails squalor, unless you’re rich and or glamping.”

“i don’t get glamping,” rolf complains, “it really defeats the purpose of camping in the first place; it’s meant to be a raw, beaten, outdoor experience without the usual luxuries...” he goes on for longer than neville listens; he’s not so bothered by the mess and inhabitable rooms, but he feels far away from the world that charlie and rolf live in: he feels like he’s been jerked unknowingly from his body, and is watching from above. it reminds him of puberty; it’s so close he still remembers the feeling, but he’s not sure why it’s back, returning in a crashing wave.

“neville,” charlie says, starting neville as he places a hand on the younger’s arm. “you okay?”

“uh-huh,” neville says. “sorry. i was miles away,” and he leans into charlie, feeling the rise and fall of his chest; charlie breathes like he means it, deep from his stomach. neville doesn’t think he’ll ever do anything as well as charlie just breathes, and he bunches his hand in the cotton of charlie’s shirt. “it was a long flight.”

“yeah, it was.” charlie musses neville’s hair affectionately. “rolf, baby, is there a takeaway round here? we could get some food and get neville somewhere to sleep.”

“pizza place round the corner,” rolf nods, grabbing his wallet out of his jacket pocket; it’s barely even a jacket, a thin sports jacket that’s more for aesthetic than anything else. “i've got a darkroom through that door over there, nev, so can you stay out of it?” neville nods. “thanks. we’ll be back in a bit.”

“okay,” neville says, and he watches them leave hand-in-hand, masking his smile; he loves them both and finds them sweet as sugar.

when the door shuts, he decides to have a cursory look-round: it’s a two-floor house, but there are stairs missing and they creak with nobody stepping on them, and so neville avoids the dusty spiral; he runs his hands along the walls - there’s peeling wallpapers in the inhospitable rooms, but rolf has ripped them off in the four rooms he occupies and painted them a friendly golden yellow instead: but he’s rolf, and so hasn’t done it particularly brilliantly, with spots missed and some painted messily, signs of humanity - though without rolf, it’s strange and empty.

neville settles himself on the mattress in rolf’s bedroom; there’s another one stacked up against the wall, for him and charlie. it’s a little small, but neville doesn’t mind, and he curls up on rolf’s mattress with a soft sigh, stomach growling.

he starts as he hears a clattering from the kitchen; he shoots up from the bed and edges through, feeling his chest constrict as he walks, hand on the wall like a lifeline, brushing the paint. “hello?” he calls weakly. “rolf? charlie?”

silence. the stairs groan dying breaths.

he keeps on walking, each footfall agonising, the result only of stupid bravery - fuck, he’d never walk if he wasn’t such an idiot, but he pushes forward, trying to ignore the feeling of whispering around him, the feeling of eyes piercing right through them, or looking right into him. it’s probably a cat, or something, he reckons with himself. his heart is hammering so hard it hurts; he wants charlie back.

“hey, neville, wanna play?”

oh, fuck.

draco malfoy is sneering at him in the doorway to an empty room; but he’s not draco, he’s contorted, twisted in the way that neville always sees him in his mind’s eye - tall and lanky with black eyes, an other mother version of him, leering, his teeth there and then razor sharp and then gone in untimely flickers that chill neville through to the bone, that loosen his bladder and slam him against the wall. he wants to scream. he doesn’t. he wants to scream. he wants to scream, he is terrified, his trouser leg is wet with his own piss and-

“you’re so pathetic, longbottom. what a fucking loser, piss poor and so fucking fat; like a cow!” the draco-creature crows in a voice that sounds like gravel and screeching and children crying, and neville flattens himself to the wall, his face losing its colour; he thinks he might leave his body, paralysed, rigid. fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s so scared, watching as draco’s head spins and rotates, growing redder and redder and his smile widening with blood that drips from either end, glaswegian, as draco’s face smears itself with white paint, encroaching on neville finally as a clown, so tall and huge he feels tiny in comparison as it leans in. “piss pants longbottom! piss pants longbottom! age eighteen and you can’t even control yourself! you’re a weak boy, aren’t you? are you scared? are you scared?”

yes, neville is scared; because he’s taken a plane halfway across the globe and he’s never alone, clowns over his shoulder at every avenue, and no matter where he goes, it’s there, waiting: and with a final burst of energy, he sprints outside with a bellowing scream, the clown hot on his heels as it smashes through rolf’s sitting room, dispelling itself as neville flings himself through the front door and tumbles down the steps of the porch, slamming into the concrete ground with some force, his nose bursting with sticky red blood.

“go on and pee yourself again,” the voice cackles right in neville’s ear and he just screams, flinging himself into a ball, arms pulled tight over his head and face, muscles pulled taut, his mind only producing one sentence over and over like a frantically broken record:

i am afraid

he almost doesn’t notice when charlie and rolf arrive, dropping the pizzas to the ground to wrap arms around him and stroke through his hair. “neville,” charlie says softly, “neville, i’m right here, okay, love?”

“what happened?” rolf demands - but not harshly, with desperation, thrown, confused. “are you okay? oh, god, nev...”

neville slowly withdraws his head from his arms, the lower half of his face beginning to crack with drying blood; rolf’s eyes widen, and charlie looks at him with the kind of sympathy neville doesn’t need: it’s the sympathy of someone who believes he’s going slowly insane, and though charlie loves him through it anyway, he just wants someone to believe.

“is it happening again?” charlie asks, his fingers grazing the back of neville’s hair.

“everywhere,” neville whispers, “it’s everywhere.”

it takes a fair amount of coaxing to return him to rolf’s house; he’s wrapped with a blanket and placed on the spare mattress after taking a bath to wash the urine from his legs. rolf tidies his room, and takes a moment of silence in his darkroom, running a hand through his hair and sighing softly, perplexed.

he glances through his developed photographs, pausing for a moment; he doesn’t recognise one in the center of the pile, one of his own house just post his own moving in because it’s surprisingly neat on the inside, and the outside of the house still littered with removed furniture; but on the inside of the house is a figure that he doesn’t recognise, and upon closer inspection, he spies red on the person’s face, hidden in the shadow of the doorway.

he tucks the photograph away, and, with a slight shudder, returns through to neville; when neville looks up, he understands the expression, and they join their hands slowly, fingers winding together.

“yeah?” neville implores.

“yeah,” rolf replies, and sits down slowly.

#i honestly don't know what this is #it's like some kind of it au #also a triad ship!#love these three #sorry 2 charlie but i guess he doesn't get terrorised by pennywise so hey ho #hp #i write shit #charlie weasley #rolf scamander #neville longbottom #charlie x rolf x neville #triad ship

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nevillelongsbottom · 7 years

Text

@hptriadsnet: get to know the members event othar - charlie x neville x rolf x luna

Neville’s never seen a sight before like the Gulf: it’s huge, swallowing up the vast nothingness of the cracking desert that surrounds it, full of lush green cactuses with man-sized spikes and groaning beasts with scaled skin that he can barely see through the occasional wallowing cloud; and even though it’s nothing, really, just plain ground that goes on for miles and miles, he’s hypnotised by it – it’s beautiful in that foreign way, the way that it’s so incredibly new.

“First time seeing the Gulf, huh?” Charlie grins, resting his elbows on the side of the ship, his flyaway hairs wild in the wind that rushes by them. “I love it here. Rolf thinks it’s too barren to be much fun, but I grew up on dragons and wyverns, and one of these days, I wonder if I’ll see one out here. But mostly it’s just the old one-eyed fliers that come too close, so watch yourself.”

“I am trained,” Neville objects – though he doesn’t feel like it, not anymore; his Academy robes are too heavy for the warmth of this part of the world, and he’s been wearing a half-unbuttoned thin cotton shirt and shorts since he realised that, magic student or stowaway or captain or hearty chef, everybody’s equal on Charlie’s airship.

“And I could fend off pirates one-handed in my sleep, but those fliers are still buggers and they bite hard,” Charlie says, reaching over to ruffle Neville’s dark hair. “Just trying to look out for you. Give me a shout if one of the eagles tries to snatch you away.”

“Hey,” Neville says, a look of sheer terror flashing for a moment in his eyes; Charlie sighs softly, his hand falling from Neville’s hair to the back of his neck, reassuring. “They – they won’t, will they?”

“No,” he says, laughing. “They’re far too small for that. I’m just joking. Sorry.”

Neville’s been on the ship too long to feel offended by anybody trying to scare him – it’s their idea of fun, of bonding, of inducting him as a new member, and so he just resists the urge to roll his eyes, resting his head on Charlie’s shoulder; Charlie, despite the muscles and the beard and the rough laugh and the knuckledusters, is a man for tenderness, for hugs and knees bumping and people sleeping in his lap. “Is the rest of the world like this?” Neville asks, his eyes twinkling; he’s never left his hometown, never mind the country – never seen the beauty of the singing lights in the Ascorian skies, the majesty of the neverending cities in Chie-Skua, never had coffee in the depths of a forest in a town made of wooden platforms. “This beautiful. It... it just makes me want to not to finish learning. I want to... I want to see it all.”

“Othor’s pretty, too, you know,” Charlie shrugs, the pads of his fingers dusting the collar of Neville’s shirt. “I’ve been there plenty times, and I still haven’t seen a damn thing in that city. It’s practically the size of the countries over where you live.”

Neville is quiet, watching the sky, a curtain of blue.

“You can do what you want,” says Charlie, “but you’ve always got the time to see the world.”

The ship ports for a day at the aerodrome in Catoosa, and Rolf invites Neville and Luna to join him on one of his many wanderings: this time, to see a friend. On the ship he’s always dressed in a way that makes Neville’s throat catch, in a half-unbuttoned cotton shirt and trousers held up with suspenders, his messy brown hair mussed in the breeze – but when they’re in town, he wears huge overalls and heeled boots, his pockets tucked with various weapons, bells, and foodstuffs and his straps affixed with various badges proclaiming him to be members of countless organisations from across the world.

He catches Neville’s stare, and grins.

“Where are we going?” Luna asks – seemingly ignoring the blistering heat of the Western sun, she’s wearing her Academy robes, the last relics of their significantly colder home, and she sticks out like a sore thumb in the city: her hair is pulled up and pinned to her head in a variety of braids, whereas the local girls let their hair hang loose round their shoulders. Neville doesn’t know whether or not he really does aesthetically prefer Luna’s braids or just likes them from familiarity.

“Charlie is doing some business deals, so I thought I’d visit an old friend,” Rolf says, cheerily, the flare of his three-quarter trousers blowing in the breeze. “He used to be a mercenary – good, too good, retired early with enough money to keep himself afloat, and now he lives out here with one of his friends. He’s seen a lot of the world, too – Charlie said you were thinking about travelling, so I thought he might be able to help you. And he keeps Kneazles.”

“Does he live nearby? There are lots of Nargles here,” Luna remarks; she sounds like wind chimes to Neville, which confuses him a lot.

“Nargles, huh? Never heard of them. You’ll have to point them out to me sometime. This way.” He veers on a sharp left, pausing for a moment to reach out instinctively for Neville – his hand stops in the air before floating back down to his side. “You okay, Neville?”

Neville is not okay, actually. He thinks Rolf is attractive, and he likes the way Rolf smiles, and he would gladly give up his next two years at the Academy just to keep travelling with Rolf. The worst part is – he doesn’t even know why.

“Uh-huh,” he nods. Rolf looks at him through floppy hair, and a moment passes this way.

It’s not Viktor’s job to convince Neville to stay at the Academy; and thus, he fails.

Rolf does it better.

He’s waiting when Neville knocks on the door, one of the straps of his overalls undone from where he’d had it safety pinned shut for good measure, and his eyes twinkle a little. “What’s up?” he asks, stepping aside to let Neville in to his little menagerie before squeezing the door shut behind them.

“I feel homesick,” Neville says softly, and when he leans forward and rests his head on Rolf’s shoulder, Rolf’s arms reach up to catch him; they can feel each other’s breath warm on their skin, and it’s like nothing Neville has felt before: this closeness, tenderness, an intermingling of their senses and experiences. Nothing this far away ever feels like home, the frigid cold of Gidi, but Rolf is the closest thing he’s felt to it: Rolf feels the way that people from home do – caring, soft, the type of man to stop at a corner and look back to make sure Neville is still with him and not stuck a half-block back.

But his accent is all Othor, and it makes Neville wonder–

For the briefest of moments before Rolf kisses him, of course, hands knotted tightly at the back of Neville’s head; Rolf kisses like someone who’s kissed before, all slow and then fast, but his hands fumble for purchase on Neville’s arms as he digs deeper, kissing like he’d die without it.

Breaking free with his breath coming out in desperate gasps, Rolf turns to his bed, pausing as he remembers it’s simply a comfortable hammock; he turns his gaze to the floor, squeezing Neville’s hand, but the floor is littered with cages and cats and rats and Kneazles, and a non-negotiable no-go zone.

“Your room?” he asks breathlessly, letting Neville shyly tuck some of his wild hair behind his ear.

“I share it with Luna,” Neville says softly; Rolf frowns.

“Lock her out?” he suggests, but Neville shakes his head emphatically.

“We can’t do that!”

“No, I’m sorry, of course we can’t,” Rolf says, appalled at himself for a moment; he frantically looks around until his eyes finally settle back on the hammock. He sighs, and slowly begins to undo the safety pins on his second strap, revelling in the slow widening of Neville’s eyes and the hitching of his breath.

He undoes the button and lets the overalls drop; hypnotised, Neville follows him wordlessly across the room, forgetting the entire rest of the world in the map of freckles on Rolf’s back.

“WE GOT PIRATES!”

Neville bursts out of his cabin and into sheer chaos: the deck is full of people, many wielding cutlasses sharper than the swords of Gidi’s home guard, and he careens towards Luna – Rolf and Charlie are unapproachable, Rolf surrounded by a swarm of sharp-talon eagles and Charlie smashing in the face of a bearded man built like a dragon with his bronze knuckledusters, grinning manically with the adrenaline that courses through his veins.

He starts as a hand grabs at Luna’s collar, and without a second thought, fire comes spiralling up through him and then out, spinning out and curling around Luna’s attacker, squeezing tight with third-degree burns. He’s never really used magic for anything but convenience before, but it comes so naturally to him now and when the fire regroups and spills on the pirate, a wave of heat, it takes his consciousness to pull it back, staring wide-eyed at the scorched burns he’s left behind.

The pirate stumbles back, and the ship’s second mate kicks him over the side. “Nice one, mate,” he grins at Neville.

Neville can’t unsee the fire, and goes still as he watches the fight.

The airship’s medical bay is surprisingly large, full of small beds and boxes full of this and that pilfered from various cities; Luna, white mage to the core, loves pottering around in it, even though she doesn’t really need any of the equipment: just her own magic, cool against the pain of the lacerations on Charlie’s arms. He doesn’t mind being patched up, regarding Neville with wary eyes.

“Are you okay, Nev?” he asks, trying to ignore the distraction of the white light in Luna’s hands.

“We just – I just – burned him!” Rolf reaches over to squeeze Neville’s arm; he’s patching up the wing of one of the many eagles he summoned, apparently with a small bell he keeps in his pocket (Neville’s almost hesitant to believe it, despite the fact that, of course, he just summoned fire from nowhere). “And then – Blaise threw him off...”

“They were here to kill us, Neville,” Charlie replies, voice steady and cool. “I wouldn’t have the reputation I did if I let my would-be assassins return to the skies, would I?” He sighs. “It’s hard at first, I get it, but it’s our lives or theirs. This is what it’s like out here.”

He lets Luna finish healing him before standing up and walking over to Neville, tangling his fingers in Neville’s dark hair; his hands are still warm, and Neville resists the urge to allow himself to buck his head into Charlie’s hand. “I think you ought to go to Othor. It’s harsh here in the skies. I’m sorry you had to see it in person.”

“I’ll go get you some soup,” Rolf says. “You want to go back to your room?”

“I prefer yours,” Neville says, flushing. “For the animals.”

Rolf raises an eyebrow, but can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Okay, sure, me too. Come on. Soup.” He reaches out his hand and Neville takes it gracefully, following him along the corridor; Charlie snorts, taking a seat where Neville had been, crossing one leg over the other.

“God, he’s cute,” he says, leaning his chin on his hand. Luna giggles.

“He is. So is Rolf.” She pauses for a moment, glancing over. “You too.”

They stop for fuel in Coracre, known to the ship’s crew as comfort food central, and so Charlie decides to take Rolf and his little Academy stowaways out for pie; Neville seems to be recovering with surprising certainty, and they’ve avoided further attack likely from the news of the first’s failure and the news that they have a black mage on board, so when they return to the ship, Charlie decides to make his proposal –

In Neville and Luna’s room, of course, because they have the biggest of their little quartet.

“So,” he says – they’re all seated in a little circle, and he loves it, because he can speak to everybody’s bright-eyed faces and can see the broiling excitement in Rolf’s eyes. “Rolf and I were talking, and I think we’ve had an idea.” Charlie traces a circle on his thigh, grinning. “We all like each other – so, instead of ignoring it, why don’t we all go out?”

Neville frowns. “What do you mean, all go out?”

“I think he means that, instead of a couple, we’re all a quad,” Luna says dreamily. “There’s four of us in this relationship, not two.”

“Will that work?” Neville asks, looking around – it’s true, he really does like them all and probably has a few too many feelings than he can really deal with sometimes for them all, but the idea of trying to wrangle spending enough time with all three of them makes his head hurt. He wants to be idealistic, but he’s just too much of a thinking mess.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Charlie replies. Neville looks at him, for a moment in slow-motion, and then lurches forward, hands clapping to Charlie’s cheeks, and kisses him.

“Is this your first time dating?” Charlie asks – the four of them are all sitting out on the deck and bathing in the Western sun; he’s lying sprawled on his back while Neville is sitting cross-legged, flicking through some of his new coursework now that they’re getting ever closer to Othor.

“It isn’t,” he says, flushing, “but it’s my first time – dating – a man. Two men.” He shifts, shutting the book and wiping a layer of dust from the hard cover. “Why – do you like me?”

“Too many reasons to count,” Charlie replies, shifting his arm from where it’s covering his eyes to sit up and drape an arm around Neville’s shoulders. “But really, the reason I noticed you in the first place is because it takes someone very ballsy to sneak onto my ship – and two of you? Academy students, no less. The kind of person who would put their education and lives in jeopardy just to cross the country and finish said education is the kind of person I’d like to know better.” He laughs, softly, earnestly. “And then I got to know you. And you’re not the kind of ballsy kid I was expecting – but you’re sweet, the pair of you.”

“It’s not that Luna is ballsy,” Neville admits, looking over to her – she’s talking to Rolf, the two of them admiring one of his intricately patterned summoning bells, “she just... doesn’t seem to understand that she’s being that way. Or maybe she just doesn’t care – we’ve been roommates since we started, but she’s still a mystery to me.” He leans in, resting his head against Charlie’s chest and feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. “What about you and Rolf?”

“He’s just as much of a stowaway as you two,” Charlie muses. “When I first got this ship – stole it, actually, from a couple of sky pirates – he was waiting there, and asked me if he could come with. I’m pretty sure he’s from Othor, since he has the heaviest accent I’ve ever heard, but I don’t know much about him – just that he seems to have been anywhere and everywhere.” He reaches over a hand, and shouts. “Oi! Rolf! Luna! C’mover here. We’re going downstairs.”

Neville stills. “Downstairs?”

Charlie quirks his brows. “Downstairs – you don’t want to?”

Neville goes redder than the magma Charlie has seen flowing from volcanoes. “I’ve just... never... gone the whole way.”

“We can go slow.”

Rolf interjects. “We don’t have to do this at all.”

“No,” Neville says slowly. “I want to. Before we have to leave.” His voice drops. “I’m going to miss you. I want to spend time with you. Everything just feels so – surreal, and new, and a little bit scary.” He winds his fingers with Luna’s; hers are always cool with her magic, but his hand is clammy with sweat. “And then it’ll all be normal again, like none of this ever happened.”

“Except it won’t be,” says Rolf, “because nothing’s ever the same once you’ve flown over the world.”

It’s true, but not necessarily – because nothing is the same after they trail downstairs, all four of them, hand-in-hand, and Neville feels what it’s like to be a part of something – of someone; the feeling is more beautiful than the cracks in the Gulf, the spires of Giri, the festival streets of Catoosa, the sunset in the West where the yellow sun bleeds into the ground.

It’s more than home: it’s new.

Othor is never far away, and within a month, they’ve arrived: Neville and Luna hang over the deck, staring wide-eyed at the tall limestone buildings, culminating in the city’s tour de force – the Academy. It’s huge, so high in the sky at its pinnacle that it’s almost height with the airship, and Charlie is careful as he steers to avoid it, leaving just Rolf with their two stowaways.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he says with a grin; Neville can’t even respond, so awed by it all: it’s a beautiful day in Othor, with blazing sunshine and cobbled streets and a huge river running through the city, and he can see the Academy students in their lighter robes wandering around, and he can’t believe he ever thought of bailing on it. “I’ve been everywhere with Charlie, but I always miss it here.”

Luna buries her head in his chest for a moment. “It won’t be the same without you and Charlie.”

“We’ll miss you, too,” Rolf says earnestly, watching as the ship finally docks. “But, I suppose it’s time to part ways.”

Charlie is waiting for them outside, leaning against the hull of the ship; the rest of the crew have gathered too to say their farewells, from their matron Hannah to second mate Blaise, but Neville is desperate to get back to Charlie, who hugs both him and Luna so tightly he squeezes the breath out of them, smothering them with warm kisses.

“So, you’ll be studying for another two years, right?” he says, tucking some of Neville’s hair behind his ear; Luna nods. “Great. We’ll be back for you in two years – that is, of course, unless some business brings us back here first...” He has a twinkle in his eye that just suggests, and Rolf grins, too, pressing a kiss to the back of Luna’s neck.

“And we’ll travel?” Neville asks.

“Oh, yes,” Charlie says, rubbing his hands together. “Trust me, dear, you haven’t even seen the half of it yet.”

#hp #fanfic #i write shit #quad ship #rarepair #charlie weasley #rolf scamander #luna lovegood #neville longbottom #charlie x rolf x neville x luna #hp rarepair

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