lnxcharlie-blog

[lnxcharlie-blog]

he feels it, the irritation. hot and red and bubbling just below his skin, unseen except for where the muscles in his hands tense as his fingers curl into fists and the slight pulse of his neck when he clenches his teeth. arthur lee never showed anything though, never gave any indication of a human being behind that face, cool as always. if charlie is fire, all passion and impulsivity, then arthur is ice, cool and hardened to the world. but arthur doesn’t melt, doesn’t show anything, no matter how close charlie is or how intensely his flames burn.

there’s no good explanation for what comes over him, though he’d search for one for weeks afterwards. he’ll tell himself that he just wanted to get a reaction out of the other man, that he wanted to wipe that smug look off his face and pluck that haughty tone out of his mouth. he’s been dying for a reaction, and obviously words haven’t been doing the trick. they talk each other in circles, exchanging childish insults instead of blows, and charlie is always left the one feeling stupid and defeated. he can’t stand for it, he won’t.

it surprises even himself when words don’t spring from his lips. it surprises him when he’s crowding in on arthur lee’s space, taking advantage of his slightly superior height and wider frame. no one, except for possibly arthur, is more surprised than charlie kim when he’s caging the man who’s more or less his arch enemy in with his body with no room for escape.

he kisses him.

it’s passionate in the angriest sort of way, a harsh press of his lips against the slytherin’s; affection has no place here. he’ll say later that it was a reaction he wanted, just something to wipe that forever unreadable expression off of arthur lee’s face. the satisfaction of unsettling him, of winning one of their innumerable little spats for once. charlie would write lists of excuses for his actions later, but in the moment it happens too quickly for a decent cause to be named. and yet as quickly as the action had taken place, it still feels almost like forever. he’s kissing him.

something occurred.

“believe me, i want me here just as much as you do,” he declares easily, indifferently, only a sliver of his already established annoyance slipping through the carefully polished facade he keeps particularly impenetrable around one charlie kim. attempts have been made to chip at it before, usually by charlie’s type, the headstrong gryffindor who thinks they’re bettering society by making arthur’s life miserable, so it’s safe to say arthur is more than prepared to keep it up as long as possible. he’s done it all his life, why stop now?

“if it bothers you so much, maybe you should tell your twat friends to do us all a favor and flush my quidditch gloves down the slytherin toilets next time.” his tone is disdainful, as if he’s lecturing a particularly impertinent child, a counter to the unjustified accusations lingering behind charlie’s words. he has no other business here in his rivals’ locker room than to retrieve his own property. he’s admittedly relieved that he’s only met with charlie and not an entire gang of overgrown lions with nothing but air and muscle where their brains should be. he can take charlie kim on by himself and he knows he’ll escape without so much as a bruise, to his skin or to his pride.

his eyes flicker up and down charlie’s frame, the one deliberately blocking his way out, and he raises a bored brow expectantly.

“am i excused, or have you got a handful of newly prepared primary school insults you’d like to hurl at me first? do be quick, i have packing to finish.”

[lnxcharlie-blog]

“it’s a movie. an old one, but it’s pretty iconic.” it’s been years and charlie still forgets that he can make a reference that will go right over his schoolmates’ heads, but they too often talk about stories and cultural icons that he’s had to struggle to keep up with. maybe mom was a witch, but he can only remember being raised under the influence of his muggle father. charlie doesn’t think that he’ll ever truly master wizard culture while he still spends his christmas breaks and summers in the muggle world, all but completely cut off from whatever news is going around with his magical friends.

he makes a sound, somewhat affronted but still with a note of humor just to ensure she knew he was joking around. “i’m charlie, do i ever learn? and really, 'mean girls’ is like.. a rite of passage. it’s just something you gotta see.” he grins despite knowing that she can’t see it from her angle, somewhat pleased with himself for one reason or another. “i’ll let you live a little bit longer, lucy hirai, if only just to make you watch movies with me.”

the easy conversation between them is refreshing in the most effortless way, charlie speaking and teasing as if to a little sister who he could find rather annoying and yet still adored. teammates, friends, and apparently mafia enemies made for great company and lucy is all three. “i mean, not actively. honestly i haven’t really tried in years, i just sorta remembered.” he doesn’t shrug, not wanting to jostle the girl any more than he already has. “listen. i’m a busy guy with many important things to do and i don’t always have time to clean out the black hole that’s the underside of my bed.”

monkey tree ;

her fingers curl the strands of the back of his hair with mild interest as they travelled, her brows furrowing in question. the godfather? she leaned forward on his shoulder in attempt to look at his face to show her confusion. “was that some type of muggle reference?” because she didn’t understand it otherwise. maybe it would have been funny, had she understood. instead it only confused her.

“where’s that from?” she asked, pouting. a movie, she assumed. or something muggle related. it wasn’t often that she got to do muggle things. the most she did was read books that she managed to get from the library. muggle libraries were pretty boring in comparison to theirs. but maybe this is a reference she should know. was it something that everyone did? she huffed, going back to playing with his hair instead. “i thought you learned last time that i’ve never watched muggle movies before. remember that ‘mean girls’ reference you made once and you got mad because i never saw that movie?”

“ah, that’d be the perfect crime, wouldn’t it?” lucy replied, shaking her head. “maybe you want me out of the picture so no one can take the position from you, huh?” so maybe the mafia reference (whatever that was) seemed to make sense in context. by the sounds of it, it just sounded like the head of a team. or club? maybe? but it fit their conversation so it couldn’t be that outrageous.

she goes back to resting her cheek against his shoulder. “you still collect chocolate frogs?” she mumbles, surprised that a third year would still be interested in such a thing. maybe it was because lucy grew out of that phase when she was younger. or maybe because girls that she hung out with seemed to get over it and so she did as well. “oh! that makes sense.” though she wouldn’t have ridiculed him if he had just been an avid collector as everyone seemed to be when they were younger. “why were they under your bed?” she shook her head. “such disorganisation.”

[lnxcharlie-blog]

he’s not quite expecting the somewhat aggressive clash of shoulder against shoulder, expecting the same cold and uncaring treatment he’s used to from arthur lee. it’s with a blow to his pride that he lets himself be pushed back, forced to take a step to steady himself. it’s infuriating. his jaw clenches, face hardened and it’s all too easy to stir charlie up from irritation into anger, too easy to chip at his fragile pride and watch it crack and shatter in spideweb designs like glass. he’s quick to throw a new barrier up, to defend his stupid ego even when it’s not quite worth it.

“you’re not even supposed to be in here.” there’s something accusatory in his tone, of what is not entirely clear. but his words aren’t entirely false; this is the gryffindor locker room and certainly the historic rivalry between charlie’s house and the intruder’s should be reason enough for him to be aggressively suspicious of arthur’s presence.

perhaps it’s not the most diplomatic move, but the young man puts himself in the slytherin’s path. by all practical means, it’s counter-intuitive to bar the person he had just pointed out doesn’t belong from leaving, but charlie had never been the most practical thinker. he instead holds himself at his full height, thankfully slightly taller than the other or else it’d look pretty pathetic, and glares. “seriously, what’s your problem? you walk in here like you own the place.” when you obviously don’t even belong. the words hang silently in the air, implied by the twitch of charlie’s lips into a frown and the slight narrowing of his eyes.

something occurred.

Arthur had no reason to be entirely thrilled about the school year ending. Summer break wasn’t like the school’s other optional vacations, when he could choose between going home or staying within the halls of Hogwarts (he almost always chose the latter). Summer meant reluctantly packing up his things in an orderly fashion in a way that wouldn’t get him scolded for being messy and careless and uncivilized when he went to unpack them upon his arrival. Summer meant preparing himself to return to the estate far, far away from this beloved castle, to his father and his grandfather, to paintings of ancestors that watched his every move with loathsome expressions, away from friends and classes and Quidditch for an entire three months.

It never showed on his face, because he’d gotten that apt at masking his feelings on the matter, but this was his least favorite time of the year. He was not looking forward to leaving in the slightest, but he had no choice. He would sit in that house for three months, reading for the most part, because there wasn’t much else to do, books mostly, sometimes letters from Lucy or Heather or Theo, letters he promptly responded to, letters his father no longer screened religiously.  

Even now, summer would be three months without Quidditch. Someday there wouldn’t be summer breaks, there would just be endless Quidditch, and he’d have his own place closer to London and he wouldn’t be stuck in Kent with his horrible family and their horrible manor and miserable-looking House Elves.

But for now, he’d be gathering up his gear to stow away in a trunk under his bed, neglected and forgotten and tugging at his very existence every day he didn’t get up in the air. 

A quick survey of the gear stored in his locker told him someone had already gotten to it before he had. Not much was missing, save for the pair of gloves he’d just bought to replace the last vandalized pair. Something told him he’d be out shopping for new ones in the fall. It was more than ironic that Gryffindors were the ones who were always chalked up as heroes, and never as the relentless bullies that they were so capable of becoming. 

And so he found himself in the Gryffindor locker room, wanting to confirm what he knew very well he’d find. Except it wasn’t empty, which was a slight hitch in his plan to be in and out before anyone was the wiser.

“Get over yourself, Kim,” he responded simply, roughly brushing past Charlie, their shoulders colliding, as he made a beeline for the toilet stalls, sighing when he found the gloves in question sitting in a water-logged heap on the floor. He picked them up between two fingers and dropped them in the nearest rash bin before moving to walk right past the Gryffindor without another word.

[lnxcharlie-blog]

something occurred.

@lnxarthur

he can’t lie, he’s a little bit excited for the school year to be over. it’s been a long time since he’s slept in his own bed, in his own house. since he’s seen his dad and tried to convince the man to try dating again even though he knows that he’ll never actually do it. he’s excited that his father doesn’t have to be alone for the next couple months before he has to head back to school where he’ll receive average-ish grades and have the time of his life flying around and trying to keep balls from going through hoops.

but it’s bittersweet. it’s charlie’s least favorite task to clean anything at all, much less the locker room. there’s a finality to it, that the year is really over and he won’t be back in here yelling at and encouraging his team until september rolls back around. he’s lying if he says he won’t miss every single one of them in his own way, even the more troublesome of them ( he’s not going to name any names but the first to come to mind may start with the letter ‘l’ and rhyme with ‘goosey’ ).

so he takes his time. he’s slow to check his own locker, though he knows it’s already empty save for a broken shoelace laying abandoned at the bottom. charlie closes the locker with as soft of a click as he can manage, and he knows it’s far from the last time he’ll be going through his own little end of the year ceremony in the locker room. graduation is far enough away that he’s not anxious over it yet.

the sound of other footsteps don’t bother him at first, figuring it’s just another kid who left something here on accident. he doesn’t think twice about just going about his business when he turns and notices his worst enemy. the phrase itself is dramatic and probably not entirely accurate. he doesn’t quite hate arthur lee, but the guy really gets under his skin. he doesn’t show any expression, he never smiles, and it drives charlie absolutely crazy that he can’t get a decent reaction out of the guy.

“are you following me?” the words come out more hostile than he initially intends, crossing his arms and setting his jaw stubbornly.

[lnxcharlie-blog]

victory.

the sound that the gryffindors make at the announcement of their victory is so similar to the sound that their beloved mascot makes that had he been an outsider observing the final gathering in the great hall, charlie probably would have laughed out loud. instead, he’s joined in on the roaring cheer, jumping to his feet with his hands cupped around his mouth to intensify the sound. when he’s short of breath ( an impressive amount of time, until one thinks about how often he must be shouting at his teammates in practice ) he claps proudly, sharing smiles and “can you believe it?”s ( he can, they’re gryffindor after all ), with the students around him.

and then, he doesn’t see where they come from, but there’s brilliant lights above him and a pyrotechnic lion proudly celebrating his house’s win. lucy. of course it’s lucy. he’s not even going to guess that it might be one of the other kids when it’s so obviously her doing. he’s smiling even as he shakes his head. just what is he gonna do with that girl?

he thinks that he’s done his fair share to contribute to their win, despite the points he must have lost for falling asleep in classes and the poor workmanship on his homework and the fact that he only kept his grades high enough to maintain his position on the quidditch team. okay, maybe he was just as much at fault as some of the troublemakers in his house, but never has he done something as truly dumb as set off fireworks indoors. they’ve probably already lost points for next year’s competition, but he’ll worry about that when september rolls back around. for now, he’s kind of excited to see his dad again. a break is well needed after a time, after all.

[lnxcharlie-blog]

it’s hard to keep a smile off of his face when joking around with lucy, even if he has to exert a little bit of extra effort to carry her on his back. it was probably good for him anyways, and despite his dedication to athletics he wasn’t always a fan of rolling out of bed in the morning for a quick run. carrying his little friend into town would be a suitable replacement for all those times he’s shirked his own workouts, surely.

the breath on his ear is ticklish and it’s all that charlie can do not to immediately rub against his own shoulder, a chill running down his spine in protest of the slightly uncomfortable feeling. he makes a low sound, something of shock and complaint at the girl’s words. “what are you, the godfather? lucy, are you running a secret underground organized crime ring? are you smuggling sweets into the castle?” it’s fun to let the plot get more imaginative as he speaks and he knows she’ll hear the playful lilt of his voice despite being unable to see the expression on his face. “how come i’m not part of your crime family? jesus, luce, i thought we were friends.”

a chuckle rumbles up from his chest just imagining how silly the two of them would look if it were him trying to climb on lucy’s back. “i’d crush you, probably. then there’d be no one to challenge my position as captain,” and after a moment of hesitation, he added “and no head to your mafia either. guess i’ll have to take over that too.” 

he’s content to let her ramble on and on about her favorite sweets for the moment, though there’s a flash of worry that she’s about to fall off when she wiggles. really, charlie should know better. his star seeker doesn’t fall off her broom unless it’s on purpose, she’s not going to fall off of his back. he hums as he’s asked a question, considering his options even though she may as well have listed the entire store’s inventory just a moment ago. “maybe i should work on my chocolate frog card collection. i found a whole bunch of them under my bed over christmas break, probably from primary school. i forgot that i used to be obsessed with them.”

monkey tree ;

“yes!” lucy agreed despite recognising his patronising tone. “pity me!” she laughed, knowing that the elder was only joking as always. she rested her cheek on his shoulder comfortably.this wasn’t the first time momo had found herself perched on his back and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “hmm, deal!” she said finally.

she squeaked every time he gave extra movement, knowing that on her end it’d be a bit more rough. she laughed, clinging to him tightly with a murmured complaint that wasn’t even half serious. “i wouldn’t want to be captain if it was at your expense!” she said, poking the back of charlie’s head with mild gusto. she smirked, knowing that he couldn’t see her expression while she was playing. “besides, if you’re to be wiped out…” she leaned into his ear to whisper. “it’s by my order, ya got that?” lucy laughed.

in all honesty, lucy genuinely enjoyed her time with charlie and with him as captain. it would be a lie if she said she always did. on the contrary, she wanted to be captain when the time came. but obviously, the position had already been given away. it had been well known that lucy had fought for the captain spot since primary. not earning the position came at a great cost to her confidence and her will to play for the school’s team. but now that they were in secondary, she’s fine with not being elected the captain position. though the urge was always present. ambition was in her genes, they all knew that. so not being top dog will always be an issue for her. at least she could be respectable about it now.

lucy rolled her eyes. “you’re like three times my size! your feet will touch the ground!” she laughed at her own exaggeration, shaking her head. “you can practically walk with just me under you!” though if charlie wanted to, she’d give him a piggyback ride in a heartbeat. as long as the rest of their team wasn’t present with cameras. she knew how they could be.

“yay honeydukes!” lucy declared with childlike excitement. she clapped her hands in front of his chest, wiggling on his back excitedly. “i really want cauldron cakes, you know? oh! and i need more berny bots! i ran out. and oh god, i hear they restocked their animal candy. i want to try the monkey one and really live out being lucy the monkey!” she bounced herself on his back, rattling off the list of candies excitedly. ‘monkey’ was a term bestowed upon her by arthur, after she so fondly calls him fox. he replied, with a small smirk, that she was so much like a monkey and it stuck. “what are you going to get?”

[lnxcharlie-blog]

married au ( but not to each other. one of those shitty couple parties with the finger sandwiches and the my house/car is bigger than your house/car thingies. #superspecific )

he’s not sure how they ended up becoming the gossiping housewives.

there was a shriek from one of the children outdoors, a laugh from the standing gaggle of women and wives as they sipped out of long stemmed glasses and bragged about timmy being on honor roll and judy’s catch that won them the game in their little league baseball team. the men, the husbands, sprawled out over the couches and seats wrapping their lips around bottles of their own and complaining about work and talking about their big league sports.

“yeah, my boys and i are building a tree house.” charlie’s smile remained, though irritation bubbled under his skin at valentin’s boastful tone. “well, i’m building it. they hand me nails and i show them how to measure the boards.”

“that must be fun,” a murmur of confirmation ran through the group of men, all nodding their approval.

charlie shifted in his seat, straightening up ever so slightly as if to remind everyone that he was the tallest in the room. “my little girl helped me change a tire on her momma’s car the other day. i think she’ll be a mechanic someday, she was so interested in it all.” some of the men sounded surprised, one laughed out loud and patted charlie on the back and congratulated him for having a daughter who’ll never need a man to do her dirty work.

“my daughter has been too busy with her french lessons to do such things, i’m afraid.” charlie didn’t miss that curl of valentin’s lips, and he very nearly dipped his own mouth into a frown.

“jeffrey spent the summer with my cousins in seoul last year. came back bilingual!” charlie laughed, as if it hadn’t become a competition.

[lnxcharlie-blog]

soulmate au

she would notice the way he’d pick idly at the little red thread that wrapped around his pinky finger, like he hadn’t gotten used to the fact that it was even there. the little loop around her own finger was already a familiar presence, and lucy was sure that she would feel like her finger was naked without it.

charlie shifted next to her uncomfortably. she couldn’t blame him.

“so what are we gonna do about this?” he lifted his hand, the thread moving with it and tugging her own finger just the slightest bit. never in a million years did either of them imagine that their strings would untangle and lead to each other. lucy was a little sister, charlie was a dumb big brother. in a world where soulmates seemed to be synonymous with romance, it was no wonder that charlie felt a little awkward.

“you know it doesn’t have to be like.. get married and have two kids and a labradoodle kind of soulmate, right?”

lucy’s words are slow to register with the boy, who’s eyes suddenly widen as if he had never heard of such a thing before.

“i mean,” she continues, “it could be like ‘i’ve always got your back and we’re gonna be best friends forever’ sort of thing.”

charlie held out his hand, the one with the string tied to it, and lucy took it in her own.

“you’re right. but of course, you always are.” charlie grinned.

[lnxcharlie-blog]

au drabble meme!

Every now and again, your lovely admins will post memes on the dash to keep things lively and active! Remember, only the admin team is allowed to start memes and we please ask you to never exceed a week (at most) with meme clutter, as we would like to get back to the central plot of the RP after the meme is through! The rules are as they always are: reblog to show that you’re up to receiving prompts and please remember to send to everyone who reblogged! Remember: it’s not fun if only one person gets all the memes!

>>| college roommates au

>>| soulmate au

>>| break up au (or post break up)

>>| dating au

>>| muggle au

>>| family au (siblings, cousins, parent-child etc)

>>| married au

>>| parenting au

>>| one night stand au

>>| words never said au

>>| afterlife au

[lnxcharlie-blog]

amusement is not what he wants to see on the other man’s face. it doesn’t quite register with him in his angered state that charlie has a very cliche idea of what respect should look like. it certainly doesn’t look like a laugh in the face of someone who’s obviously seething already. arthur just seems to know exactly what buttons to push, how to elicit reactions out of charlie when the exact opposite was the goal. it takes the gryffindor time to realize that he’s lost, that nothing he’s doing is any good toward his cause.

it’s almost enough that he can watch that smirk be wiped from arthur’s face when he’s pushed. it’s not enough to make charlie try it again, though. he can feel the pack behind him and their quick decision that the slytherin was an enemy and that they needed blood or bruises. it sickens him enough to pull himself back for a moment, regretful that he even laid a hand on the other to start. it was uncalled for in any circumstance, even when he was just so desperate to get some stupid reaction. charlie was not a bully. he’d never be one, no matter how it was starting to appear now.

he doesn’t feel any change on his face even though his blind rage has started to pass and more intelligent thoughts have started to creep back into his head, but he does let himself be pushed back a step. it seems that he’s still grasping at straws for the sake of the clique now, just trying to live up to that image they expect of him and not letting his honor be challenged by some pretty boy who just happened to have a bad expression on his face when he had been walking by.

“you flatter yourself if you think i dream about you.” the words still come out nastily, but he can’t have his masculinity challenged in front of the pack. “sorry to let you down, lee. it’s okay though, i won’t say anything when i catch you staring.” there’s a loud guffaw from the clique and a few other calls and reactions that put a smirk back on charlie’s face. 

` differences and impulses

between fight or flight, the smart instinct here is the latter. but neither option seems particularly realistic or desirable, leaving arthur in a strange limbo between the two, where the pair willingly spit useless insults at each other until charlie kim gets so red in the face that he can no longer breathe past all the hot air making up the spot in his head where his brain should be. but certainly a scoff in passing, a few childish words spat back and forth across the hall like poison, aren’t enough to garner such visible rage from his peer. it only confirms the general suspicion that anyone who spends a long time gryffindor house gradually loses control of their temper, as if there’s something in the water.

he does scoff again, this time genuinely amused, because he’s never been called ‘self-righteous’ before, after a lifetime of living under the shadow of his family’s own questionable moral standards. apparently charlie can be rather funny when he absolutely isn’t trying to be. he lets a tiny sliver of amusement shine through his facade, because it’s a harmless emotion considering the circumstances; harmless in a sense that, though it might actually bring him harm, it doesn’t hurt the solid mask of indifference he wears that seems to irk his foe so heavily.

any slight indication of that amusement is temporarily wiped away when he’s pushed roughly, mostly because he’s surprised. anyone else and he would’ve seen it coming a mile away, but charlie’s never been one to back up his words with physicality. he stumbles back, works on quickly recovering his footing and staying visibly (though not mentally) calm in spite of the fact that the other male seems insistent on eliminating any respectful personal space between the two of them.

arthur is all too aware of the sounds of the other gryffindors egging charlie on behind him, but a glance spared over his shoulder shows the slytherin that they are still heeling at the opposite side of the hall like the obedient dogs they are.

he is far from comfortable with the proximity, with charlie’s relentless attempts to intimidate him (and if he is slightly intimidated by the situation as a whole, it still doesn’t show). he frowns just a little, because charlie is breathing hot air on his face and that would be unpleasant for anyone, and slowly but firmly pushes charlie away from him with five fingertips to his chest, as if his idiocy is contagious.

“until you sprout tits–and a brain–keep dreaming, kim.”

[lnxcharlie-blog]

he thinks there’s a moment of victory, a moment where the other is bending to his demands and charlie will be able to walk away feeling good about himself for having stared an arrogant slytherin down. but arthur explains himself fully and in less than kind words and charlie can feel his lip curl sourly, his nostrils flare, and his brow furrow as if his expression could get any angrier than it already was.

“obviously. and you’re a self-righteous prick.” it might not be the best verbal retaliation that he had ever uttered or was ever capable of, but he was past the point of caring. he just had to win, he had to walk away feeling like he had come out on top rather than getting kicked around himself. it could be argued that since the young man had already clearly lost his temper, it was already his defeat. but charlie didn’t see it as such, and he was sure that the group around him hadn’t yet come to that conclusion either. really, that was what mattered. saving face, doing what was expected of him.

eyes flicker over the other young man quickly, carefully, looking for any sign of reaction. the occasional brow raise, that one step back. that was all that charlie ever got. it was infuriating. even as arthur answered him with insults of his own he still kept that same god damn expression and charlie couldn’t repress the urge to smack it right off if his face. he’d save that aggression for later, for the pitch where such urges were much better exercised.

it doesn’t stop him, though, from pressing the palms of his hands against arthur’s chest in a short shove, only intended to knock him off balance for a moment and maybe finally put some sort of look of anger or fear or something on that face. his clique roars their approval and a certain mild dislike boils at the back of charlie’s mind. they’re so eager for violence, so enthralled with the idea of trading blows when charlie would much rather walk away without feeling like he’s just become the thing that his father so carefully taught him not to be.

“you spend enough time thinking about what an ‘obnoxious twat’ i am anyways.” he’s up in arthur’s face, still trying to incite a reaction of some sort even if it means taking a punch himself. “i’m everyone’s type, lee.”

` differences and impulses

it seems to be getting past that certain point where arthur should fear hexes or fists or both. he could walk away now, but something tells him that’ll only make it worse.  lucy might have his hide if he doesn’t. though, she might have his hide if he does. she’s even more unpredictable than the seething lion in front of him and he finds himself grateful, as usual, that he somehow found himself on her good side early on.

“excuse me? say it plainly.”

“alright then,” he concedes, almost too easily, only for it to become perfectly clear a moment later why he’s so willing to do as he’s told, “i think you’re an obnoxious twat. that plain enough for you?”

perhaps it’s testosterone’s natural inclination toward defending one’s pride that keeps him standing upright in the face of an obviously enraged giant and spouting surprisingly honest words, even if they are blatantly insulting. but his carefully constructed exterior doesn’t falter, even when his eyes flicker to the movement spotted over charlie’s shoulder, an overzealous minion put back in his place by a single glance. arthur scoffs, because the irony of the situation is almost laughable; it’s slytherins who get the bad rap, and yet a group of mindless lions is just as likely to corner someone they don’t like with unspoken threats of violence hanging over their heads.

“are you really telling me to back down?” he figures he doesn’t have to clarify that he’s addressing the fact that it’s charlie who’s insisted on the physical intimidation, that it’s the gryffindor who continues to maintain the disrespectful lack of space between them.

arthur ceases the attempt to back away when it becomes clear that it’s mostly futile, hooking a thumb under the strap of his bookbag to hoist it further up on his shoulder, his brow twitching in its slight raise. he’s not quite sure, but it’s starting to feel like charlie is dangerously close to hitting him, and though it doesn’t necessarily show on his face, it does faze him just a little. he’s not particularly keen on finding out what the others might do should charlie decide to take a swing at him.

“sorry, kim,” his hand lingers on the strap of his bag, a subtle safety blanket in the face of who-know-what’s to come, expression still impossibly placid in spite of it all, tone as matter-of-fact as if he were stating the week’s weather forecast, “you’re not my type.”

[lnxcharlie-blog]

it takes a moment for it to dawn on him, the meaning of the words spit back at him. it’s only when he thinks back on the moment that he’ll have time to worry if his puzzlement showed on his face or not but he can feel his expression turn darker nonetheless when it finally settles. if life were like a cartoon, charlie kim would be blowing steam out of his ears and red with anger. arthur kept kicking at his ego, digging sharp little blows into what charlie perceives as his pride, his honor. his character is being attacked, and as short tempered and stubborn as he is, the young man liked to think that he wasn’t nearly so bad as to be arthur fucking lee’s entire problem.

“excuse me? say it plainly.” he’s growling quite literally now, fingers digging into his own arms still crossed against his chest. even in this fired up state he’d still prefer that to getting physical. charlie prides himself on being above that, but the feral urge to hit and fight still makes his palms itch irritably.

someone to his left takes a step forward and the leader of the pack snaps his head around to look at who dared make a move. there must be something in his eyes that tells his friend to back down, that if anyone is going to make things physical it’s going to be charlie himself.

his jaw already aches from how tightly he’s been clenching it and it’s a wonder a tooth hasn’t cracked in there. “back the fuck down, lee. you don’t know shit about me.” it goes without saying that charlie’s grades aren’t the best, that his giant ego and precious pride makes him stop caring about any class that doesn’t come as easy as breathing to him. it translates to him as saving face, as building up a persona who’s unconcerned about things he doesn’t like and is fun and enviable. but charlie’s not proud of his marks, and it strikes a certain nerve that’s typically unstruck for him. 

arthur takes a step back, charlie takes another step forward to snarl in his face once again as if that intimidation tactic would work any better this time. there’s no words that come to mind, he’s never been particularly eloquent and even less so when he’s half-blinded by anger. “fuck you, lee.”

` differences and impulses

he’d expected a reaction, but not one of this strength, at least not right away. he had no intentions of inciting a quarrel (though, technically, he hadn’t been the one to incite it at all), because those often ended in his own state being worse for wear compared to his more outspoken peers. and though charlie was always more bark than bite, his cohorts weren’t always so merciful. nonetheless, the option of simply walking away and leaving the gryffindor to mull around in his overflowing ego didn’t seem an option just yet. yes, arthur was perfectly used to having his character questioned at every turn, quite literally in this case, but it was not often he took the opportunity to defend himself, and only in the way that he knew how.

“my problem? i’m sorry, kim, but i don’t think you have the time. although you’d probably love spending all day talking about yourself. it is the one subject you do care about, after all.”

“you think you’re so fucking great, don’t you?”

the murmurs of assent did not go unnoticed by the slytherin, whose resolve faltered at being so vastly outnumbered but whose expression didn’t twitch at all, save for on a microscopic level. nothing about this situation was remotely new to him, which meant it was nothing he hadn’t spent years building up a solid defense against. the close proximity was likely meant to be intimidating, but the intimidation factor was somewhat lost considering how close in height they were and how, even on the pitch, he’d never felt physically threatened by one charlie kim.

“i don’t, but you seem to think so about yourself. why else would you so confidently slack off in nearly every class you’ve ever set foot in? you must be positively gifted. but if you’re so bloody great, maybe you and your lackeys should take the next class off,” he did, however, take a small, nearly imperceptible step back, uncomfortable with such close proximity with anyone, let alone the gryffindor keeper, “leave the rest of us to do our learning in peace, hm?”

[lnxcharlie-blog]

there’s something infuriating about that sense of calm that just clings to arthur eternally. there’s no emotion, hardly any visual response, and it drives charlie absolutely insane. he wants to see some expression, be it disgust or irritation or anything. it never occurs to him that he thinks of it as a challenge now, to get some sort of response out of arthur lee in some way. he doesn’t notice it in himself that his pride and competitive spirit got caught up in even something like this.

he feels his own face twist down into a frown and his nose wrinkle up in irritation at the verbal response though. “there you go again, acting like you’re better than us for some reason.” charlie crosses his arms, stands up at his full height which would have been considerably more desperate looking if he wasn’t just slightly taller than the other young man, and manages his best glare. “what the hell is your problem?” he’s angry, of course. no one likes to be called stupid and he knows that he’s not so. maybe he’s lazy in some classes, but he’s certainly not an idiot.

“you think you’re so fucking great, don’t you?” charlie hears the murmurs around him, encouraging him on with mumbles of agreement and other soft complaints against arthur lee’s words or demeanor. it doesn’t help a hotheaded youth like himself cool off at all, and before he even thinks about if it’s a good idea or not he takes a step closer to the other. he has half a mind to uncross his arms and shove arthur back a little, as if jostling him will put some sort of shaken look on his face. but he’s still just barely calm enough not to, even if he’s more or less snarling by now.

` differences and impulses

he hadn’t meant to provoke the unavoidable group of loudmouthed lions (or perhaps, subconsciously, he had), but there was not much that could be done about it now. he’d been spotted, garnering an audible sigh from his lips and an annoyed eye roll that he didn’t bother masking. he had plenty of other valuable things he meant to do with his free period, things like getting a head start on his potions essay or taking a few laps around the pitch. fending off a bunch of loud, rowdy gryffindors didn’t exactly fit into his schedule.

charlie’s words rang clearly through the otherwise empty hallway, bringing arthur to a slow stop in his tracks, turning casually on his heel as if he couldn’t be bothered to do so. he was silently grateful for the lack of a certain more violent gryffindor among the group of hotheads as he faced them, raising an eyebrow, his expression otherwise perfectly stoic.

“share?” he passed a glance over all their faces before landing back on their overgrown ringleader, as if thinking on the decision he’d made several moments (see: years) ago, “no, not particularly. wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with too many big words.”

it was more than he’d initially intended to say, more insulting than he’d initially decided to be. and yet, he found himself perfectly content with what he’d ultimately uttered, finding his frustrations from the day’s charms lecture starting to dissipate a little just from his telling charlie kim and his precious lackeys to sod off, in just as many words.

[lnxcharlie-blog]

he couldn’t help but stiffen for a moment when there was a cold nose on his neck, a noise of complaint rising from his chest at lucy’s sudden cuddliness. charlie was almost certain that she’d poke fun at him for saying so, but the girl was honestly adorable even despite the chill that ran rapidly down his spine from her nuzzling. charlie relaxed soon enough anyways, sighing deeply at his friend as if about to begin a lecture. “you poor thing." okay, so he was a bit patronizing there, bite him.

a chuckle escaped him, no doubt jostling the passenger on his back ever so slightly. charlie wasn’t worried. he might be pretty tall, but he knows that the girl has tumbled down from greater heights and she always bounced back like some sort of rubber ball and boomerang hybrid. “well? deal?” his eyebrows raised as if she’d be able to see them from her position on his back as he waited for an answer.

a triumphant smile lit up charlie’s face as the girl agreed to buy him a meal. charlie kim, like most young men, would never say no to free food. “you sure about that? i mean, if i starved to death right now you’d be the natural next in line for captain. not feeling ambitious today?” there’s a joking lilt to his voice and a little extra bounce in his next step that he’s sure lucy will feel.

“mmm, we’ll see about the return trip. why don’t you ever give me piggyback rides, luce? it’s always poor old me doing the hard work.” the overdramatization of his words once again made the suggestion a joke, and the idea alone of little lucy trying to carry his giant frame around brings another laugh to his lips. “honeydukes? okay, i suppose we can do that too.”

monkey tree ;

another gust of wind had her clutching to charlie for warmth. she pouted and nodded. she had to admit she was a bit off her game. lucy was barely the type to be affected by the weather but it held true today. she nuzzled her face against his neck, mumbling about how her stomach was making the rumblies or something akin to that. “i deserve a good meal!” she mumbled more coherently, moving her face away from his neck once she was sure the wind would stop blowing.

she straightened herself on his back, feeling as though she were slipping. she casually adjusted herself on his back with her hands resting on his shoulders and her legs hooking around him securely. she notes that no matter how many times she does this, she’s still not used to the height difference. her fingers start playing with his hair as she contemplates his proposal.

“hmm, fine. only because i don’t need my poor captain starving,” lucy replied with a smile of her own. there wasn’t an audible giggle but her tone suggested that she would have. she leaned over his shoulder just enough to catch his side profile. “does that include a piggy back ride when we head back to hogwarts or is that pushing it?” she didn’t consider herself close to being heavy. she was 5′3 and barely had the weight to match her height. she was thin despite her huge appetite and definitely toned thanks to dance, quidditch and her acrobatic stunts. even so, she didn’t want to push charlie to exhaustion from carrying her back.

lucy lifted her foot, eyeing the pink shoelace that had come undone. she’d do it once they were there and charlie let her down. for now she ignored it and poked charlie’s cheek. “you got yourself a deal if it includes a quick trip to honeydukes after!”

[lnxcharlie-blog]

honestly, it was rather amazing that charlie wasn’t asked to leave the room or that any points weren’t taken away from his house for his blatant disrespectful behavior. the young man wasn’t a completely awful student, really, charms was just so damn boring that it was a struggle to stay awake and alert. he didn’t think it was his fault. the professor could be a little more interesting, speak in a little less of a monotone, maybe crack a joke every now and then to keep students’ attention. it wasn’t charlie’s fault that he was stuck in a class with a teacher who sucked at teaching.

in all fairness, the young man’s evaluation of his professor wasn’t entirely justified. it was entirely charlie’s fault that he really struggled with charms back in primary school and then completely shut himself out to ever being able to learn properly. oh, he wasn’t entirely useless at them, but he didn’t want to look like he cared. if he tried hard and failed, then he looked like a fool. the pride of a gryffindor was strong in this young wizard to the point where he’d take a failing grade that he probably could have slipped by without rather than look like something he considered undesirable.

the group around him were a bit meaner in nature than himself, thought charlie suspected that their reasons for slacking off during class were similar to his own. they’d scan the room for the kids who looked like they gave a shit and mutter about “too many fuckin’ nerds around here”. charlie would agree, but he didn’t like fueling their fire. he was a poor student and arrogant as hell, not a bully. and he didn’t like feeling like one of those either.

he was vocally thankful when the class was dismissed, bounding out of the room with his clique like an energetic pack of dogs. they were rowdy, obnoxious, and charlie loved every second of it. they pushed each other around playfully, trading jibes and jeers in that friendly manner they had among themselves, and in general being a little bit of a ruckus in the hall.

charlie thought it was unusual for anyone else to be in the hall with them by now, typically everyone had already skittered off to their next class or elsewhere to enjoy some free time. but there was one kid, a slytherin that he recognized well and made charlie himself turn green with envy.

“stop acting like you’re better than us or some shit,” it didn’t come out of charlie’s mouth, but rather the kid next to him and he was almost inclined to agree. he didn’t get it; what made arthur lee so damn special?

his mouth did open when he hears the scoff from the young man, his mouth twisting into a frown and eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “what was that? care to share, lee?”

` differences and impulses

@lnxcharlie

arthur liked charms. in fact, arthur liked most, if not of all of his classes. there wasn’t really a day where he didn’t leave class feeling grateful for everything he’d learned, save for those lessons on boggarts (and those on patronuses that he didn’t even stay around for for reasons too far beneath his guarded exterior for anyone to really understand). certainly defense against the dark arts had a tendency to verge on unbearable when red-and-gold whispers, glares, cruel laughter, directed at perfectly fed up green-and-silvers drowned out anything a professor could possibly hope to successfully teach, but even then, he found himself glad he was here, fending off the gossip of judgmental gryffindors and not the bright burning curses of his grandfather’s wand.

what arthur wasn’t fond of was those who seemed to go out of their way to disrupt a perfectly interesting lesson. he, unlike many in his class, apparently, found great value in the various advanced repairing spells they were studying, the ones that seamlessly stitched ripped fabric back together or perhaps snapped wood of the non-magical variety, the ones that would eventually, once mastered, segue into the lessons about repairing the human body, about successfully knitting together bone, tissue, skin. he had no intention of going into any healing professions, but they were all spells that would be useful on the pitch, at the very least, and, admittedly, in everyday life.

charlie kim seemed to have different plans, plans that involved sleeping through pertinent lessons and using his textbook as a pillow, or, when he wasn’t snoring softly into the carefully crafted text of charms scholars, chatting loudly with his equally obnoxious peers as if no one around them was actually attempting to get the education they were here for.

arthur kept his complaints to himself usually, to avoid the inevitable conflict of inciting the wrath of a thousand gryffindors (certainly being friends with lucy and dealing with one lion temper on a regular basis was plenty). he would take out his frustrations with the gryffindor captain on the pitch, chaser against keeper, like always. it was rational, logical, and kept him as much out of the most negative spotlight as possible. but it also meant he had to force himself to sit through the disruptions of charlie’s cult on a regular basis, which was frustrating, to say the very least.

the lesson ended and he lingered behind, only to ask the professor a quick clarification question about the importance of the materials being bonded, especially if they didn’t happen to be the same. by the time he was heading out into the hall, his classes done for the day, it was mostly empty, save for the handful of gryffindors still lingering about, including charlie, who was undoubtedly blowing off some equally important lesson because he simply couldn’t be bothered to go.

arthur tch’ed quietly, his expression otherwise placid, and walked past the group, shifting the strap of his book bag further up on his shoulder and silently wishing they’d all turn into something quiet, like rabbits, or ants. how much more pleasant life would be then.

[lnxcharlie-blog]

she may as well be more monkey than human with the way she so easily climbed up his back, and charlie was more than aware that he was by no means a short young man. that, and the flashy tricks she liked to do with her broom and he couldn’t helped but be amazed with what he believed was near inhuman agility.

“you’re full of complaints today, huh?” there was a smile on charlie’s face despite the sort of scoff in his tone, something he was sure that the girl would pick up on despite the fact that he wasn’t facing her. “you need your calories after a good practice, honeybun, even if i could tell you weren’t on your toes today.”

he’ll forgive her for that this time. charlie felt the gloom of the weather himself, but that was hardly something he could let show as long as he wore the proud title of captain. “alright, how about this; i let you ride on my back into hogsmeade and then you treat us both to something to eat. sound fair? you wouldn’t want your poor captain starving in the sky, right?” charlie can’t help but throw her words back at her like a clever little game. momo wasn’t all that heavy and it’d be easy enough, but it’s fun to bargain anyways.

monkey tree ;

“charlie can we just go to hogsmeade?” momo muttered in the tall male’s ear from her place on his back. she clung to him, her cheek resting on his shoulder while her face was turned towards his neck. he still smelled like the soap he had cleaned his body with but his body had a slight gleam of sweat from their workout they finished just a few minutes ago.

normally, she was the type to bounce right into practise, literally flipping onto her broom to get the mock game running. writing up plays in her mind, playing off of people’s strengths and working with their weaknesses. but today she felt sluggish and with the sun obscured by the clouds and the breeze making it feel too cold for a may day, she simply felt sluggish in comparison.

her stomach grumbled. “hear that? i’m hungry. do you want your seeker starving in the sky?” she said, attempting to rationalise her need to do something that requires her being inside. she wore her sports bra but wore yoga pants in place of her usual shorts. she shivered, clinging to kibum’s body. it radiated heat. it was comforting. “charlie, i’m cold.”

@lnxcharlie

[lnxcharlie-blog]

quick intro? quick intro.

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