#except what did they do to gerty

[maraczeks]

the flatshare thread pt 1

[serra-says]

thinking about Fabian in ep10 (Cursed Out) failing the bard class DC by 1 and very nearly taking a rage token to reroll it. instead he used a cursed bardic inspiration from Fig which later led to The Incident With Terpsichore (which I won't even get started on tbh) however—

imagine Fabian having taken the rage token instead, which as a reminder has the effect of taking away 1d10 of spell slots but also causes your character to lash out at another character, seriously damaging their relationship and causing permanent disadvantage on persuasion rolls against them.

there's two ways this could go. first one I'm thinking of, is the other Bad Kids. right after this (in ep 11), they text the group chat. "Emergency meeting. Even you, Fabian." Fabian responds "Guys, I am busy." and the joke is repeated by Adaine who asks them to come over to Basrar's. even Fabian.

he's being singled out again. in canon, the kids proceed to tease him about what happened in bard class, but since that didn't happen here due to him taking a rage token, I imagine they might tease him for something else. Gilear and Hallariel's new children, perhaps, or his fear of rats again. something that really isn't all that funny that gets his heart in his throat and drowns out his friends' laughter with ringing.

he doesn't mean to, necessarily, but he's been crazy stressed all year, loneliness and anxiety building and his friends not being reliably there for him. something about the way they make light of something he struggles with rubs him the wrong way and he snaps.

then we could have either a heartfelt conversation in which the other kids realise how badly Fabian's been doing all year and apologise, or attempt to step up. he could finally verbalize his fears and trauma without being mocked or hurt for it since the stakes have upped and they're all in a serious situation together. it might end up strengthening their bond, even if it does mean he gets permanent disadvantage on persuasion against I'd imagine Riz, since he claimed he was fine for so long while being obviously anything but that Riz is never going to believe him again. this is the good ending.

the bad ending would be that the other Bad Kids react similarly like they did on Leviathan, yell back and the permanent disadvantage is on whoever made the last remark — except that it's because the argument causes a rift, and there's a loss of trust between them. honestly my least favourite outcome, but hey, gotta mention it.

the other, and in my opinion more probable outcome, is that he lashes out at Hallariel. pretty much right after Fabian re-rolls for bard class and they meet up at Basrar's, the Bad Kids and entourage head to Fallinel. there, they meet Telemaine again, and Hallariel comes over.

she greets Fabian briefly and checks on his academics and how he's been taking care of the house, and then moves on to ask Kristen about Gertie — Fabian's nemesis. then the Bad Kids move on to the lore they're researching and that's about all interaction Fabian has with his mother.

so let's say that all happens as it does in canon, except Fabian's stressed. anxiety trembling in his bones, there's an uptick in his heartbeat that has his muscles tensing and a sense of unfairness crawling up his throat every time he looks between the Thistlesprings travelling together with Gorgug; Sandra Lynn and Fig who are off having a heart-to-heart, and his mother, who has already flitted away to return to whatever the hell she was doing before he came over.

and that unfairness boils over into fury. it's not just unfair— it's unjust. he's put in so much effort this year to be something more, something bigger than his father's legacy. he's done everything right, as much as he can, so why won't his mother exchange more than four sentences with him? why can't she pull him into a hug the way Jawbone does to the other Bad Kids or at the very least pretend that she cares about him, so that he doesn't have to wonder why Gilear is more deserving of her love than he is.

and it surges out until it spills from behind his teeth, vicious and biting and echoing in the silence that stretches out between them. the same silence that's been there since the day he was born, the day she looked at her newborn and decided sobriety was too much of a task if it meant she had to actually spend time with the child she made.

it's not pretty. it's a scene, and he's aware he's causing a scene but there's red in his vision and an ache behind his ribs and he's barely aware of the crushing pressure in his veins. Hallariel draws her sword, and Fabian, for the first time in his life, truly fights back.

they're separated, of course, no real harm done to anything other than the bare threads of familial relationship that never truly seemed to do anything to keep the two together, but. when he wipes away the blood, later, just a few lucky slashes that he's never known how to dodge despite years of practicing with her — there's a few red crystalline structures on the rag.

[wellamarke]

Unusual Customers

For Otter Day 2025! But, brilliantly, also for the Carolyn Month of May prompt of the same title. That’s called being economical that is ���

Also on AO3

It’s absolutely a prank phone call. This much is obvious from the moment she picks up the phone. But since Arthur, Herc and Douglas are all in full view, in the portacabin, not hidden away somewhere doing a silly voice on the phone, Carolyn decides to play along with the caller to see which of them seems most obviously amused as it unfolds.

“They’ll be kept very calm, in their travel cages,” says the woman who’s calling herself Andrea Morris. It’s not Theresa, that much is clear. The voice is too mature to be Honour Richardson and Carolyn would be very surprised if Arthur’s current pony club girl possessed the brains to attempt this nonsense. “And they don’t carry any diseases that can be transferred to humans, even by bite - not that they’ll bite anyone - as I say, they’ll be kept very calm…”

“I see,” says Carolyn. “This does rather seem like something one would have arranged well in advance.”

“Oh, it was all completely sorted,” says Andrea, flustered. “But at the very last moment the charter firm we’d booked pulled out. They didn’t even give a reason.”

“And you are assuming the reason was not related to you asking them to fly with rabid otters on board.”

Carolyn surveys the occupants of the portacabin. Arthur looks extremely excited, but that’s practically his default, so it’s not suspicious. Douglas looks intrigued. Herc’s expression is a simper, because he has noticed her looking at him, so she rolls her eyes and returns her attention to the spluttering voice on the phone.

“They’re — they’re certainly not rabid!”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” Carolyn rotates her desk chair to look up at the wall chart. May as well force it to the reveal. “The twentieth of March, you say?”

“If at all possible. We would be so grateful.”

“Mmm. What’s the conversion rate of gratitude to pounds sterling?”

“Well… we are a charity, so it’s not that money’s no object, but… we really really need to move them.”

Carolyn hums again, considering. “I think we may be able to help,” she says. “I will call you back with the details.”

‘Andrea Morris’ - if that is indeed her name - blusters through copious ‘thank yous’ and confirms that she can be reached on the same number later on, and when a pause eventually arrives, Carolyn takes the chance to say goodbye and hang up.

“So, then,” she looks around at the men, none of whom seem to betray themselves as the culprit. “What is this? Some anniversary of your piano removal day?”

Douglas considers. “That was in the summer, I think,” he says. “Did I overhear correctly - are we actually going to have otters on Gerti?”

“It seems so.”

Arthur looks ready to actually explode. “Brilliant!”

“What have otters got to do with pianos?” Herc asked from his corner.

“Oh, once Martin needed to get a piano to Wales except he’d hurt his ankle so me and Douglas did it with him. And we went to a place where a Saint was eaten by otters.”

Herc turns to his captain for confirmation.

“More or less,” says Douglas. “Ottery St Mary. Little place in Wales. Admittedly I might have embellished the origins of the name for Arthur’s entertainment. I’ve since found out there actually is a patron Saint of Otters, but it’s not Mary.”

“Oh?”

“Cuthbert, apparently.”

Carolyn tunes around from the wall chart she’s been scribbling on. “That’s who we’re flying.”

“WHAT? We’re flying a Saint?!”

“Well, no. But the sanctuary who just phoned me, they’re called St Cuthbert’s Otter Rehabilitation.”

“Brilliant!”

“Well then,” says Douglas. “We surely can’t risk angering a Saint.”

“Wow, I wish Martin was here for this,” Arthur enthuses. Then he casts a guilty look at Herc. “Sorry Herc. It’s brilliant having you flying with us. But Martin was really funny about otters coming on the plane.”

“Yes, he practically went into paroxysms, even though it was completely hypothetical. Or so we thought! How many otters are we having, Carolyn?”

“I hope it’s a hundred!”

“About twenty, I think. Or just under. She wasn’t sure about one of them. It might be in too delicate a condition to move.”

“Wow! I can definitely imagine twenty otters.”

“Or nineteen otters,” Herc amends.

“Nineteen?”

“Your mother just said one might not be coming.”

“Oh. Yes, nineteen.”

“Times really have changed since Martin was here,” Douglas quips. Arthur doesn’t seem to notice, but Carolyn catches his eye and grins.

“Can we put it on the group chat?” says Arthur, already unlocking his phone. “Martin won’t believe it!”

“If you can possibly help yourself, Arthur, it would be much funnier if we wait until we can send photographic proof,” Douglas suggests. “And especially if we can make one of the otters look dangerously close to entering the flight deck.”

“They’ll be in cages,” Carolyn points out.

“That’s fine. We’ll pop a cage right outside the door and have Arthur knocking on the otter’s behalf.”

“On the otter’s WHAT?”

“For the otter. Knocking on the flight deck door because the otter can’t.”

“Oh, right.”

“I can’t believe this isn’t a practical joke,” says Carolyn, her suspicions having died back into mere puzzlement. She turns back to finish what she’d been writing. “Of all the planes in all the world, these otters have chosen the one whose crew have been preparing hypothetically for… how many years?”

“I dread to think.”

“Well, I’d better phone the sanctuary back and say they’re on for next Thursday.”

“Hooray!”

Carolyn steals a glance over at Herc, who still looks slightly bemused, but happy. If excitement is Arthur’s default, this is more or less his, these days. She busies herself with the phone again before he notices her looking, and doesn’t care that Douglas already has.

[jq37]

VINDICATIOOOOOON! We were all completely within our rights to hate KP. Although, at this point the RG's seem to be victims that need help, maybe. Depends on how much getting Rage-vivified leaves your mind free or if they're all enthralled. Their personalities clearly took a turn for the shit end of the scale if Ruben's anything to go by. They could be Thralls that think they have agency. As much as I don't like them (Lucy being the obvious exception) they were just kids that got set up to die by an adult they trusted. Which is pretty fucked. That segues nicely into our new mystery, What is Jayce's deal? How long has he been a Rage acolyte/thrall/insert better word here? Did Ankarna's name getting released help his evil machinations?

Onto more lighthearted topics:

-Damn it, the gamer in me is salivating at what perks maxing out the other tracks gets you.

-Better late than never on those materials Arthur. I wonder if Adaine speaking up earlier might've gotten her this solution right from the start.

-Fabian apologizing to Gertie (the best new character this season) has fully redeemed his character and I now fully approve of his ship with Mazey (the second best new character this season). It can now sail with my blessing. Also, dude really needs to talk to the Kids about how lonely he's been this year. We're getting near the end and he really he needs to communicate his problems better. All of them do TBH.

-I hope Bobby Dawn gets his teeth kicked in before the season wraps up.

Anyway, shorter than expected episode. Hopefully next weeks will be a little meatier. Till then, Honor the Cock at Basrar's.

-I also hope Brennan puts the full downtime mechanics online or something at some point because I wanna know what they didn't get to cause they were too busy concentrating on other stuff.

-I understand why Adaine handled things the way she did--very in character for her--but the whole time I was like girl! Talk to someone! use your resources! Anyway, she's done with school but hopefully there are still some useful goodies in there (and something nice for Fig too).

-And yeah, ditto about Fabian. If Toxic Masculinity is dead and you dance now, tell your friends that you're lonely! But that's not an actual complaint of course. He's handled it in a very in character was as always.

-Bobby Dawn can go to hell. All my homies hate Bobby Dawn.

-We ended on the Jace reveal so hopefully we'll get into that pretty quickly and start to figure out exactly how much culpability we should assign to each party here. Even if I find Kipperlilly insufferable (in a narratively satisfying way), it doesn't mean it's her fault if a trusted adult led her into making a pact with a rage god that cranked all of her already intense personality traits up to 11.

-As I'm sure you know by now, the next ep is gonna be more than 3 hours long so you're getting your wish! And I think the moment that "almost made Brennan quit" is gonna be in this episode so I'm mega pumped!

[ladyfurbton]

Jacques and the Ghost Part 3

Image Descriptions:

1: Kasumi is a 1999 baby furby with a large yellow tuft of hair on her head. Her fur is light pink except for a white square on her belly. Her tail is a big tuft of yellow hair on her lower back. Her feet are white and she has 3 toes on each foot. Her face plate and eyelids lids are both white and her beak is an orangish yellow colour. Her eyes are light blue. She has pink ears. Kasumi is wearing a pikachu onesie. The onsie has yellow ears with black tips at the end of them. There are large black eyes on the onesie. The onesie is mostly yellow and has a small black dot for a nose and a small smiling black mouth. There is a hole that reveals Kasumis face. On each side of the hole there are large red circles that resemble cheeks. At the back of the onesie there is a large yellow tail that is shaped like a lightning bolt. There are two brown stripes on the back of the onesie. Kasumi is also wearing a dark green lanyard with sunflowers on it. The lanyard has a white tag on it with a rainbow infinity symbol. Ami is a 2012 furby who is fully hot pink except for her beak with is an orangy yellow with a red tongue. Her eyes are open. Jacques is a 1998 furby with grey fur. His ears are grey with neutral coloured insides. He has a bone white coloured face plate and eyelids with a yellow coloured beak. He has a grey mane going down his back. His eyes are a light blue colour and his feet are yellow with three toes each. He is wearing a grey woolley hat with a pompom on top of it on his head. He is wearing a flannel shirt that is red and black with white buttons on thr front of it. There are two pins on his shirt. One silver tee pee pin and another Canadian flag pin. Ami, Kasumi and Jacques are standing together. Jacques says "I want to go back to my house and get some of my stuff but I'm too scared of the ghost." Kasumi says "I will get your stuff for you Mr Jacques." Ami says "Are you sure the ghost won't scare you Kasumi?"

2: Same as image 1 except the furbys are saying different things. Kasumi says "I'm not scared of some silly old ghost." Ami says "Okay Jacques and I will take you to his house after breakfast."

3: Kasumi is walking into Jacques house. Jacques is green with a beige coloured roof and a white door and windows.

4: Kasumi is standing near the ghost who is white with black eyes and a black smiling mouth. The ghost has pink cheeks. The ghost says "Hello. I am Gertrude but people call me Gertie." Kasumi says "Nice to meet you Gertie. My name is Kasumi. Do you like Pokemon?"

5: Same as image four except the characters are saying different things. Gertie says "What is this Pokemon you speak of?" Kasumi says "let me show you."

6: Same as image four except the characters are saying different things and Kasumi has a smart phone with her. Gertie says "Wow that little box has colourful moving pictures in it. How astonishing!" Kasumi says "This is my phone."

7: Same as image six except the characters are saying different things. Gerty says "Wow that's a telephone that fits in your pocket how marvellous!" Kasumi says "Wait! When did you die?"

8: Same as image six except the characters are saying different things. Gertie says "I died in the year 1919 at the age of 9." Kasumi says "No way!! I'm 9 too!! I like you!! Let's be friends!!"

9: Same as image six except the characters are saying different things. Gertie says "you're the first friend that I have had in 104 years." Kasumi says "You're the first friend that I have had since moving here."

10: Black text that says "to be continued..." is written on a rainbow background. End Descriptions.

[groundcontroltopossum]

“You!”

“Oh, hey!” I whipped my hand up in welcome as the waitress settled the fourth plate of pancakes in front of me. Strawberries and bananas glazed in pure maple syrup decorated the pillowy surface in an enticing display. “You found me!”

The man-thing grumbled as it stomped up to the table while I shoveled a spoonful of Tres Leche pancakes into my mouth from the first plate to arrive. It was almost comical how out of place it looked in the diner. Dressed in the garb of a runner complete with overly expensive headphones and sneakers but the skin it had slipped on looked to be a size too small. Stretching obscenely in places like an ill-fitting sweater, the obvious other wearing the epidermis of another human seemed to fly under everyone's rader except for me. Must be a result of the curse.

“Well, come on then, pop a squat” I encouraged with a point to the opposite bench “have some! These are Butter Pecan, a little grainy for my taste but probably right up your alley”

“Disgusting” he grimaced at the second plate of pancakes and reluctantly slid into the booth, keeping his hands firmly in his hoodie pockets “and just what do you think you are doing?”

“Breakfast” my cheeks bulged as I spoke around the forkful in my mouth. His face screwed up as he curled away from the bits of food that flew out at him. I giggled and offered little more than a smirk.

“I distinctly remember humans not requiring this much substance for the morning meal” 

“What? Are you worried I’ll get fat?” I teased as I gestured over my relative buffet before perking up as the waitress, a kindly older woman named Gertie with a terrible red dye job, walked up to the table carrying a fifth plate.

“Here’s your Triple Chocolate Bypass” She struggled for a moment to find an open space and eventually settled on a back corner.

“Yes, thank you” I crowed, immediately stabbing the top one and stuffing it into my mouth. A look of fear and revulsion was quickly shared between the two witnesses to my act before Gertie shrugged and pulled out her notebook and pen.

“Anything for you, hon?”

“No, he’s fine” I cut in before the horror show broke his cover “he’s watching his figure”

“Alright then, the rest will be out soon” She darted away, her attention quickly caught at another table. My companion attempted to stare me down, milky eyes picking at my skin. The attempt was valiant but short lived as my continued aggressive sampling of the various pancake offerings quickly succeeded in crossing it out. Did it eat, I wondered, remembering the warnings about never consuming food in the fae realm lest you be stuck there forever. However was the aforementioned offering actually there to feed the fairy folk or did it simply exist as temptation? For once in my life, it wasn't my appetite that had landed me in a mess, it was my habit of covering things up. 

Still, if this is the punishment for telling a fib, I can’t say I’ve learned my lesson. 

“Why are you…you’re supposed to…you aren't doing this right!” It seemed the fae could get frustrated and upset. I had always figured them to be ethereal beings unbothered by petty emotions like the rest of us. Maybe I was mixing them up with elves but to be honest my knowledge of the supernatural extended barely past some cult classic tv shows and book series involving long journeys and cursed jewelry. 

Whatever was true, it seemed stuttering and an inability to hold uncomfortable silence was in their repertoire.

“How dare you tell me how to enjoy my own curse” I teased, taking a drink from a tall glass of milk. 

“Enjoy? You aren't supposed to enjoy it! It’s a punishment!”

“Well, I’m having a great time” the look on his over stretched face broke a chuckle out of me. Who knew that messing with the faire folk would be so much fun? “I mean I can’t really see a downside to reliving the same day over and over again, this is really a blast”

“But you aren't doing anything!” his voice raised enough to draw a few looks before he let out a loud sigh and dropped his head into his hands. So the fae feels exasperation? And painted their nails if the glittery green polish was anything to go by. “Ok, look. I am going to do you a favor and assume that maybe the rules of the fae aren't as widely taught anymore or that you are just one of the stupider humans to cross that part of the woods…”

“Hey”

“...so let’s do a quick little run down. You humans get the town from parking lot to parking lot and we, the fae, get the forest from the end of the park to the clift. That is our home. We have allowed the little walking paths to the clift face and accept the little offerings left behind when it gets used; the crusts of bread, the half emptied juice boxes, the pacifiers…”

“Litter, you are picking up litter”

“...which may not be our usual requests for offerings but we are not arrogant to the changing of times. However, we also still like to requisition offerings in person. Is it wrong that we want to have a word with your kind every once in a while? See how things have changed and what news there is? All we ask is that you keep to the old rules. You have to be polite, tell the truth, and respect nature. On top of that, if you break any of the customs such as telling us your name or accepting a gift then we get to enact the rituals of the old ways. If people break the rules, then they bear the consequences whether that be through mild curses or being invited for a more personal stay…”

“Kidnapping”

“...Now when we met, you broke one of the rules and I was not overly unkind with the punishment. I could have been so much worse but I am generally considered a very forgiving member of this society. However, the curse of an eternally repetitive day was meant to teach you a lesson and then be broken through a thorough apology and a righting of the wrong. Not an excuse for you to sleep through several days, eating your body weight in sugar and flour products, and shopping sprees!”

There was a marked beat of silence at the end of his tirade, broken only by the quiet murmurs of the other patrons and the scrap of my fork against a plate. 

“But I’m having fun”

“FUCK You” he hissed, sending me into a fit of laughter. Somehow the thing managed to make the veins on it’s human skin suit bulge in fury and the eyes widened so much they actually seemed to fit the gaping holes that had previously resemble a cheap halloween mask but the anger of this immortal terror only caused me to choke out more laughter until I was holding my sides and gasping for air.

“Oh my god, stop, I’m going to throw up” I pushed the empty plate in front of me out of the way, still surrounded by four other stacks in various levels of consumption but the Tres Leches had been hands down the best so far. 

“You’d deserve it” He sneered, flicking a blueberry onto the floor in a childish tantrum “What is there even to enjoy about this? You are repeating the same day over and over again. You wake up, go to sleep, wake up, go to sleep but nothing is changing. It is overcast and fifty five degrees everyday! These people are coming here over and over again, eating the same swill and having the same mind numbing conversation. It doesn't matter what you do or who you talk to, it all gets erased when you fall asleep. How are you having so much fun that you are content to stay here? Nothing is changing!”

“Exactly” We were briefly interrupted by Gertie dropping by with a plate of Peaches and Cream pancakes. Peaches had never been my favorite but the dinner boasted about its range of flavors and when I told Gertie I wanted one of each, I wasn’t going to try to nitpick “nothing changes”.

“I don’t understand” he huffed and started to mindlessly tear apart the Butter Pecan cakes in front of him with his fingers.

“You live in the woods right? You get your news of the world from passersby. That's if you don’t curse them in some way or steal their skin to wear” I looked pointed at the jogger he was wearing.

“This was a particularly rude gentleman” He looked down at the sports logo on the hoodie “he will get it back eventually”.

“Well, let me share a piece of news with you. The world is shit” I leaned forward, making sure to hold the gaze of those milky eyes “Everything is going to hell and there is nothing we can do to stop it. The economy is in the shitter, the political atmosphere is equivalent to a torture chamber from SAW, and the possiblity of losing basic human rights is something that hovers in the background daily. Majority of us are two paychecks away from being homeless, it's pretty common knowledge that cures for all major diseases have been found but because treating the disease is so lucrative those cures have been hidden away from the public, and the systems that once benefited and protected people are being systematically removed. Everything is terrible and I am scared all the time. But not today. Nothing bad happens today ever. Since time is not moving forward, none of the things I am really scared of can happen. Nothing can get any worse than it was on the day I walked out to the cliffside and that wasn’t a bad day.”

“Oh” he seemed lost for words and his attack on the pecan pancakes continued as the weight of my words settled over for him.

“I am one person and pretty low on the totem pole of human society. I cannot prevent terrible things from happening. My family could get sick and die or the economy could go belly up and I could end up on the streets. Things could continue to get steadily worse and worse but that doesn’t happen today. So, no, I don’t want today to end because it is the only power I have. I can keep this day going for as long as I want and keep things from getting worse during that time. You are right. Nothing changes, everyone does the same thing they were doing today over and over and over again. But that also means that this is as bad as it gets and honestly, I need that break from the constant anxiety and fear when things are moving forward that I have no ability to stop. This may have been your version of a punishment but this has been an absolute gift to me”

The silence that followed felt weighted. My appetite was lost and I sat back, looking over at him. He had finally broken eye contact some time during the speech but it seemed more like he was trying to understand than any kind of shock or empathy. 

“I get to make this day a good day over and over again. I can sleep in as late as I want, I can eat whatever I want, spend all my money, talk to anyone I please about whatever I want. It doesn’t matter because tomorrow I get a redo. All the money is back on my card, anything embarrassing that I said or did is erased, and I get to do something else new or fun or lazy. Can you see how I might not want to let that go?” 

The Fae continued to avoid my eyes, rolling things around in his mind as he unconsciously pressed his fingertips into the mound of destroyed pancakes in front of him. Gertie walked over and I quietly asked her to take it all away and to bring me the check. It wasn’t until she lifted the plate away from him that he even looked up again. We both wordlessly stared each other down until the table had been cleared and we were once again alone in that public privacy that a restaurant provides. 

“Why were you in the woods that day?” He asked in a parody of the question that originally got me into this mess. That day when I got jumpscared by the strange looking man in the woods who asked what I was doing out there and I had quickly blurted out a lie that ended with me in an eternal ‘Groundhog’s Day’ scenario.

“Going for a walk” 

“You’re lying” he sounded sad. Disappointed.

“I’m not ready for this day to end”. 

And that’s how it went from there. Everyday, he would find me again, wearing the same jogger as before, always asking “Why were you in the woods that day?”. In order to end the cycle, all I would have to do was answer him honestly but everyday I answered the same. “Going for a walk”. I lost count how many times I replayed that day, how many different things I did or changed. I found out I couldn't leave the town early on. If I tried to drive out of the city limits it hard reset the day. One minute I would be driving towards the boundary, the next I would wake back up in bed. It didn’t prevent me from enjoying the redo. The people I talked to, the food I ate, the fun I had. 

But everything has to end sometime. 

One day I woke up and just knew. It was time. Dressing in the same clothes I wore the first day, I walked across town to the familiar path that led to the cliff side and began to hike. Halfway through, I heard footsteps behind me. This time I didn’t turn around. I let the Fae follow me up to the cliff overlook. It was always so beautiful up here, the air was crisp, the water rushed below. There was no place more peaceful than here. 

“Why were you in the woods that day?”

“I was going to kill myself” I replied without looking back “My plan was to hike up here and jump. I was tired, so tired. Anxious, exhausted, all of it. I just couldn’t find it in me anymore to try. I figured that a fall from this height would do it, they always warned us about that when we would come out for walks in school”

“You’re telling the truth” There was no emotion in his voice. Just acknowledgement.

“I am truly sorry for lying to you” I offered, smiling despite the tears I felt in my eyes. “In polite human society, we are taught not to say things like that to other people no matter how true it is.” 

“Why are you in the woods today?” A nervous chuckle broke through my lips. A sob on its heels. Another trap? An offering to extend the curse? It didn’t feel like he truly cared if I was here again with the same purpose but was just curious. Just following his script.

“Going for a walk” I finally turned back to look at him, wiping at my face with my sleeve “Just walking to the cliff, it’s so beautiful up here” He looked different. No longer was the ill fitting jogger skin stretched over something inhuman but just a man. The same man I had met in the woods the first time with the slight film on his eyes and skin that fit correctly. I giggled, slightly hysterical, realizing that it truly was the curse causing me to see him for what he was. Now that it was over, I could no longer see the disguise. 

“Would you like me to walk you back?” He offered and I thought I saw the edge of his mouth raise in a momentary smile before that neutral look returned.

“I’m grateful but I must decline” I walked towards him, heading back towards the trail “however if you would like to walk with me, we could talk. I have many stories of the world, some that I think you would enjoy”.

“I would love that” He turned to follow as I headed back to a world in motion. 

The Fae that trapped you in a Groundhog Day-style time loop is extremely frustrated that you’re taking advantage of the situation to just sleep all day, every day.

[acid-anarchy]

Hi there!

You have headcanons about Ghoul? If so, I'd love to hear them!

[@airwave-speaks]

Thanks for the ask! Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid are probably my favourite Killjoys so I have more than a few things to say about Ghoul. I don’t have the room to post them all right now so have these three.

Hope you enjoy! :D

When the Four adopted the Girl into their crew, no one really knew much about kids. The most Poison knew came from when Kobra was born, not that he remembered too much from when he was a small child. Jet had had some experience, when he was younger he used to help out at Gertie’s per his mother’s orders, though he still continues to help out there even after her death. However, he never really went that often. Ghoul, the group found, was surprisingly really good with children. At this point, he hadn’t really mentioned much about his city life to his crew mates. Preferring to not think or talk about it. The truth was, he’d learnt a lot about childcare while he was still a child himself. Back in the city he’d had siblings, all older than him except for one. Having to take care of his younger sister taught him a lot about kids and how to look after them. And sure, Poison had Kobra who was younger than them, but they had their parents plus extra help from parental droids because their family was on a more well off side of the city than Ghoul’s. For his family, they were all each other had. And Ghoul, well, he’d be going between taking care of his younger sister and patching up his older brothers. He’s naturally caring, has a kind demeanour (depending on who he’s talking to), and these things plus his past experiences just make kids trust him. It still didn’t stop the others wondering how the dots between explosives and mechanics, and also good with children connected.

What a lot of people don’t know about Fun Ghoul is that he’s actually a really good medic. Not many people would guess that about him considering his penchant for getting hurt all the time, but he has some amazing skills when it comes to healing. He learnt this back when he lived in the city through not really having a choice, in order to keep his siblings safe. It was a task he did not take on lightly and, unfortunately, he had to do it alone as he was the only member of his family that knew first aid. In the Fab Four, Ghoul and Jet are the go to medics. It’s normally Jet that handles medical problems but when he isn’t available for whatever reason, the job normally goes to Ghoul. If Jet is injured, he’s normally the one to take care of things. However, if they’re both injured then things usually tend to spiral out of control considering the Venom Siblings both have an intense fear of blood. Fun Ghoul is perhaps best described as a Jack of all trades, and he’s proud of that. I do have some more ideas for what to say about this so I’ll post something else for it more in depth another time when I’ve finished it.

Ghoul was actually the second of the Fab Four to make it out to the Zones, Jet being the first having been born there, and when he left his city home for the last time he never expected to last very long. Fun Ghoul couldn’t handle his city life anymore, and he thought that if escaping was the last thing he ever did it would be a fitting end to an otherwise miserable existence. He was prepared to die that night, but he thanks the witch every day that it didn’t happen. That he was able to meet his family and have a life of his own that he genuinely enjoyed. His life changed the day he left, it changed again when he met Jet Star and the radio crew, and again when they met the Venom Siblings. And now he has something to live for, something he hadn’t had in a long time. He finally feels alive.

[scarabky]

So.. my thoughts on The Grace Year below (obviously spoilers)

Here's the thing: I really liked this book. I just wish it was longer.

I really enjoyed the beginning of the book, the world building, the pace is incredible because it's slow and fast at the same time and it really draws the reader in. I liked Tierney and the rest of the girls and how the felt like girls, even Tierney, Gertrude, and Kiersten felt like teen girls which I love.

I do think there were too many girls. I could be missing some but I counted only 24 names out of 35, and some are named once only to never appear again. I understand that most girls are not meant to be individuals, rather this teen hysterical mob, and that there is a need to highlight how many women can't get married because there aren't enough husbands but I think something around twenty girls would've been enough. Especially considering that a big chunk of the book happens away from the girls. Tierney isn't making connections with them, we don't even know for sure who lived and who died. Again, for mob/groupthink purposes that's fine, and it doesn't matter who lives and who dies for this idea (except for Tierney, obviously, Kiersten, Gertie, and oddly enough Helen), HOWEVER when they come back to the county and the whole point is about this network of women and whatnot, I think it does matter who came back. Even in the campsite we know that each girl is important, each one is a story. They all cling to stories about girls like them and they all have names, and even when one person doesn't say, another will always supply the name of the girl they're talking about. So yeah, I think there were too many girls or too little time to know them a little bit more.

My Lord of the Flies is rusty, but Tierney is our Ralph and Kiersten is our Jack. That much is clear. Jenna and Jessica are probably the twins, though them being more like Roger would make sense too. In that case I think Martha and Nanette are the twins. I think Helen is Simon and Gertrude is Piggy, but it could be the other way around. That would mean that the dove is the pig. I know it's not a 1:1 retelling, but it's a very clear influence, from the epigraph. It's also a way to explain why Helen is so important.

Now the ending before I talk about the love storyline. I don't know if more pages would've solved the problem, but I felt like the last part and a half, from when Hans dies on, felt too fast for anything to settle. I'll be honest, I think there's too many twists too close together. Hans' storyline did surprised me, but everything else was relatively predicable, a matter of how, not if, sometimes not even when. The failed escape plot point was extremely formulaic and uncharacteristically lacking in ambiance. Maybe it was done like that so as to not give away the pregnancy card, but I didn't like it. It felt lackluster compared to the winter scenes in the treehouse. Everything happened too fast but not in a confusing middle-of-the-chase way. To use the Hunger Games comparison, I would've loved the failed escape to play out like the escape from the tunnels in Mockingjay: the narration is fast, the sense of urgency makes you want to read even faster, the details are there for when you go back but on first read they're blurry. Something akin to the climax of Shadow Kiss from the Vampire Academy series could have also worked.

As for the actual ending I have to say it was not what I was expecting. I like the ambiguity and the full-circle feeling but I wanted more interaction between the women at the county, more about the girls adjusting to life, about life adjusting to them. Because this was a weird grace year, they're not exactly like other girls who come back. Sure, the weight of normalcy and structure is very important and very realistic, but the women must know something's different. I just didn't feel like the story was finished at the birth. Again, maybe with a few more pages of life at the county before the birth we could've had a better sense of the sisterhood, how it works, who is in it, how much are they really affected by Tierney and the other girls' "rebellion".

On that same vein, I would've loved to see more about the next year's girls. I know the big moment is supposed so be Tierney's return and announcement and all of that but I think a better ending would've been seeing the first group of girls come back from the new campground. They're still just as scared, they believe in magic. Are they confused? Do they come back emboldened? Do they feel betrayed? When they don't feel the magic, what happens then? Do they come back healthy, strong, and close? Do they still die? What happens if there's no one to poach?

And that perfectly introduces the last thing I wanted to talk about: Ryker. I loved Ryker. Both as a character and as a love interest. I enjoyed the relationship and the build up, I liked the forbidden hurt/comfort love story and I loved how it allows us to get a better picture of society outside of the country.

I read a review that said that the poachers' "redemption" was showing that they're also victims of the patriarchy. I vehemently disagree. I think the storyline actually shows issues of class that intersect the problem of gender oppression. The poachers are part of the system to control and exploit the girls, but they're not the enforcers of it. They're victims not of the patriarchy but of capitalism and poverty that turns them into weapons to keep the patriarchal system in place. I think the relationship between Tierney and Ryker is meant to show that the girls and the poachers have more in common between them than they do with the men of the county. I think a key piece of this are the guards, who are explicitly branches of the county and the council (as opposed to covert branches like the poachers). With the guards there's the expectation that they live to keep the girls safe, but they don't care about them or their safety. We see this not only with how carelessly they let the girls die on the way to the campsite, but also with the revelation that the sense of safety from being an object of desire around the guards is a complete illusion.

I needed more time to warm up to Michael. Sure, it makes sense that he remains one of Tierney's very many blindspots until the very end, and I get the feeling that we're supposed to come out of the book thinking that he's a decent man, but still a man, and a powerful man at that. But none of those options gets enough development.

Anyway I liked the book and the story. I would love more of it to feel in the gaps, but I understand why we didn't get more. I think this is a solid 4/5 for me.

[magnoliabloomfield]

Garden of Heathen 44- Trauma Central

The one where Gally wants to yeet a b*tch and drinks his respect women juice

Love? LOVE? Did he just shucking say Love? Aussie felt like stabbing him with a fork just to change the subject. She didn't want to hear those words from him, she didn't want to be near him, she didn't even want to share the Garden with him.

The fact that everything he did that was nice and sweet turned her stomach instead of making her feel closer to him was a bad sign. He could be straight up lying to her. Now, if Gally had told her he knew her from before the maze, she'd believe him. And even if he told her he'd been madly in love with her before hand, she didn't think she'd freak out the way she was now. Heck, if she'd been in love with him before the maze then a lot of things would start making some shucking sense!

"Aris," she finally spoke up carefully, avoiding his gaze. "I am sorry, this must be hard for you too, but I don't remember you. I have none of these memories you talk about, and I don't have any of the feelings either. So can we just not talk about it?"

"But if I don't talk about it how will you ever remember?" He asked, his dark eyes becoming glassy. "I can't just let go of a second chance with you."

Gally bent his fork. And if he knew that Aris touched her knee under the table he would have found a new home for that fork.

Aussie sprang up and away from his touch, knocking her chair over. She just stood there for a second, everyone looking up at her except for Gally who'd stood up half a second after, ready to chuck this guy in the maze as soon as she gave the word. She didn't bother to say anything, she just turned and walked away as fast as she could toward the house.

"Aussie!" Aris called after her as he stood up as well, frozen by her outburst at first.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and pushed him back down into his seat. Gally leaned down so only Aris could hear him, squeezing his shoulder painfully.

"If you go near her, I'll break every rule in this place as far as you're concerned," he whispered threateningly in his ear, pulling back to give him a hard stare to make sure he understood before going after Aussie.

Gertie was halfway to the house, also following after her, so Aris was left with Joan, Georgia and Rachel.

"I am sorry for you, dude," Georgia said around a mouthful. "But you need to rethink your technique."

"What do you mean?" Aris asked.

"Well, think about it. If you were in her shoes how would you react to someone you don't remember, therefore you don't know, coming and trying to tell you who you are?" Georgia clarified for him.

"Also, you need to be careful of Gally," Joan added quickly since Georgia forgot the most important point. "They've grown quite close and he is fiercely protective of her."

"Yeah, I noticed," Aris mumbled unhappily as he rubbed his neck. "So, what do you think I should do?"

Georgia and Joan shared a glance. They really didn't want to advise this guy on how to get between Aussie and Gally.

"Aussie told you what she wanted," Joan reminded him. "Listen to her."

Aussie hugged a pillow as she curled up on the bed, sitting up still in case that psycho followed her in there, she didn't want to be vulnerable. The anxiety was making her stomach roil and she wanted to stay close to the bathroom just in case. Gertie came in just behind her, crashing next to her on the bed.

"Aussie are you alright?" She asked as she touched her arm.

"No, I'm not alright," Aussie almost groaned. "I just want him to stay away from me!"

"Given the fact that Gally isn't here yet, I don't think you're going to have to worry about that now," Gertie pointed out.

"Oh, bless him!" Aussie sighed.

They heard the door open and close and unmistakably heavy footfalls.

"Back here!" Gertie called with a small smile.

Gally came through the door looking concerned and ready to murder, which only made Gertie smile wider.

Gally was surprised to find Aussie in the room where she discovered her second dead body in three short years. Given how she was so freaked out by the basement for so long he didn't think he'd find her in this room either. That seemed like a sign something was really wrong. He slowed down and tried to move softly, not wanting to set her off anymore. She seemed jumpy.

"Hey," he said as he came over, sitting at the foot of the bed to give her some space.

He didn't dare ask if she was alright, she wasn't, or what was going on, he knew, but he had to check on her.

"Did you put the fear of God in him?" Gertie asked. "Or better yet, the fear of Gally?"

"If he has a functioning brain cell, yes," he said, earning a small smile from Aussie.

"Thanks Gally, I appreciate it," she said, uncurling a little bit.

"Yeah?" He asked, fishing for clues as to what he should do.

"Yeah," Aussie nodded. "I don't want him near me for a while."

"I can manage that," Gally nodded.

"Hey, while you guys are here and the newbies aren't, should we talk about the big problem?" Gertie asked, looking between them.

The big problem was that, when the box came up with Aris, it didn't go back down. Usually it retracted by now, but it stayed hours after Aris came out of it.

"Maybe the whole "last one ever" was more about the box than the boy," Gertie pointed out.

"That's probably why the note Gally came with said we'd have to get out once the white rabbit showed up," Aussie concluded. "If we have no more supplies coming we will definitely have problems sustaining ourselves here."

"Any clue how we're going to do that yet?" Gertie asked with forced hope.

"Not yet," Aussie sighed after she shared a look with Gally. "We'll have to work with Rachel a little more I think. She's gotta have some kind of important or else she wouldn't have had the rabbit clue."

Aussie shrugged and Gally thought it was cute how she did it, blowing a lock of hair out of her face from her sloppy bun.

"Alright," Gertie nodded. "Well, we're burning daylight on that then. What if I distract the new guy, tell him he's dehydrated or something and keep him laid up in the house while you guys, Joan and Gertie take Rachel to the map room?"

"That's not a bad idea," Aussie pulled a face as she nodded. "But! I don't want you alone with him either, get some one to help you- get two other girls to help you."

Gertie snickered. "Shouldn't be hard, the chuckleheads all seem to think he's gorgeous, they'll jump at the opportunity to hang around him."

Gally's brows furrowed in a slightly sad way at that. Oh, what was he thinking, after his experience with Hedy this guy could have all their attention. Still, it stung a little though.

"Ok, maybe Gally and I can sneak around him so he doesn't know what we're up to," Aussie suggested.

"You're just trying to avoid him," Gertie deduced correctly.

"So what if I am?" Aussie shot back.

"Aussie, you're practically the Queen here, don't let the first jerky guy you meet control you like that," Gertie gently grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake.

"Hey, I think you just complimented me," Gally observed.

"Well, of course you're not a jerk. You're an idiot," Gertie clarified for him, making his expression go flat.

Aussie rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile as she got up from the bed.

"He's neither," she told Gertie sternly as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to ruin a girls life."

Gally was just thankful that he still had touch privileges.

"I'll come and collect the bozo as well," Gertie sighed, and they all left the house.

Gally felt a sense of relief finally as he watched Gertie and two other eager girls lead Aris back to the house, his furtive glances over his shoulder directed at Aussie being completely ignored by her. Aussie couldn't stand him and Gertie couldn't stand him either, as long as those two were on his side shuck the rest. He stood with his arms crossed, his body blocking Aussie from his sight as she talked to the other girls. He was not ignoring Aris and the attention was not favorable.

Even with Aris holed up in the house, Gally still walked close to Aussie, shoulders squared, being the best bodyguard he could be. Even when they got to the map room he gently put his hand on Aussie's waist to lead her to the other side of the table, that way he could sit next to her and also watch the door. He may even have moved his chair closer to hers, who's to say.

"I want to be a runner," Rachel informed them as soon as her cheeks hit the seat.

Aussie paused in the middle of pulling her chair in closer to the table, brows raised high as she stared at the new girl across the tarp covered table.

"Ok... and why is that?" She asked her, finally settling in to her seat.

"I know this is gonna sound strange, but I really feel like I'm supposed to be one," Rachel explained, her hand going to her chest to emphasize the depth of that feeling.

"You understand that there's things in there that attack people, right? We went over that, do you remember?" Georgia questioned her as if she possibly caught a second case of amnesia.

"I know, I know," Rachel assured her, the expression on her face plainly saying she couldn't believe it either. "But that obviously means we can't stay here, right?"

"And you believe you can solve what we haven't been able to in three years?" Joan spoke up from her other side.

"I think my time is best spent at least trying-"

"Do you believe you can solve it?" Joan repeated, her tone and volume slightly antagonizing.

"Yes," Rachel blurted, her hands lightly coming down on the tables edge as she admitted it. "Yes, I do."

Joan looked looked to Aussie after that. Aussie was not the calculating type, she could read emotions on someone's face but she could not fathom what Joan was trying to telepathically convey to her in that look. Forget wavelengths, they had different oceans.

So Aussie did what she'd never recommend anyone do. She winged it.

"Listen," Aussie said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, fingers clasped in front of her. "I know how traumatic it is to come up in that box, not remembering anything, so my inclination- naturally, is to be as kind and gentle as I can with everyone who comes here. The last thing I want to do is further traumatize anyone unnecessarily."

Rachel sat there listening intently but also looking confused.

"So my question for you is basically..." Aussie trailed off with a sigh as her gaze floated and shifted, searching for the right words. "If I assure you it's necessary, how much can you take? I mean, in terms of outlandish and crazy information that may or may not make any sense to you, and could in fact put a heck of a lot of pressure on you. Can you handle more trauma?"

Rachel looked at each face that was now staring at her, waiting for the answer. Finally her eyes landed on Aussie again. This girl looked like the maze had chewed her up but she would not let it swallow her. She was a tender, loving force that would not be destroyed, and she would get as many people out of here as she could. Whatever she had to say, Rachel could take.

"Yes, I can take it."

Masterlist

@a-ravenclaw-into-tardis-221b @sweetseunghyun-poulter @mrbillymontgomery @crazysheeplyca @frequentlychangingfandoms @massivechaos @rllych

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hello, there. I hope you're feeling better. I saw your post about wanting soft Eskel blurbs and I would love to read goat dad tending to a field of goats. Like tooth rotting, diabetes inducing fluff. The fluffiest of fluff.

A/N: I hope you like this babe!!

***

One of the goats bleated loudly, catching Eskel’s attention. He looked up from the fence he was working on to see Gus, one of the kids you’d taken in over the summer, standing a little ways away from the herd that lingered near the witcher. 

Usually Gus didn’t stray far from Gertie, a brown calf, and Gus’s best friend. Gertie served as Gus’s eyes since the baby goat was born blind. 

“Gus? What are you doing?”

Gus bleated loudly, panicked that he didn’t know where his friends were. 

Lil Bleater made herself known, trotting to Eskel’s side and butting her head against his knees. 

“That’s rude.” Eskel patted her head, then went to Gus. 

The kid bleated again just as the witcher was scooping him up. 

Eskel placed Gus down by Gertie, then returned to the fence post he was fixing. Before he went back to work, he looked around to do a quick headcount of all the animals. There were three baby goats, Gus, Bastion, and Junior; one adult goat, Lil Bleater; two stallions, Ghost and Scorpion; Willow, a donkey; and Gertie, a calf. 

He smiled a little, content that no one had wandered off. 

Willow suddenly brayed, her ears pressing flat against her head. She was warning Eskel- and anyone else within hearing range -that someone was approaching the house. 

Eskel could hear it too, the sound of hooves on dirt. He almost panicked. There was more than one horse, more than one rider. No one ever came down the dirt road that led to your home. It was a deadend. There was no reason for strangers to stray that way. But then the witcher heard a familiar voice. It was his brother, Lambert, and Geralt was with him. 

Eskel began to move down the hill towards the house. The fence prevented Willow from charging the two intruders. She brayed as loud as she could until Eskel patted her flank. 

“Easy, girl.”

Her ears remained down against her head but she no longer brayed. 

Eskel watched as the two witchers came to a stop just a few feet away in front of the fence. 

“Look at you.” Lambert grinned. “The first ever retired witcher became a farmer.”

“I’m not retired.”

“Not yet.” Geralt got down from Roach first. 

Eskel easily scaled the fence and jumped down on the other side. It was easier than going to the gate and trying to squeeze out without letting one of the kids out. 

“Good to see you, brother.” The White Wolf tightly hugged Eskel, clapping him on the back.

“How did you find me?” Eskel asked as he pulled away from Geralt and moved on to Lambert. 

“Someone saw us in town. Asked if we were looking for another witcher.” Lambert explained. “Thought we’d swing by and give you some hell for retiring.”

Eskel smiled a little, happy to see that his little brother hadn’t changed in the years since they last saw each other. 

“Is that Lil Bleater?” Lambert asked, pointing at the old goat and moving towards the fence. He leaned over it, reaching down to pet Lil Bleater’s head. 

“Sure is.”

“Damn.” 

As Lambert was petting Lil Bleater, one of the kids, Junior, bleated and tried to headbutt Lambert’s hand. When that didn’t get the witcher’s attention, Junior resorted to biting at Lambert’s fingers. 

“Ouch! You little shit!”

“Lambert, meet Lambert Junior.” Eskel grinned, leaning against the fence. “We call him Junior.”

“Little bastard.” Lambert muttered, scowling at the kid as he bleated again. 

“We?” Geralt repeated, crooking one brow. 

Eskel brought his eyes to the witcher, nodding just a little. A faint smile came to his lips. 

“I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Both of you. Follow me.”

***

The three witchers walked across the large green yard that separated the field from the quaint little stone cottage that rested in the edge of the woods. 

“Take your boots off before you walk too far in.” Eskel told them as he pushed the door open. 

“Take our boots off?” Lambert repeated, scrunching his nose up. “I don’t take my boots off for anyone.”

“Take your boots off, or you’ll be the one cleaning the floor.” There was a teasing tone to Eskel’s threat. 

Lambert muttered a few curse words under his breath but did as told. 

“How’d you come across this place?” Geralt asked, looking around the small room curiously.

“There was a cockatrice problem. Three of them took to the town. Managed to take them down, but got a few new scars from them.” Eskel pulled his shirt up to reveal his side. Cutting across his side from his hip to his ribs was a thick, jagged scar. It was much paler than his sun kissed skin. He started to lead the way down a narrow hallway. “Heard the healer in town was exceptional.”

“Eskel? Who is it you’re talking….” You trailed off as Eskel came around the corner with the two men behind him. You stopped in your tracks, lips parting as you took in the sight of the two intimidating men. The dark haired one was lean, but still tall and muscular. The white haired one seemed to be built very similar to Eskel. Broad shoulders, thick muscles. 

“Y/N, these are my brothers.” Eskel gestured to each witcher as he introduced them. “Geralt and Lambert.”

A fond smile came to your lips. You put the rag in your hands down and moved towards them. 

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you gentlemen!” You didn’t shy away from hugging both men. 

Lambert’s eyes widened and he looked to Eskel for help as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Y/N saved my life two years ago.” Eskel leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Had to stay here for a couple weeks to get better. By then, I didn’t want to leave.”

“You make it sound like I kidnapped you.” You pulled away from Geralt and then moved towards your witcher. You put your hand on his arm, smiling happily. 

“What are you making?” Eskel looked over to the pot hanging over the fire. It smelled like something was burning. 

You cursed and moved over to the pot, stirring the soup. 

“Will you boys be staying for dinner?” You looked back at the two witchers. 

Geralt and Lambert shared a little look, then looked to Eskel. Lambert crossed his arms, shifting in his spot. Eskel nodded once to Geralt’s silent question, telling him you were trustworthy. 

“We’d love to stay.” Geralt answered, bumping his shoulder against Lambert’s. “Wouldn’t we, Lambert?” 

“I’m always down for free food.” 

***

After dinner, the sun had gone down and you insisted Geralt and Lambert stay for the night. 

Eskel took his brothers outside to round up the animals and put their horses in the barn with yours and Eskel’s.

You worked on cleaning the kitchen, humming softly and moving around.

“Doll, I told you I’d help you clean when I came back.” Eskel spoke as he walked into the kitchen.

“I can get it.” You assured him. “Where are they?”

“Still outside. They’re discussing plans for tomorrow.” Eskel moved around behind you. You turned your head to watch himm, a smile coming to your lips. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you back into his body. “Junior has taken quite a liking to Lambert.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Keeps trying to eat his boots.”

You laughed, leaning back into Eskel. 

He nuzzled his nose into your neck, eyes closing as he let out a soft breath. 

“Thank you.” He murmured against your skin, tickling you just a little. 

“For what?”

“For being so…. welcoming to them.”

You turned around in his arms, hands brushing up along his forearms. 

“They’re your brothers, Eskel. I’d treat them no different than how you treat my sister.”

“But it’s…. It’s different with us.” He spoke quietly, eyes flickering down.

You brought your hand to his jaw, fingertips brushing along the side of his face. You pushed a few stray pieces of hair behind his ear.

“I know it is.” You gently said. “And I’m so sorry it is.”

He pulled your hand from his face and pressed a kiss to your palm. 

“I love you.”

“I know.” You smiled. “I love you.”

He leaned in to kiss you but just before your lips could touch, he was pulling away and cursing under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, brows drawing together as you watched him move towards the front door. 

“Willow is chasing Lambert.”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox@wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration@shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa@disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys@wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343@permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife@reaganjenelle@theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher@badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an–actual–human–disaster@rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles@awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @she-wolfoftheinquisition @titaniafire

[nicoscowboyhat]

PJO/HoO/ToA characters as things me and/or my friends have said

a lot of these are discord messages bc we haven't seen each other in person in a while :( some of the ones at the end are from a notebook i had though where i would write down the funny shit we would say. came in handy lmao

-

Clarisse: i would've been a heavyweight for a cheerleader and thrown some hoes

-

Arrow of Dodona: Thou side bitches art foul for i despise thy hairstyle

-

Octavian: i love how i'm just automatically the misogynist

-

Percy: hey guys i can make my dick invisible

Jason: NO FUCKING WAY

-

Nico: ill fucking kill you. squash you like bug

-

Leo: piper wants a smoothie. a smoothie i shall make

-

Lester: hey besties pro tip: don't make brownies in the microwave

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Annabeth: ayo ive got like. reverse appendicitis rn tell me some comforting shit 🔫🔫

Percy: you're sec c, don't die

Annabeth: ty

-

Percy: aw shitttt almond butter and jelly on da everything bagel

-

Leo: Vigarous gay sex

Jason: Vigorous is spelled with an O.

Piper: sexo gay vigoroso

-

Meg: don't worry

Lester: i will worry if i so please

-

Will: but i don't think you can kill monkeys

Nico: you can but they put up a pretty good fight

Will:

Nico: oh you mean like legally

-

Ethan: my power went out while i was sleeping

Luke: lmao loser

-

[the gang is arguing about some guy eating white chicken. like literally snow white. not boiled, WHITE]

Clarisse: well the whole point is that it's not raw and the man took a bite and it wasn't

Silena: he died later that week clarisse

-

Percy: foo fighters in algebra what will happen next

-

Octavian: dick an d balls

Reyna: No politics in chat plz!

-

Luke: submerges into the spin cycle

-

Luke: god

Ethan: is always watching

Luke: hope he didn't see me push that elderly woman down the stairs

Ethan: definitely did

Luke: shit

-

Grover: fuck school i just wanna play animal crossing 😡😡 enough of this "physical education" shit i am planting tulips 😡😡😡

-

Connor: i'm going to throw up into someone's mouth like a bird

Travis: as you should king

-

Harley: [holding out a decapitated rubber chicken filled with grape juice] would you like a drink from the chicken chalice?

-

[everyone's name was changed in a discord server]

Nico: why is my name spaghetti i just realized this

Hazel: we're all sketti here

Nico: ah

Nico: i thought it was so you knew who to kill when the italian genocide came around

-

Leo: penis

Piper: sometimes

-

Jason: i have chronic cool guy syndrome

Frank: is it contagious? i'm feeling a cough

-

Reyna: just heard octavian speak day ruined

-

Will: CISHET MAN ALERT 🤢🤢

-

Percy: bro what if we went to japan

Grover: AHAH I WAS EATING CHEESEBALLS WHATS THE CONTEXT??

-

Jason: how's octavian been doing? has he gotten worse?

Reyna: he's pretty much the same. considering driving a semi truck into his house.

-

Percy: yo did u do work?

Annabeth: no but thank u for asking

-

Luke: pillage an empire to assert dominance

-

Nico: Noose?

Will: Nooses are not very hot nico

-

Will: thor got that gay little bridge

-

Annabeth: i'm gonna put my alphabet soup in numerical order

-

Leo: pog to your mother

-

Will: [sends a drawing he made of jar jar binks with kylo ren's outfit + lightsaber that says "meesa finish what youssa started"]

Everyone:

Will: react

Will: react to jar jar

-

Luke: you ever just,,, eat someone on accident

-

Jason: yo gamma your fam still vibin?

Jason, 2 seconds later: that felt gay to type

-

Thalia: crimbo this year is gonna be litty titties

-

Thalia, 12 am on christmas day: merry shitscream my dudes

-

Nico, 10 years old: i have question

Nico: please

Nico: bro

Nico: q,ueshtun

Nico: kweshtin

Nico: i've just one

Nico: query

Nico: pleabse

-

Clarisse: you sound like gay cat in the hat

-

Kayla: BIG BOYS BIG STEPS

-

Meg: words are for CHUMPS

-

Luke: i'm laughing because i ran over a cat yesterday and i can't stop thinking about it

-

Nico: yo titties are gross

-

Frank: please don't spoil cinderella

Leo: she loses her slipper

Frank: does she ever get it back???!?

-

Piper: [surfer voice] fudgecakes, dude

-

Will: i watched star wars in the bathroom... probably tmi but i don't care

-

Coach Hedge: you're trash. i will run you over

-

Lester: please stop singing miss mary mack!

Meg: i hope you get dragged my miss mary mack.

-

Percy: [singing] i wanna be the mayonnaise to your bologna, wanna be the cheese to your macaroni

-

Octavian: i'm above everyone! except, um... triangles. they scare me

-

Luke: my mom asked me what i wanted for dinner and i said "chinese food" and she said "how about olive garden" i said "MAY i SAID CHINESE FOOD"

-

Nico: my mom died [default dance]

-

Connor: the thing is, i didn't ask.

Travis: damn bro that really hurt my feelings

Connor: i'm sorry bro i didn't mean to hurt your feelings

Travis: it's ok i lied

Connor: that's ok i did too

-

Reyna: [clone high JFK voice] bitches be like "i'm the shit" nah you ain't even the fart

-

Lavinia: me having a stroke after inhaling caffeine like it's a tuesday

-

Leo: damn girl, you shit with that ass?

-

Austin: i'm about to eat a rock. hungry like gertie

-

Nico: who is sports? i've never heard of them

Lester: i think it's a band

[icaruspendragon]

for those following along at home, his funeral is tomorrow and while i do still have to write the eulogy (lmao), i did write a pretty kickass obituary why lie. pls enjoy:

If Joe wasn’t working out of town for TVA as a contractor, you could find him out on Wilson or Pickwick Lake in his Bumble Bee bass boat fishing for small mouths. The only exception being Saturdays during football season where you could find him manning the grill before sitting down just in time to cheer (and oftentimes curse) for the Crimson Tide.

If I was forced to sum up my father in a single word, the only option would be “silly.” His laugh after telling a truly horrible joke served as part of the soundtrack of mine and my brother Christian’s childhood. Memories of Joe putting lotion on his welding-worn and weather-beaten sandpaper hands while saying “It puts the lotion on the skin or else it gets the hose again,” still plays in my head anytime I do the same. I still can’t watch Lord of the Rings after Joe’s not-fun-for-me habit of crouching at the end of my bed doing his best Gollum impression because he knew that particular character freaked me out.

He seldom called any of the people in his life by the government name carefully picked out by a parent, rather, he would think up a truly horrendous nickname and use that exclusively. I, his daughter Berklie, endured a childhood of only being called Gertie. Which was a somehow better shortened version of my true nickname, Fatty MaGurt Berklie. His son Christian got the marginally better Boo. His wife Tia became Tinky. His stepdaughter Tayler became Tayler Hamm I Am, naturally. Growing up I was completely unaware his dear friend Andy Poss’ name wasn’t actually Possum.

He smiled often and freely. Unless you dared to point a camera his way, a grave error that would cause him to stare into the lens stone-faced and wholly unimpressed.

My father, like each and every one of us, was not without his flaws. If love were a game of show and tell, it was easier for him to show instead of tell. I have only a handful of memories in which he said the words I love you outloud, but his love for me was never in question. It was felt in every book purchased to keep me occupied during his fishing trips I insisted I had to tag along for, even though fishing was boring and I had a biblical fear of fish. It was felt in those trips he let me join him on despite him knowing I would grow bored once my book was done and I turned to pestering him for entertainment instead. It was felt in each dinner he cooked. In each gift given. Each time he indulged me and my brother’s antics. He may not have been able to share his love in words, but he always shared it in action. And I know many of us feel the same.

Those who had the honor of knowing and loving him, of being known and loved by him, will carry the weight of his loss and our grief until we ourselves pass. But what is love if not devotion? And what is grief if not never-ending love? Though he is gone, his memory and his love will never be lost. It can’t be lost because we will never finish loving him. And you cannot kill what can never die.

so my brother died on my birthday two years ago. and for this past birthday (which was six weeks ago) my dad paid for me to go to new york city to visit some friends. i flew in yesterday and had been in the city all of 14 hours before my dad’s wife called me and said “hey, he had a massive heart attack and died a few hours ago.”

and as i was waiting at jfk for my flight back home to alabama, i received an email letting me know one of my etsy items had shipped. see, i’d bought some new bumper stickers for my subaru a few days ago.

this is the one that shipped today, apparently.

[unknowncountrygirl]

The New Chaser Pt.2

“Win or lose, you get better with every match, Iris.” Skye praised the blonde.

“Well, I've been told I've got a rather smashing coach.” Iris joked, with a bright smile. Before either young lady was able to say anything else, Madam Hootch approached.

“Miss Parkin, I need to speak to you immediately.” She said, leaving no room for back talk. Skye was pulled aside, and Iris waited patiently for her to return as she and Madam Hootch were only out of ear shot. Iris watched as Skye's body demeanor changed, and her shoulders slumped.

“Skye?” Iris called out as Madam Hootch left, “what is it?”

“My Dad. He got injured playing in a match against the Montrose Magpies.” Skye told her.

“Oh no! Skye, I'm so sorry.”

“I'm used to it. Happens to often these days, twilight of his career and all... I have to leave Hogwarts for a little while, and be with my family.”

“Of course! If I can do anything for you, please tell me.” Iris told her honestly. She had hoped that Skye saw her as a friend now as she saw her as one.

“You can. Keep up with your training. My mates will help you. I bet you'll have a tryout invitation by the time I'm back.” Skye told her with a sly smile.

“I meant, what can I do for you? This is no time to be thinking about Quidditch, Skye!” Iris explained to her.  

“Iris, I'm always thinking about Quidditch. I have to go, Madam Hootch will be waiting for me.”

“I understand. I hope everything goes well and that your dad makes a speedy recovery.” The blonde told her before she offered the blue haired girl a hug.

“Thanks Iris.”

Iris felt like Skye didn't give many hugs as she gave her an odd pat on the back before leaving to pack and leave for a time.

She let out a sigh and ran her hand over her hair, pulling the braid over her shoulder and freeing her curls, fluffing them and running her fingers through to comb them a bit and break them up.

Murphy took this time of solitude to approach her. He had practiced this a few times in his head and had the pile of books in his lap, ready to explain all he needed to.

He cleared his throat, alerting her to his presence as she flipped all her hair over her shoulder.

When she turned around to face him, it was as if the motion of the earth slowed down. Her profile was perfection against the sky, and then she looked him face on, the sun behind her created an ethereal glow about her.

“Oh, I recognize you! The Quidditch commentator.”

Annnnd he was screwed. Slap his ass and call him a harpy. This girl had to be part Veela, somewhere along her bloodline because normal girls did not look like her.

Oh God. Oh God, abort mission abort mission! He was never one to be at a miss for words, but he felt his mouth run dry and forgot everything he had practiced saying to her, and went with-

“Strategy!” And literally just dumped the books at her feet. She looked down at the books now laying at her feet and back up at him.

Her eyes were so blue, almost unearthly blue.

“Um. Ok?”

“You're going about getting a Quidditch tryout all wrong.”

He watched her eyebrows knit together and the slight frown that appeared over her lips.

Nope nope nope. Go now. Before you say something even more stupid. He rolled away from her as fast as he could get his chair to go.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later he was in the commentators box, a friendly on the books, and knew that Iris would be arriving for the friendly soon. He was hoping she may seek him out, he had been able to calm his nerves and knew he could handle a conversation. She was just a female, he talked to girls before, no big deal. That and he figured he could just imagine a naked troll, that would squash anyone's physical attraction to anything.

He spotted her silvery white hair below on a broom and watched as she flew closer and closer to him. He decided to get the first word in this time.

“There you are!”

“You were expecting me?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I was 92.7% sure of it. I tend to make a string first impression.” He gave her a playful grin.

“Yeah... About that... Do you often introduce yourself by dumping a bunch of Quidditch playbooks and then just leaving?”

“That's not what happened.” Shut up McNully. His brain said, but his mouth kept going.

“Yes it was. I was there.”

“What happened was, first I dumped my playbooks... And then you said I recognize you. Then I said strategy, then I dumped the books, then I said you're going about getting a Quidditch tryout all wrong... And then that's when I left.” He effed up. He knew he did by the way her face was squished up and looking at him. Why couldn't he just kept his mouth shut? No, noooo he just had to keep going like a nervous child.

“Isn't that what I just said?” She asked. He should have just agreed, said yes and moved on but his insides felt like they wanted to be his outsides and to keep that from happening he kept talking.

“No, what you just said was, do you introduce yourself by dumping Quidditch playbooks and just leaving... Then I said, that's not what happened, and then you said yes it was, I was there... And then I said-”

“All right, all right!” She said, holding up a hand to get him to stop.

“This is what you get when you chat with a Quidditch Commentator.” He wasn't sure how she was going to react but she surprised him.

“Well,” she smiled. “I suppose it's charming once you get used to it.” He nearly fell out of his chair.

“That's exactly what my mum says!” Why the actual fuck did you just say that! He yelled at himself, wanting nothing more then to bash his skull against the heaviest playbook he had brought. “Murphy McNully, by the way.” He offered her his hand. “The wizarding worlds next best-ever professional Quidditch commentator. That's the plan, at least. Judging by the competition I'd put my odds of going pro at 3-1.” She took his hand and it was just as soft as he imagined it would be.

“Now that's more of a proper introduction, Murphy.”

“My friends call me McNully.”

“Are we friends now? I haven't even introduced myself-”

“You're Iris Rosewood. I know who you are. Curse breaker, rule breaker, and aspiring Quidditch disruptor. Untested, untried and untrained.” She gave him a look and he needed to add something so she didn't think he was completely mental. “Teeming with untapped talent! Speedier then a snallygaster.” Stop talking. “Faster then the swiftest snidget.” Really, stop talking now. “Greener than the greenest bowtruckle. Strategy savvy of a troll-” Why, what are you doing. Stop talking.

“Wait, greener than a Bowtruckle? Strategy savvy of a Troll?” Her voice was strained and her eyebrows couldn't go higher.

“I didn't dump a bunch of playbooks on you because I think you're a seasoned Quidditch strategist.” He laughed and that was wrong.

“Now you're laughing at me.” Her tone was now getting more and more irritated.

“Not at you. I've watched you practice. You're a natural, or I wouldn't have dumped anything on you.”

“Thank you?”

“You're welcome, but you're all might and fight in flight... No insight.” He told her. She shook her head, and ran a hand over her face.

“I don't understand. I've been training non-stop.”

“At the 'school of Skye', where you score full marks for launching a dizzy gnome over a stadium wall? No one is saying Skye hasn't helped you develop phenomenal physical skills in record time but you've still got a lot of tactical Quidditch knowledge to learn if you want to impress Orion Amari and-”

“Who's Orion Amari?” She interrupted him to ask.

“Orion Amari is Gryffindor's team captain! He decides who gets invited to try out for the open chaser position!” Had Skye not freaking informed her of this? How the hell was this girl going to try out if she didn't even know the name of the team captain! “Did Skye not tell you how all of this works?”

“Well, everything except for the Captain's name, she didn't seem to want to talk about him.”

Typical. Murphy thought. “That's likely because Skye and Orion mix like asphodel and infusion of wormwood.” She snickered, “which is to say, best to keep them separated unless you really know what you're doing. This is why you need my help.”

“Because you can get Skye and Orion to mix well?” She asked him.

“No! Because Quidditch is more than skills and drills! It's statistics and logistics! It's analysis and algorithms! It's strategy and mastery and history.” Her gaze was pulled away by the rest of the Gryffindor team arriving.

“Look, Skye's mates are arriving. I should go, we've got a friendly about to start-”

“It's learning from the legacies of the Daisy Pennifolds and the Barberus Bragges and-” What. Are. You. Doing. Stop. TALKING! His brain screamed at him. Her eyes went wide, looking very uncomfortable.

“It's my first practice without Skye here, I really must go-”

“And the Gertie Keddles and the Goodwin Kneens and the--” STOP.

“Murphy!” She finally shouted, and that seemed to get his mouth to stop running. “I can't keep everyone waiting! I have to go!” She turned her broom and began to fly away towards the pitch.

“There's a 94.4% chance you'll be back!” And then he slapped his palm against his forehead. What a way to impress the pretty new girl.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was about an hour before the dinner rush, Murphy was sitting at the end of the table, reading a book when he saw an approaching figure. He looked up and he nearly jumped.

“I knew you'd be back! I told you, 84.4% sure of it.” He wasn't. “And you brought a chess set! Who told you?”

“I heard from some people.” She admitted as she sat the chess board down and sat across from him.

“Good. The commentary box is too soggy on rainy days, and I've got to get my brain working on something.” Murphy told her.

“So you're not cross that I left you for Quidditch practice before you finished talking?” She asked a bit sheepishly, embarrassed to have took off when he hadn't finished.

“I'm never finished talking, so it happens all the time! If I get cross about it, I'd always be cross.” He joked with her as he started to set up the chess pieces.

“Then I hope that you're still open to teaching me about Quidditch Strategy.”

If he could, he would have jumped up in excitement. “Finally, you're talking sense! Now lets play some wizard chess.”

“But, I thought you were going to teach me about Quidditch strategy?” Her facial features twisted in confusion.

“I like your enthusiasm, Iris. Lets see if you can keep it up after I beat you.” He teased in his best flirtatious manner.

“We'll see about that.” She retorted with a glimmer in her eye. It almost felt like she was flirting right back at him.

“Iris observes the board, what will she choose?” He narrated as she picked up a pawn and made the first move on the board. “Very nice, this set is quite, mine always tell me I talk to much.”

“It's Penny's, she let me borrow it because I don't have a set myself.”

“Really? We need to remedy that next time we're in Hogsmead.” He stated in an offhanded way that would assure him a trip to Hogsmead with her.

“If you can find me a good one, then fine.” She smiled as he moved one of his pieces.

“Could you please not pinch me so tightly!” Yelled the knight as she picked it up. She placed it down and muttered an apology to the small white piece. They made banter back and forth, and while he was no expert in romance, he swore that they're chat had all the elements of flirting. He was thrilled about it.

“Checkmate!” He said triumphantly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you sure?” Iris asked scanning the board.

“Quite! Because first I moved my King to E3 and you moved your pawn to H6, then I moved my pawn to C3 and you moved your knight to C6, then your knight asked for you to not pinch it so tightly. Then I moved my queen to B3 and you moved your pawn to F6-”

“All right, I get it, you won.”

“I thought you found my commentary charming?” He asked.

“Your commentary is delightful, losing at chess is not.” Iris rested her face on her knuckles, tipping over her King.

“Have you ever played wizard chess before?” Murphy asked, feeling like perhaps she hadn't.

“How much I've played doesn't matter. I had never played Quidditch before, but you told me I'm a natural.”

“Yes, you're a natural, that's how you've been getting by in Quidditch with no sense of know-how. But lacking strategy is harder to hide in wizard chess.” He could see the gears in her head starting to turn, and he had to smile.

“So Wizard chess was a test to see if I'm lacking strategic instincts for only Quidditch? Or for everything?”

“Not everything, but yes, I was testing you. Think of it as our first training session. At least it's less sweaty than training with Skye, right?”

“It is. I can't say I miss getting covered head to toe in sweat. But, tell me this,” she looked at him with a piercing gaze. “What's your strategy? Why do you care so much about my chances of making the Quidditch team?”

“We're both Gryffindor's, and lets just say house impartiality isn't my strong suit. Got to keep it quiet in the box, if I want to be the next pro commentator. With that said, you're the Chaser we need to lead our team to the Quidditch Cup, Iris.” Her eyes searched his and he could tell she was looking for any deceit. “I know Quidditch! My whole life I've been eating, sleeping, breathing, studying it. From what I've seen, you could be an even bigger Quidditch star than Skye Parkin.”

“That's a bold statement.” Iris chirped with a little laugh that sounded more like a deep sigh.

“Hey, I mean it. I've never seen someone as absolutely clueless about Quidditch as you are come so far so fast.”

“Absolutely clueless? The compliments just keep on coming.”

“You're missing the headline, you're a Quidditch phenom, Iris!” He held out his arms in exclamation.

“Then could you tell Orion about me?”

“So you've heard I have Orion's ear.. Sure, I'll tell him about your brilliant wizard chess victory just now.” He smiled slyly.

“Murphy, I can't get on our house team if I can't even get a tryout.”

“And that tryout won't matter of all you know is Parkin's Pincer. Pull off a strategy I invented, and then I'll know you have the kind of strategic sense I can recommend.”

“Ok, fine. When do I start learning this strategy you invented.”

“You have practice after dinner right?”

“Yes.”

“After practice then.”

[acommonloon]

TL;DR

What a delicious memorable night!

Except, I returned to the scene of a crime and got a last call beer and I'm a little disturbed I can't remember what it was. Let me think.

Oh that's right. I remember now.

____________________________________________________________

I remember hours before, going in The Raven, circling the bar before walking back out, not a single beer worth the time to drink it.

I remember darting across two busy lanes of traffic to see what The Ainsley was all about. It was the second venue to inhabit my much loved and missed Blue Grass Brewing Company, where I bought countless beers in past years. I never went in The Sullivan, it first followed BBC but, The Ainsley laudes itself as an upscale sports bar.

I nearly didn't go in. The building outside blinded me with unadorned white walls and...they took all the fucking windows out! Still, I had just braved rush hour on Frankfort Ave in 90deg heat so I pushed on. I was back outside in less than 5 seconds.

The inside was...where old white people go to die and maybe a few patrons at the bar had succumbed. The place reeked like a basement couch leaking generations of old man farts and the barely moving white heads scattered along the bar looked like moths fluttering their last against a hot window sill. I ran back across Frankfort.

Briefly I considered bailing. I could be home in under an hour where I've got beer worth drinking for days, weeks even. I'm no quitter though. I was parked in front of Street Grub and Hops, a bizarrely named venue I'd been in a few times since The Mellow Mushroom failed to survive in Louisville's over crowded pizza market.

I remembered they had 30+ taps behind their large U-shaped bar and I could see the whole side of the building was open to the sidewalk. Inside a band was setting up to play so I was assured in this place I wouldn't need mothballs to dispel the odour of human demise.

If my sense of failing mortality seemed unaccountably morbid on a bright Friday afternoon, in my defense, a new place next to Street Grub caught my eye. NSD Bar it said on the sign. What's that? Never Say Die Bar <shakes head>

I was met at the bar by a lively young man with a lush black beard and handlebar mustache. Thirsty? he asked. You've no idea.

He gesture towards the wall of taps and said let me know if you see something that piques your interest.

I chuckled and said that's a tall order. I spend too much time beer hunting.

He laughed then and said to which spelling are you referring?

My brain stuttered then I got the clever play on words he'd heard in my "tall order" reply, accidental for sure.

Which did you mean I countered, then I spelled peak or pique? The second one he smiled as he walked off.

<sigh> it was 5:10 already and I didn't know it but I'd just experienced the high point of my visit to Street Grub. In spite of their large list, only one beer piqued my interest and Austin, of the peaky facial hair, apologized when he discovered it was no longer on. My second choice, in spite of being a Stone Brewing offering, had no more character than the Miller Lite branded glass they brought it in. Worst of all, the fried pickles sucked. I should have remembered that because I'd had them there before.

I got back in my car with no particular plan. Then remembered a friend had mentioned the bar I had visited on Saturday had a Speakeasy room in the basement. <shrug>The Speakeasy theme has never interested me but such places often do high quality drinks and my recent visit to Gerties upstairs bore that out. They made me a Penicillin or two actually and they were terrific. I could do with another or two.

As soon as I walked in, the bartender greeted me with, "You're back!" I grinned back at him and said, "I heard you've a room in the basement." We do and he pointed around the bar to a door and said tell the bartender downstairs his Penicillin isn't as good as mine.

Recently, the guy that runs a nearby wine bar told me I was memorable. He said, "You make an impression." I wasn't sure he was complimenting me but I do appreciate it when the bartender remembers what drinks I like. I headed downstairs into the dark. It was really dark and I was worried I might trip as I shuffled toward the dimly lit bar. The bartender shouted a hearty welcome and then he said knowingly, "I bet you want a Penicillin!" WTF

I replied, "What, the guy upstairs rang down? No he shook his head. I was at a loss until he took pity on me. He said, "I was upstairs the other day when you asked for a classic Penicillin. I make up all the drinks here so I noticed. Oh right, I said but actually, you look very familiar. Where have you worked before. When he said Red Herring it sounded right but I couldn't remember where that was. As soon as he told me it was next to the Silver Dollar the memories flooded back and we fondly reminisced about the drinks and food there.

Soon I had a classic Penicillin in front of me and we began to talk drinks. We included the only other guy at the bar in our conversation. He was rail thing, wore a scarf on his head, and had a robust but not too pornish mustache. I suspected he was staff there at Gerties. He was clearly interested but not so experienced. For the next two hours I enjoyed the back and forth and drinks.

Chad is a professional bartender who loves his job. He loves making drinks and he loves talking to people. While we chatted, more than twenty people, in pairs and sometimes larger groups came downstairs, got drinks and eventually left. At one point I was sure Matt Gaetz sat down at a two top. I did a double-take to be sure the woman with him wasn't Marjorie Taylor Greene in a wig. It was hard for me not to stare but I kept stealing glances. Eventually I concluded this guy was what Gaetz would look like if he wasn't befouled by evil. A very good looking guy!

When he left, I asked if I was the only one who thought that? No one had noticed but, by that time, Terrence, a large black man who'd come down with two white friends was standing next to me. He'd been ordering drinks when the bar conversation turned to German food and he joined our conversation eagerly. After delivering drinks to his friends, he returned to talk. When I suggested the guy who'd just left looked like the American traitor Matt Gaetz, he said no way! He went on to say Gaetz was a POS and if it had been him there might have been trouble. Lol, now that would have been memorable.

Terrence left wishing Chad and myself a good day, remembering both our names. It turned out the guy with the scarf on his head was a sous chef at nearby Bar Vetti. OMG, I'd meaning to go there but I worried D wouldn't like it. I asked him if they would make her a pepperoni pizza. He said they had one but it had calabrian and peppadew peppers on it. Yeah, can you take those off. Um yeah?

I said I'd just go check it out myself for dinner after I finished the Negroni riff Chad had excitedly made up on the spot using a special dry vermouth and something that wasn't Campari. He referred to it as a white Negroni. It was delicious!

Bar Vetti was only about a hundred feet down the sidewalk from Gerties. I enjoyed the early evening as I walked, it was comfortably warm with a gentle breeze and for the first time in a long time, Nulu felt normal. People were sitting outside the Taj and the Mayan Cafe, the evening was alive with conversation, color, and movement. When I looked in the windows of the new swanky Marriott Hotel it was the same inside and there might not be room for me at the bar.

I walked past the unattended hostess stand into a storm of blaring conversation. I stopped in front of an empty seat but there was a drink there so I turned around to the other side. I asked a man in a suit if the empty seat next to him was taken. It's yours he answered without looking away from his companion. I sat and picked up the wine list.

On my left were three young men, obviously of southwest Asian heritage. Within seconds I understood they were native English speakers and they were having a good time. The youngest one was next to me and he seemed barely old enough to shave. He was rather louder than the others and seemed to be mildly complaining about something. The bartender came over to them and appeared to pick up a conversation she must have started before I got there. It was really more of a lecture and she was telling them that she couldn't spend all of her time in front of them as she and another bartender had a full bar.

I felt myself tense a little, wondering if there was going to be an altercation. I didn't look at the young men but watched the bartender closely. While her words were stern, her body language seemed relaxed. I heard the man furthest away from me say, "That's fair." The bartender didn't acknowledge his words. She poured me a water and I asked for a glass of wine. Then I turned to the men.

"Are you guys from here or visiting?" I could see them tense up the young guy on guard most of all. I went on as if I hadn't noticed and said, I overheard you say this was your kind of place a minute ago. This is my first visit here and it's a bit fancy for me. They relaxed. I felt sure they were expecting to be challenged and I might look just like the kind of old white asshole who would do that.

We're from California the young guy said but we live here and work at Rabbit Hole. Do you know it?

Of course I said, it's something the city can really be proud of. I've been over there in the bar many times and the facility is gorgeous. Cameron seemed near to burst with happiness. He said, "We're just about to have a drink, will you join us? I said, sure what are we drinking. Rabbit Hole he said, "We got to represent!"

From that moment on, I had a dinner companion who was overjoyed to talk to someone who knows about the Kentucky whiskey business. When I said, the marketing for Rabbit Hole is genius, Cameron threw his hand up and pointed at the man farthest from me. Justin is our marketing!

Justin said well, to be honest I've only been there for 3 years and Cameron replied, "He's being too modest. We've only been open for 4 years. I asked Cameron, are you a distiller? I was when I first started he said. My uncle is the founder and I've got a business degree so now I work the financials. Wow, I replied.

He said, you have to come over and ask for us! We'll give you an insider tour. I waived that off a bit and said, I'll be sure to come back over but your beautiful column still is out where I can see it when I go to the bar on the roof. Sometimes I just stand at the end of the hall by the elevators and admire it. He said, "OMG we never get to talk to anyone like you!"

We had a drink of their Heigold and I didn't have to pretend it was good. I said, "I'd drank their sourced whiskey before but this was the first time I'd had something they'd distilled themselves other than their gin. It tasted more mature than I'd expected and I said I'd likely pick up a bottle now that I'd had it. I will.

Soon, Cameron's girlfriend came in and sat next to Justin. Cameron pretended to be annoyed and she seemed maybe a little suspicious of me. Soon she was sitting next to Cameron and was telling me all his faults. It was bar buddies in the best form. I asked for the whiskey list and suggested I buy us all a drink. I was disappointed by the selection TBH. The owner is a well-known whiskey aficionado and his BBQ joint just a block away has a much bigger selection of whiskey. I noticed an Old Forester Single Barrel Rye on the list and suggested it.

I specified it be served in rocks glasses instead of glencairns and we clinked our glasses when everyone had their drink. It was candy in a glass and far too sweet to be anything I'd recognize as rye whiskey but my bar buddies claimed to like it so no harm done.

When their food came, I settled my check and Cameron again expressed his pleasure at our talk. He renewed his invite to come to the distillery and I walked back out into the night.

When I got back to my car I looked up and saw Akasha Brewing was still open with people sitting at tables outside. The street at this end was quiet and peaceful. I remembered my last visit to Akasha hadn't gone well at all. The server there had refused to give me a taste of a beer. I was shocked. I'd already bought and paid for one beer when I asked for a taste. I said I was trying to decide which of two others I'd take home in a growler.

She said it was their policy not to give out tastes because people sometimes asked for lots of tastes and didn't buy a beer. WTF I had already bought a beer! I was so annoyed I'd decided not to drink at Akasha until they changed their stupid policy. If they were going to treat me like their worst customer, I wasn't going to spend my money there. Still, one more beer would be nice. Then I saw what I wanted.

That's it. A strong Belgian golden ale is what I had there!

[tigirl-and-co]

🤔 + Oswald Cobblepot? (-dragonsmooch)

Thank you for the ask!

agsfdsdsgd OKAY so

It’s sort of a werewolf AU? except moreso wolf-shifter. Ozzie is still a normal evil twink, but my S/I is (surprise surprise) a wolf-shifter

The exact details of the AU kinda depend on when in the canon timeline I’m shipping with him.

S1 + part of season 2 (basically any time pre-gertrude’s death) My S/I is the leader of sort of a rag-tag community of shifters who all live in an apartment complex in the shitty part of Gotham. She and Ozzie meet, etc. but the big reveal, instead of being consensual, happens when she finds out Oswald’s mom might be in danger, so she takes Gertie in and keeps her safe there, bc like. Some of these motherfuckers are grizzly bears u really gonna mess with them? I think not. So she reveals their secret before she’s ready in order to keep Gertie safe while Ozzie gets revenge

And eventually stuff happens yada yada and Martin enters the picture and she ends up co-adopting him and he gets to play happily with some babies/puppies. I think Martin would be a good big brother don’t @ me

~~

If I’m shipping post-elijah’s death, then she ends up just being a member of a nation-wide (hidden) family of wolf/monster shifters who have a gathering once a year deep in the woods. THIS becomes important bc after she reveals herself and introduces him to the family, they all end up really liking him, and he promises to use his power to positively influence how people would see them if they revealed themselves. (he’s lying obv. he has no idea how to go about that but whatchu gonna do)

But when he gets kidnapped/tortured/etc. A G A I N, they come to his rescue. What I mean by this is there is suddenly an entire army of huge, wolf-like monsters storming this building and everybody is like ‘WHAT. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. THERE’S NO PROTOCOL FOR THIS PENGUIN WHAT DID YOU DO” and Ozzie’s sitting there with that big shit-eating grin of his <333

~~

These also BOTH have a lot of angst fueled by Ozzie’s anti-freak smear campaign. During the crackdown on the Indian Hill escapees any shifters have to REALLY hide, moreso than normal, bc people are actually paying attention now.

I also love this au bc it could pass as an actual plot from the show bc. well the show is just Like That. It runs on comic book logic and is constantly dumb as hell. Lee turns goth and falls in love with a known serial killer and does back-alley medicine while holding a fight club. Jervis’ sister’s blood literally gives you Super Rabies. ‘Oswald’s girlfriend is secretly a wolf person’ is not that much of a stretch.

What can I say I’m a basic bitch who loves wolves and being awesome :P

I’ve also got an AU where I ended up taking Kristen’s place after she died and Ozzie and Butch had to go to the records room for whatever reason and I was just like “omg hiiiiiii hello how can I help you?” and basically treating him like a rando instead of. the fucking Evil Mayor of Shithole City. and he was annoyed at first but then started to find it endearing. The plot twist is that I knew who he was the whole time and I thought he was hot so I was intentionally trying to make him fall in love with me lmaoooooo

[rvnclwrites]

Romania 1999 Pt 5 (Charlie Weasley x Female MC)

Summary: AU where MC is an American who attended the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry instead of Hogwarts. Set eight years post graduation (1999) when she finally gets the nerve to travel abroad and follow her dream to be a Dragonologist in Romania. Check out my master list for parts 1 - 4.  

Notes: I’m so sorry this took me a million years to post. Life got crazy, and proof reading this long of a fic took me years, but I hope you enjoy :) part 6 will be the last part in this series, so stay tuned!

Word Count: A lot. I’m talking ~11,500. Whoops.

(Y/N) brought her steaming mug of tea to her lips as Charlie sat down beside her on the couch. It had been a couple days since the pair returned from their time off, and the Sanctuary was busier than ever. They had to split up the past two mornings since Hank and Scott were the ones up to date on how the dragons were doing, and (Y/N) was grateful for the space. Between all the time they'd spent together and Charlie's Christmas present, she needed to distance herself from her feelings, which was a lot easier to do when the redhead wasn't around.

"Did Norberta do that?" (Y/N) asked when Charlie began applying a thin layer of burn-healing paste to his wrist. 

"No, she did great. Aro on the other hand…" He flinched as the orange potion began to work its magic on the small patch of raw skin. "He wasn't as pleased to see me."

(Y/N) set her mug down on the wooden end table to her right and screwed the cap back onto the potion for him. That was the sixth burn she'd heard of in one week, and though it wasn't unheard of for the breed, it wasn't exactly normal either. "Does Hank have any idea what might be going on with him?"

"Not a clue. They did a physical evaluation yesterday and found nothing."

"Huh. Well, we can check on him again on Monday after Gertie and see if he's getting any better," (Y/N) suggested, placing the potion onto the coffee table in front of them.

Charlie smiled. "Sounds like a plan. How was Ventus?" 

"He did great after about ten minutes or so. I'm pretty sure he was giving me the cold shoulder at first for being gone."

The redhead chuckled. "Guess I'm not the only one to notice when you're not around." 

That caught (Y/N)'s attention. She tried to steady her heartbeat by forcing a laugh, ignoring Charlie's eyes on her. Was he saying he missed her? "I'm surprised you aren't sick of me after being stuck with me for a full week."

Charlie leaned back into the couch, propping his arm up on a pillow in his lap. "You're joking, right? That was one of the best holidays I've taken in years."

Not sure what to say, (Y/N) took a quick drink of her tea again to occupy herself, feeling her cheeks, and now her throat, burn.

"Did you mean what you said to my mum? About it being the best Christmas you've ever had?"

(Y/N) looked down at her lap, surprised Charlie remembered that. "Well yeah, but don't go getting a big head on me because that's not saying much." She bumped her shoulder against his, but Charlie frowned.

"You don't have to do that with me you know."

"Do what?" 

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Use jokes to cover up your feelings."

(Y/N) swallowed, realizing it sounded like she was bitter over her family when in reality she just didn't want Charlie to know how much she enjoyed spending the past week with him and his family. "Uh, sorry. It's a bit of a habit."

"Don't get me wrong, I like how tough you are, but you can talk to me about anything."

(Y/N) stared at him, blood pounding in her ears. I like how tough you are. She tugged at her sweater sleeves awkwardly. "Okay, then I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little jealous of your incredible family."

A smile grew Charlie's face. "I don't mind sharing. In case you didn't notice, my parents are pretty accustomed to taking in strays at this point."

Every nerve ending in (Y/N)'s body sparked, making it hard to think properly. Despite the fact that Charlie was talking about his siblings' significant others, (Y/N) reminded herself that Harry and Hermione had been Ron's friends at the start. Friends. Just like she and Charlie were.

She forced another smile, praying the dragon lover couldn't see the effect his words had on her. "Thanks. I'd like that."

"The only condition," Charlie added, narrowing his eyes at her, "is that you can't repeat any of the stories you hear to Hank or Scott."

The knot in (Y/N)'s stomach released and she burst out laughing. "Aw, come on. Can't I at least tell them you used to have a hippy ponytail like Bill does now?"

Charlie groaned, shaking his head adamantly. "Absolutely not. And I'm going to tell Bill you said that."

"I don't know why you're embarrassed by it. That picture of you was adorable." She glanced up at his orangey-red hair, which was still parted to the left like it had been in his Quidditch picture at Hogwarts but was now much shorter in the back. The thick layers up top fell past his ears and always seemed to droop in front of his face in the most adorable way. "You never did tell me why you lopped it all off."

Charlie ran a hand through the spiky strands up front, pushing them back like he always did even though they rarely stayed put. "I stopped wearing the ponytail once I left Hogwarts, but it actually wasn't until Bill's wedding that my mum had a go at it. I figured she had enough going on at the time, the least I could let her do was cut my hair."

"I take it you liked it short then?"

"No, she cut it really short. I used a spell on it a few days later but compromised by not letting it reach my shoulders."

The corners of (Y/N)'s mouth twitched as she pictured his trademark red hair as long as Bill's. "Well, if you ever grow it back out, I call dibs on braiding it. I love your hair." 

The look in Charlie's eyes made her heartbeat stutter. 

"You do?"

"Of course I do," (Y/N) said coolly, hoping her confession wasn't too intimate or weird. "Who wouldn't? It's the most distinguishable thing about you."

His gaze dropped back down to the orange paste on his arm. "In my experience, red hair and freckles have always been considered negative traits."

"Who the hell told you that?" (Y/N) asked, the sudden protectiveness making her body tense. "If anything, those are two of the most attractive things about you." 

Charlie's eyes trailed over to meet hers, and the blood drained from (Y/N)’s face when she registered what she had said. It didn't have to be embarrassing, right? It's not like she admitted she frequently thought about touching his hair and kissing every last one of those freckles.

"Oh, come on," she added to be safe, smacking his shoulder with a pillow. "You don't get to be self conscious. The most sought after woman here was interested in you for crying out loud. That's gotta be an ego boost."

Charlie sighed, giving (Y/N) a look he usually reserved for Hank. "I take it you're referring to Sydney?"

"Of course. Who else would I be referring to?" (Y/N) considered the other women in their age range at the Sanctuary. Jessica was the only other one their coworkers obsessed over, but they would never admit it. She was Dave's younger sister and common sense told everyone she was off limits.

"Now look who's selling themselves short."

(Y/N) stared wide-eyed at the redhead before barking a laugh. "You're kidding, right?" The serious look in his eyes, however, said otherwise, and her amusement faded. "I can assure you literally no one here has hit on me. Sydney probably made it abundantly clear where I stand with them."

Charlie pursed his lips together, looking as though he had something to add to the conversation.

"What?"

"I don't think it's because of Sydney," he said hesitantly.

(Y/N) stiffened. She knew the teams gossiped, she had just always hoped it wasn't about her. "What do you mean?"

"The only reason they haven't chatted you up is because…" He trailed off, looking as though he was hoping she could somehow magically connect the remaining dots.

"Because…?" (Y/N) urged. She genuinely had no clue where he was going with this.

Charlie kept his eyes on her, but (Y/N) could tell he was embarrassed. "Well, based off of comments they've made in the past, I think they're assuming there's something going on between us."

"Oh." The word came out like a high pitched croak due to (Y/N)'s sudden dry throat. While she had always worried about Hank and Scott assuming she was pining over the redhead, she hadn't given a second thought about what the other teams likely presumed about their relationship.

"I've tried to tell them otherwise," Charlie added, "but they listen just about as well as Aro does."

The expression on his face made it seem as though Charlie had been teased about their friendship at one point or another, and (Y/N) tried to ignore the nervous pitter-patter of her heart at the thought. "Shit, I'm sorry. Did you want me to talk to them? I can tell them to piss off."

Charlie smiled a little. "No, I don't care what they think, I just- I thought you should know. You know, in case you wanted any of them to ask you out."

"What? No," (Y/N) said automatically, unable to stop the distaste from showing on her face at the idea of anyone at the Sanctuary asking her out. Anyone except… She swallowed, forcing herself back to the present moment. "If anything, I should say thanks. That's spared me a lot of trouble. But… doesn't it bother you?"

Charlie's brows drew together. "Why would it? You're the most amazing woman I've ever met."

Just like that, it suddenly felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Did he… did he really just say that? 

An indistinguishable shift in tension settled over them as they stared at one another, and (Y/N) realized how easy it would be to make a move. She could practically feel the words pleading to leave her mouth- Charlie, is there something going on between us?

But Charlie continued speaking, extinguishing the opportunity and snapping her back to reality.

"Besides, they-"

Boots clomping on (Y/N)'s front porch followed by an abrupt knock on the screen door made both Dragonologists jolt in their seats and turn around towards (Y/N)'s front door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Hank said, pushing open the squeaky screen door, "but some woman's here to see ya, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) froze, and a heavy lead weight started to creep its way up her legs, settling itself neatly inside her stomach. "Did she say her name?"

"Nah. She said it's a surprise? Adorable little thing with blonde hair. Looks to be about your age."

"Oh my God!" (Y/N) squealed, jumping to her feet. "Charlie, hold that thought- I promise I'll be right back!"

She flew past Hank, not even bothering to grab a jacket despite the chilly temperatures. Dashing down the porch steps, she yelped again when she spotted the one and only Penny Haywood near the entrance gates.

"What are you doing here?" (Y/N) cried, colliding into her friend with the best bear hug she could manage. 

Penny giggled, hugging (Y/N) back just as enthusiastically and refusing to let go even for a second. "My family decided to visit relatives in Britain over Christmas break, so I thought I'd surprise you for New Year's." 

(Y/N) felt a tightness creep into her throat. She couldn't believe Penny was really here, she had missed her so much. "You scared the hell out of me, you know," (Y/N) whispered into the blonde's ear.

She could hear the dorky grin in Penny's voice. "Just making sure you're staying alert. You seemed to be getting quite cozy here in your letters."

"Alright, alright," came an unexpected masculine voice behind Penny, and (Y/N)'s mouth dropped open when she glanced up. "I gave you the first two minutes like I promised, but I want my hug now."

"Barnaby!" (Y/N) gasped, her heart swelling so much she could hardly breathe. 

Penny conceded and released (Y/N) from her death grip long enough for (Y/N) to lunge at the Thunderbird. The six foot tall Magizoologist lifted her off the ground with ease, spinning her around in a full circle and squeezing her as tight as he could without crushing her. "You didn't think I'd miss out on this epic trip, did you?"

(Y/N) felt her eyes burn from the elation while Barnaby set her gently back on her feet. "I've missed you guys so much. How is everyone?"

"We'll catch you up on everything," Penny promised before a mischievous glint reflected in her blue eyes. "But first, you have to tell me who's waiting on your front porch for you."

(Y/N) turned to see Charlie leaning against the porch railing. He smiled at her, which only worsened (Y/N)'s over-stimulation and brought his earlier statement rushing back into her mind. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met. Shit, what had he been about to say to her?

"Merlin's beard, is (Y/N) (L/N) blushing?" Penny gushed, playfully shoving (Y/N)'s shoulder. 

Barnaby howled with laughter. "Awh, come on, don't tell me this place has made you a softie."

"Would you two shut up, we're just friends," (Y/N) hissed even though neither of them had been remotely loud enough for anyone to hear. "I'll only introduce you if you guys promise to behave."

"Fiine," Penny huffed, and Barnaby drew an "X" over his chest. 

"Cross my heart."

(Y/N) bit her lip, secretly excited for Charlie to meet her friends. She hoped he liked them as much as she liked his family. 

An unpleasant thought struck her, however, as she swiveled around and saw Dave and Russell gawking from the researcher's picnic table. For a ridiculous moment, (Y/N) didn't want to introduce Penny to Charlie until common sense caught up with her. In fact, as they approached the porch, (Y/N) noticed his eyes weren't even on the blonde at all, but rather on Barnaby.

"Charlie, this is Barnaby and Penny, two of my best friends from America."

"It's great to meet you," Charlie said, extending a hand to Barnaby, but (Y/N) noticed a change in his demeanor since they had been talking. Was he mad at her for running out on their conversation? She sure hoped not.

The redhead turned to do the same for Penny, but (Y/N) was mortified when the blonde flung herself forward instead, hugging Charlie without warning. 

"Thank you for looking out for her," she said, unapologetically squeezing him once before releasing him. (Y/N) was going to kill her later.

Charlie chuckled, his posture rigid as usual from the unexpected physical contact. "This one hardly needs taking care of."

(Y/N) smiled at that. Charlie needed to start being more careful or her head was going to be the size of a hot air balloon by the end of the night.

"Isn't that the truth," Penny muttered, shooting (Y/N) a pointed look. "So what now? We don't want to butt in if you're busy."

(Y/N) shrugged. "No, we were just hanging out. We're always done a few hours before nightfall. What do you guys want to do?"

"Can we tour the place at all?" Barnaby asked, the childlike excitement evident in his voice. 

Unsure of the rules, (Y/N) glanced to Charlie, who checked the watch on his wrist. 

"As long as (Y/N)'s with you and you stay far enough away from each dragon, then sure. Just stick to the paths and be back by dusk."

Penny beamed, instantly dragging Barnaby towards the winding pathway past Charlie's house. "C'mon then, what are we waiting for?"

(Y/N) moved to follow them, but when Charlie stayed put, she turned back. "Aren't you coming?"

His eyebrows raised. "Oh no, it's cool. Go catch up with your friends."

She shot him a funny look. Did he really think she was going to ditch him because her old friends showed up? Without questioning the urge, (Y/N) grasped his hand the way Penny had Barnaby's and tugged his arm once. "Then you have to come too."

His gaze trailed down to where their hands were connected before settling back on (Y/N). Refusing to feel self conscious, she squeezed his hand and urged him forward again, earning herself another half smile as he conceded and followed her down the porch steps.

And the best part? Charlie squeezed her hand right back.

Penny and Barnaby stayed at the Sanctuary for the weekend, celebrating the new millennium with (Y/N)'s team and catching up on everything they had missed in each others' lives. (Y/N) tried her best not to babble too much about the Sanctuary but could hardly help it as story after story came rushing to her head. She got to hear all about Penny's teaching position and Barnaby's new pets back home. They told her how Rowan and Jae were doing, and at night (Y/N) was able to confide in Penny about her confusing feelings for the redhead. It was so amazing to have them there that it went by in a blur and, as (Y/N) anticipated, saying goodbye became one of the hardest tasks in the world. 

But the one thing that made the inevitable easier to stomach was Charlie, who was waiting for her with two brooms in hand as soon Penny and Barnaby left on Sunday morning.

"Figured you could use a ride right now," he said, extending one of the Nimbus 2008s to her. 

She beamed at him, refusing to acknowledge the lump in her throat while she mounted the broom. What would she do without him? 

He lead the way to the Thestrals, surprising (Y/N) again with just how well he knew her. The comfort of the creatures combined with Charlie's company meant more to her than she could put into words. 

"So how you doing?" he asked, keeping his eyes on her as they sat next to each other on a large rock near the pond. The concern in his voice brought (Y/N) back to that bench at the Burrow and Charlie admitting he was worried she'd want to go back to the States.

"I'm okay. I still have the dragons and you, don't I?" She nudged him playfully, wanting him to know she would be alright. Even in America, (Y/N) jumped around so much she became accustomed to not seeing her friends for months at a time. Her sadness from today would dissolve soon enough and the redhead was undoubtedly expediting that process.

He smiled at her, his freckled face pink in the afternoon sunlight. "Definitely."

"So my crazy friends didn't scare you away then?"

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "No, they were cool. I'm glad I got to meet them."

"Me too. Even if they are humiliating sometimes..." She shuddered, remembering Penny revealed that (Y/N) spent most of their third year in the library reading about dragons.

"Just consider the playing field a little bit more even now," Charlie said. "More incentive for you to not tell Hank or Scott any of my stories."

"Yeah, yeah." She studied the resting Thestral in front of her and replayed the weekend events in her head a few times. "I would say it went pretty well though."

"Aside from Logan hitting on both of them. He's ridiculous."

(Y/N) laughed. The thirty year old research team member was the most flirtatious wizard she had ever met. "Oh, I considered it a win that he was the only one. Those two always get hit on, especially Penny." 

Charlie didn't say anything in response, so she added, "It's okay, you know. You can admit she's hot, it's no secret."

Their gazes met and the guileless look in his eyes told (Y/N) he wasn't hiding anything. "Yeah, I mean she's pretty I guess."

(Y/N) stared at him, stupefied by his disinterest. In the fifteen years she had known the Pukwudgie, nearly everyone was a little stunned by her beauty. "Okay, was your girlfriend at Hogwarts some sort of rare godless-like creature or am I missing something?"

Charlie looked back toward the Thestral and (Y/N) had the sudden fear she made the dragon lover uncomfortable. Just as she was about to apologize and tell him to forget it, he said, "She was nice."

(Y/N) held her breath, waiting- or at least hoping- for him to continue. That couldn't have been the only quality he liked about her. Sydney may have walked a tight line on that one, but Penny and Fleur were nice too.

"And we were friends." The redhead sighed, rubbing the stubble across his jawline. "I don't expect you to understand because no one seems to, but I'm only ever attracted to someone after I know them. After we're friends." 

(Y/N) prayed he couldn't hear the nervous hammering of her heart. They were friends. Did that mean that she could actually have a chance with him?

She shook her mind of the thought, scolding herself for being so selfish. Scooting closer to the dragon lover, (Y/N) allowed her shoulder to press against his as she placed a hand on his forearm. "Hey, what's wrong with that?"

He glanced down at her, his brown eyes searching hers for something. "I don't know. People have given me grief about it since I was a teenager. They just don't get it." 

She frowned, not sure if she was more upset for Charlie or angry with those people. "I would've never made that comment if I'd known. I'd never make fun of or judge you for anything like that. Those people are assholes."

A grateful smile tugged at the redhead's lips. "Thanks."

Their eyes met again, and for a ridiculous, utterly delusional moment, (Y/N) thought she felt another shift in tension between them. Did he just lean in closer?

She was clearly losing her wits because Charlie merely turned to face the Thestrals again, saying, "So what about you?"

(Y/N) blinked, attempting to calm her rampant pulse. "Huh?" No wonder they called it lovesick. The way this man fried her brain cells was sickening.

"You've heard all about my lack-luster love life, and yet I've heard nothing about yours. Surely you left some bloke heartbroken back across the pond?"

Less than pleasant memories resurfaced in (Y/N)'s mind, causing an angst-riddled scoff to escape her lips. "Hardly," she muttered, the flashbacks leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Charlie waited patiently, clearly expecting further explanation, and (Y/N)'s gut twisted as she was forced to confront one of the many aspects about her past that she would prefer to forget.

She couldn't blame her ex's. (Y/N) had more baggage than most their age- baggage that had to be kept under wraps and constantly required her to move from place to place. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt when people you cared for called you selfish and a liar. Or when they betrayed you.

"My first relationship was great," she began, wanting him to know not all of her experiences had been shitty. "He was insanely sweet and was in the same Ilvermorny house as me, so we had a lot in common. But after my brother died, I needed space and he understood." She tried not to fidget, grateful the cool air kept her hands from sweating. "We never could rekindle what we once had, so I moved on to a new state and new career."

"And after that?" Charlie asked. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was stalling.

(Y/N) sighed, drawing her knees against her chest. "Let's just say I learned early on that it's better not to get involved with people until you're ready to settle down." 

Charlie seemed to consider this. "I take it someone didn't like it when you switched jobs again?"

She shook her head. "I asked him to come with me, but he didn't want to." She shuddered, still able to feel the slap of rejection after all this time. "I'd never had someone be so angry with me before and it's not really something I ever want to experience again." (Y/N)'s head began to ache because the memories were only an earth-shattering reminder of why she and Charlie would never work. Of why she should never trust anyone but her four Ilvermorny friends with her secrets ever again.

Charlie tensed beside her, his jaw muscles flexing. "I'd ask if he hurt you, but I have no doubt the damage you've done if he tried." 

A welcomed grin took over (Y/N)'s face. She and Charlie had dueled each other loads of times, most of which ended with Charlie on the ground first. "You betcha."

"Sorry for bringing it up if you didn't want to talk about it."

"No, it's okay," (Y/N) assured, feeling that it was only fair considering what he told her. "It's probably healthier to talk about it."

"Have you dated anyone since?" Charlie asked.

She shook her head. "A couple flings here and there, but he stabbed me in the back pretty good. Haven't really been able to trust anyone enough." 

"No one at all?" 

(Y/N) held her breath and glanced up at the redhead. Was he asking if she trusted him?

As her heart rate increased, Charlie added hesitantly, "What about Barnaby?"

A mixture of disappointment and bewilderment bubbled in (Y/N)'s stomach. "What?" Her shoulders shook with laughter, and she cringed at the mere thought. "No. Merlin no." She continued laughing until she saw unexpected tension release from Charlie's shoulders and remembered his expression when he met the Thunderbird.

Wait, was he…

"I just thought you two seemed close," he said with a shrug.

(Y/N) studied him closely. "I trust that guy with my life, but not like that. He's like my brother." 

Charlie remained quiet, and a realization struck (Y/N). While she may have had several intimate bonds with a handful of friends, Charlie really only seemed to have his brother, who was now married, and her. Jealousy could exist in platonic forms, not just romantic.

"Charles Weasley," (Y/N) began, an arrogant grin spreading across her face. "Are you jealous of my friendship with Barnaby?"

Color flooded the redhead's cheeks faster than (Y/N) could say gotcha, and he jerked his head back towards the Thestrals. "What? No, of course not." 

"Merlin's beard, you so are!" (Y/N) couldn't stop herself from poking his side, and he swatted her hand away. 

"Sod off," he said, standing up to avoid her teasing, and she hurried after him towards their brooms.

"Oh, come on. There's no need to fight over me. I can have more than one best guy friend, you know."

Charlie turned back around unexpectedly, making (Y/N) reel back to stop herself from colliding into his chest. He stared down at her, his mesmerizing eyes piercing right through her, but a roar in the distance caught their attention before he could speak.

(Y/N)'s face lit up at the familiar sound. "Wanna go check on Aro?"

Charlie paused, the teasing seemingly forgotten as his eyebrows raised. "You want to go check on him? ...On our day off?"

"Sure, why not?" She was surprised he was even questioning her. Charlie was always down to visit the dragons.

Amusement reflected in those brown eyes and he stared at her so long, (Y/N) wanted to look away, but she didn't. 

"Sure," he said finally, a grin growing on his pale face. "Race you."

-

To say Aro was more irritable than usual was an understatement. The Hungarian Horntail would barely let them stand a hundred feet away, let alone the standard fifty. The pair had to use the surrounding trees and boulders to sneak closer, keeping their motions limited and voices low.

"When exactly did he burn you?" (Y/N) asked, crouching behind a thick, leafless oak tree.

Charlie thought for a moment. "Actually, it was after I fed him, which I found odd. He's usually one of the easiest to manipulate with food, but he almost seemed worse right after he ate."

She considered this. While a physical exam wouldn't diagnose gastrointestinal issues, there was no way the food would have made it to the digestive tract that quickly. "No vomiting?"

"Nope. Felix thinks they're going to have to take a blood sample tomorrow unless they find out what's wrong."

(Y/N)'s heart sank. Withdrawing dragon's blood was no easy task. Their thick skin was hard to penetrate even with the use of magic, and it was usually a painful, traumatic experience for the creature. "No. We'll figure out what's wrong with him."

One of Charlie's heart stopping smiles made an appearance, releasing a hoard of butterflies in (Y/N)'s chest. 

"What's the plan then?"

She peered around the tree, glancing at the dragon perched on the solid ground. His posture was tense and tail rigid, indicating he was either alert or in constant pain. Since there were no alarming sounds or threats nearby, (Y/N) assumed it had to be the ladder, but what could be hurting him that wouldn't show up in a physical?

"Charlie, do you think you could get him to open his mouth?" she asked suddenly.

The redhead chuckled. "I don't think that will be a problem."

She smiled apologetically. "Preferably without it being followed by fire though."

"Alright, that might be a tad bit more difficult." He reached for a Snitch-sized rock on the ground before standing and moving behind the next tree in line. "Mind telling me what we're looking for first?"

"The mouth is the only external part not checked in a physical."

Charlie quirked an eyebrow. "You think he's being this mean over a toothache?"

"He could've cut his tongue or have an infection," she whispered, hurrying past Charlie to duck behind a nearby boulder. (Y/N) was no longer thankful for the surprisingly warm January day; snow would have been a welcomed distraction for what she was about to do. "I'm gonna get as close as I can to see while you try to distract him."

Charlie nodded hesitantly. "You sure you don't want to wait until tomorrow? I'd say the probability of getting burned is pretty high."

Despite knowing the odds were likely not in her favor, they could keep looking for answers if they were wrong today. If they were wrong tomorrow, Felix would probably move forward with the blood withdrawal. "I'm willing to get a little banged up for Aro's sake."

The redhead still didn't seem as convinced. "Why don't you let me get close to him while you distract him?"

"Because you don't know what different injuries to look out for. How many dragons here have had gum infections or tongue abrasions?"

Charlie pursed his lips together. "Fair point."

She smiled at him, hating the way her heart warmed at his obvious concern. "I'll be fine as long as you promise to apply the burn-healing paste for me."

The worry instantly left Charlie's face, replaced by an amused smile. "Deal."

(Y/N) ignored the butterflies in her stomach, along with the thought that maybe the burn that was likely to follow wouldn't be so bad. "Now throw the rock while I try to get a good view of his mouth."

Charlie obliged while she army crawled forward, staying low to the ground and wiggling her body as little as possible. When the rock hit the ground, Aro's head lifted in response, body seemingly frozen as those intense eyes darted around the clearing. (Y/N) froze, hoping she was far enough to the dragon's right that he would miss her. Thankfully, Charlie sent another rock past Aro this time, causing the dragon's head to jerk in the opposite direction. He growled at the pebble, displaying the right side of his mouth to (Y/N). No black teeth, purple gums, or bleeding there. 

She glanced back at Charlie, motioning for him to toss the next rock up into the air. He did one better by withdrawing his wand and using the levitation spell on the rock. Aro's head followed the rock as it climbed through the air, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to center herself with the dragon. His growl was a low grumble, clearly more intrigued by the rock than threatened, but his mouth was just wide enough for her to spot the blood oozing from his top left canine. It was no wonder the team didn't notice it- most would assume the blood was from the raw meat he was being fed.

Realizing Aro was losing interest in the rock, she scrambled to her feet, retreating to the nearest tree. He howled in anger when she made a break for it, but the Hungarian Horntail surprised her. Instead of letting out an angry burst of flames like she was anticipating to dodge, Aro whipped his tail from out behind him, nailing (Y/N) right between the shoulder blades.

She stumbled forward from the blow, letting out a gasp as the spikes punctured her skin. She caught herself from face planting on the rock solid ground and instinctively tried to push herself up until agonizing pain unfurled inside her, forcing her arms to give out. She tried to crawl forward, just barely registering Charlie distracting Aro in the background. Thank God for that.

Once (Y/N) reached a large enough rock, she used her abs instead of her arms to pull herself up and leaned against the chilled stone for support as she made her way back to her feet.

"What hurts?" Charlie asked once he reached her, his voice gentle as always. He had always been the best at staying calm under pressure.

"Upper back," she gritted, digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand. She couldn't stop herself from slumping against the redhead when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her away from the rock, carefully trying to avoid the injury.

"Madam Rosetta's is at least a ten minute walk from here. Can you make it?"

(Y/N) shook her head, but not for the reason Charlie was thinking of. Despite the stinging pain, she could force herself to make it just about anywhere, but thankfully she was cognizant enough to know better.

"Do you want me to carry you there?"

Burying her face into that forest green shirt he was wearing seemed like one of the most appealing options in the world, but she willed herself to shake her head again while her body and subconscious called her a traitor. "Just help me get the nearest emergency shed first."

Even though the pain was isolated to her back, each step felt worse than the last as (Y/N)'s adrenaline wore off. Once they reached one of the dozens of sheds scattered throughout the Sanctuary, (Y/N) rested a palm against the dark wood for support while Charlie held the door open for her.

Blinking through the black and white dots clouding her vision, (Y/N) eased her way into the cramped shed, stumbling toward the familiar oak table against the left wall and letting out a hiss of pain while she leaned back against it. "Son of a bitch."

As the shed door banged shut behind Charlie, she squeezed her eyes shut and eased herself up onto the wooden table, gripping the ledge on either side of her. She was probably going to bruise her palms from how tightly she was holding on, but she didn't care. She'd do anything to find relief from the searing pain emanating from the space between her shoulder blades.

Two creaks of the floorboards and a sudden nearby warmth told her her Charlie was now beside her, undoubtedly surveying the damage.

"We've got to get you to Madam Rosetta."

His voice seemed to be about the only thing that could bring (Y/N) any relief. Smooth as honey and concern for her threaded into each syllable. But there was no way she could do that. The Sanctuary had rules when it came to serious injuries. Rules that required documentation and professional review- more written proof of her being here.

(Y/N) shook her head once, releasing a slow, calming breath before she blinked her eyes open. She was wrong- her best friend’s freckled face brought her an ounce of relief too.

"I just your need help," she insisted as calmly as she could while brushing hair away from the nape of her neck. A light smear against her fingertips indicated just how deep the wound was and Charlie let out a hiss of breath.

"Bloody hell."

She attempted a pathetic smile while she wiped away the faint trace of blood smudged across her fingers with the sleeve of her sweater. "Quite a literal choice of words there, don't you think?"

Charlie didn't laugh. His intense brown eyes were laser focused on her back, and embarrassment settled over her when (Y/N) realized she needed to take her shirt off.

"What are you doing?" he asked, more alarmed than (Y/N) had ever heard him before as she fumbled behind herself to grip the back of the sweater. 

With a wince and a frustrated sigh, (Y/N) lowered her hands back to her sides. "Can you help me lift the back of my shirt over my head?"

Considering this was the man who flinched at hugs and flushed at cheek kisses, (Y/N) waited for him to protest, but it never came. To her surprise, Charlie moved without being told twice, carefully sliding the hem of her gray sweater up and stretching out the collar to guide it seamlessly over her head. 

(Y/N)’s shirt now rested in front of her, giving her a view of the slashed and blood soaked material. Despite how off putting the sight of her own blood was, she kept her arms in the sleeves, thankful the bunched up fabric managed to cover up most of her cleavage. Why couldn't she have worn a sports bra today?

“It’s over a centimeter deep,” Charlie said, averting his eyes from the wound. The raspy falter in his voice made (Y/N) wonder if it was the severity of the injury or the fact that she was practically shirtless that left him so unnerved. They were best friends right? This was no different than him seeing her in a bikini top.

(Y/N) slowly straightened her slumped shoulders, forcing away all visible signs of insecurity for Charlie’s sake. Anything to make him feel less uncomfortable. “Can you speak American for two seconds? My brain is a little too overwhelmed to handle the metric system right now.”

Charlie smiled for the first time since they had stepped foot inside the shed and held his thumb and index finger up to show her.

“Okay, about half an inch. Thank you.” She attempted to pull her hair free from the neckline of the sweater but stopped abruptly as the abrasion moved with her shoulder blade. She let out a second grunt of irritation and pain, hating nothing more than the temporary loss of her independence. Just as she was about to try again, her breath caught as Charlie’s fingertips brushed against her neck, freeing the trapped strands and brushing them over one shoulder.

“What do I do?” The look in his eyes was urgent, and (Y/N)’s heart squeezed in response. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t tell her she was an idiot for not going to the nurse. He just wanted to help her.

She smiled gratefully and pointed to the top shelf on the back wall. “Grab one of the purple bottles on the right.” Staring down at her sweater, her head pounded argumentatively while she racked her brain for the blood cleaning spell. It started with a T and was right on the tip of her tongue. “Ugh.” She roughly rubbed a hand over her face, wanting the throbbing sensation in her back to stop for just one second.

“What?” Charlie asked, instantly stepping back in front of her and setting the potion bottle onto the table beside her thigh.

She turned away from him as a frustrated flush reached her cheeks. Two of the traits she prided herself most on were her intelligence and independence, both of which were failing her right now. “I can’t remember the stupid spell to clear all this blood up. I was a Healer for an entire year and I can’t remember the damn spell.”

“Hey.” Charlie’s cold fingers rested beneath (Y/N)’s chin, gently forcing her to look at him. The touch was quick, but the striking contrast to her scorched skin made (Y/N)’s head spin. “Your body is beat up enough. We don’t need you taking swings at it too, okay?”

(Y/N) nodded, still slightly dazed from the feeling of his hand against her skin. “Okay.”

Charlie grabbed a stack of towels from the shelf and set them beside the potion bottle. “This may hurt,” he warned, tugging on a fresh pair of work gloves, “but I’ll try to put as little pressure as possible.”

(Y/N) nodded, squeezing her eyes shut again as Charlie picked up one of the towels and began blotting away the excess blood from around the wound. She calmed herself by breathing in through her nose and exhaling through her mouth while counting to ten, the technique she used to encourage her former patients to use.

“What now?” Charlie asked, setting the blood stained towel off to the side.

(Y/N) twisted the cap off of the potion and poured a generous amount of the purple liquid onto a fresh towel before handing it to Charlie. Leaning forward so her back was more accessible, she said, “This will clean it and prevent infection. Just dab it until it starts to smoke.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie muttered when she sucked in a sharp breath as the wet towel touched her skin.

She knew the potion stung and had anticipated the pain, but it was even worse than the burn-healing paste. She bit her lip hard and was relieved when the antiseptic started to settle into the wound, alleviating some of the discomfort. 

Charlie’s forehead creased with concern after he set aside second towel and gloves. “It’s smoking, but it’s still bleeding a little.”

“It’s okay. Do you remember the third healing spell I taught you?"

Nodding, Charlie withdrew his wand but hesitated. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather Madam Rosetta do it? We've only practiced that one a handful of times.”

“Now who’s beating themselves up? You also mended Gertie’s broken claw last month on your first try and bandaged Scott’s leg two weeks ago like a pro.” 

“But none of those were this severe.” He glanced down at the infliction for a minute before their eyes met again, and his voice was barely audible when he spoke. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile at him. “You won’t, you’ll help me. We’re best friends, right? I trust you.” 

Something sparked in Charlie’s eyes at those words, and after a minute, he nodded. “Vulnera Sanentur, right?” The melodic phrase fell from his lips with the perfect inflection on each syllable.

She grinned and leaned forward again. “Just like that, three times.”

He did exactly as he was taught, tracing his wand back and forth and performing the spell with so much elegance, (Y/N) was too distracted to notice the poking of his wand or the feeling of her broken skin knitting back together. When the words stopped, it felt as though someone had used a Time Turner, reverting back before Aro had ever scratched her.

“Merlin’s beard,” Charlie breathed, his voice full of wonder and pride while (Y/N) exhaled in relief. She knew what he was feeling- Vulnera Sanentur was one of those spells that had the ability to take your breath away when you saw it work. Without warning, he set his wand down and traced his fingers across her upper back, making (Y/N)'s head and heart go haywire. She sucked in a shaky breath and Charlie paused, looking alarmed. “Does it still hurt?” 

Mortified, (Y/N) shook her head and hopped off the table. “Are you kidding? You did it perfectly!” She wanted to hug him but stopped herself once she registered her current sweater situation, which only led to a second wave of embarrassment. He probably wouldn’t appreciate (Y/N) pressing her blood covered shirt or her bra-clad chest against him. Studying the material, she realized she still couldn’t recall the blood cleaning charm and wondered what the hell was wrong with her. 

Her attention returned to the redhead when she heard rustling, only to find Charlie now in a white undershirt, extending his long sleeve shirt toward her. For a moment, (Y/N) just stared at the green fabric in his hand while her heart continued to have a mind of its own. He was offering her his shirt. It took a moment for that realization to sink in, and (Y/N) wasn't sure which outcome was worse- having to put her mangled, bloody sweater back on or Charlie continuing to stand there in his nearly see-thru t-shirt that clung to his body like static. Neither were great options. 

“You don’t have to,” she began, but he pushed the cotton material into her hand.

“Take it. I don’t want you to start freaking out about that spell again.”

(Y/N) smiled softly, deciding she was hardly about to put up a fight after what he had just done for her. As soon as she began to slip her arms free from her sweater, Charlie rotated around towards the table, turning (Y/N)'s insides to mush. He was so sweet she couldn't take it.

All the nerves in (Y/N)’s body jolted to attention when she pulled the fresh material over her head and a wave of Charlie's scent hit her. It took all of her self control to not bunch the material up against her nose and breath in that overwhelmingly pleasant honeysuckle and grass smell. "Thanks," she muttered, letting him know it was safe to look once the hem of the shirt fell past her hips. Charlie was only four or five inches taller than (Y/N), but the shirt was easily two sizes too big because of his broad chest and defined arms.

She tossed her sweater onto the table and was surprised to find Charlie staring at her. His eyes held an intensity (Y/N) had never seen before and she started to feel claustrophobic in the tiny shed. Why was he looking at her like that? She attempted to take a step back, but the heel of her boot clacked against the wood panel wall behind her. His gaze somehow managed to feel more invasive now than when she was standing beside him in her bra just moments ago.

(Y/N) was about to ask what he was staring at, but she didn't have a chance to speak. Without warning, Charlie closed the distance between them, his hand suddenly cupping her cheek, his body pushing her back against the wall, and before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her. 

Butterflies erupted in (Y/N)'s stomach and her brain short circuited as Charlie's mouth met hers. Her palms landed on his chest while Charlie's free hand gripped her waist, and she was frozen in place. The only move her instincts allowed her to make was to close her eyes and kiss him back.

She may have imagined kissing the redhead more times than she'd ever admit, but this was nothing like those fantasies. She had always assumed he would be sweet and gentle, maybe even shy. Boy was she wrong. 

(Y/N)'s heartbeat pounded like a Bludger trapped inside her chest as Charlie's body pressed against her own. His calloused fingers dug into her hip, keeping her firmly in place, and (Y/N) sucked in a breath as their tongues swirled against one another, sending a wave of pleasure over her. She involuntarily curled her fingers into his shirt to tug him closer, unable to believe how good this man's mouth felt on hers. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire. She never wanted him to stop. She wanted to do this all the time.

But unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end. (Y/N) wasn't sure if it had been a few seconds, minutes or hours when Charlie finally jerked back. Both of them just stared at one another for a minute, wide eyed and breathless. Charlie's heavily freckled cheeks burned a shade of red (Y/N) had never seen on him before.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, and (Y/N) could tell by the panicked look growing in his brown eyes that he was about to freak out. He took a step back and closed his eyes, roughly rubbing one of his palms over his forehead.

(Y/N) just blinked at him, her chest still heaving up and down as she tried to circulate more oxygen to her brain. Anything to help the gears in her head start moving again. In that moment, she wanted to be bold. (Y/N) wanted to pull Charlie back against her and tell him to do it again. She wished more than ever that she hadn't accepted his shirt so there would have been something more substantial to clutch onto, forcing him to stay close for as long as she wanted. But instead, there she stood, dumbfounded, confused and unable to form a single damn sentence. Her chin still tingled where his stubble had scratched her, which somehow managed to be both the best and worst feeling all at the same time. 

"Chaarlie," a muffled voice called from outside, breaking their staring contest. 

Hank. Of bloody course.

The redhead looked tormented as his gaze alternated between (Y/N) and the shed door. His brain seemed to be just as rattled as her own.

"Go see what he wants," (Y/N) encouraged with a weak smile, reaching for her sweater on the table. "I'm good." She was referring to her back but hoped it passed for both the injury and the... the word kiss lit up in neon inside (Y/N)'s head. Holy shit. Charlie Weasley had seriously just kissed her.

He hesitated, frowning slightly. "You sure?" 

(Y/N) wasn't sure what to make of his expression and still couldn't think properly, so she nodded. The last thing she needed was to have a mental breakdown in front of him while overthinking what the hell just happened. "Yeah, of course. Let's go see what he wants." 

-

"There you are," Hank said, jogging down the path as soon as Charlie emerged from the shack. "Everything okay?" His greying eyebrows ratcheted up as (Y/N) leaned against the door frame, and her face flamed once she realized all the scenarios undoubtedly running through the forty-three year old's mind. She was wearing Charlie's shirt for heaven's sake.

"All good," she said, quickly folding her sweater over her arm so the deep red patch faced Hank.

His cocky smile vanished immediately. "Merlin's beard, you sure? What the hell happened?"

Charlie and (Y/N)'s gaze met briefly before they both looked away. 

"We found out what's wrong with Aro," (Y/N) answered, hoping to lead the conversation to the safest territory she knew- dragons.

Hank sighed, shaking his head. "Seriously? You guys can't even take the weekend off?" When neither Charlie nor (Y/N) responded, Hank's forehead creased. "Is that all? You two look like you've seen a dementor."

The anxious look in Charlie's eyes made (Y/N)'s chest ache. Did he really think she was going to tell Hank right then and there that he had kissed her?

"Just shaken up," (Y/N) explained, feeling a lump bob in her throat. "I was expecting fire, not his tail. Charlie was great though and healed it for me. It hurt too much for me to make it down to Madam Rosetta." Her stomach twisted at the lie. Why did her life have to be this way?

Hank nudged Charlie in the shoulder with his knuckles as the trio turned back toward the village. "Good on ya, Weasley. Why don't we go grab a Butterbeer? To two look like you could use a good drink right about now while ya tell me about Aro. I'm sure Felix will be thrilled."

Food and drinks were the last thing on (Y/N)'s mind, but she went along with it. They told Hank about the Horntail's infected tooth, and (Y/N) managed to stomach half of a Butterbeer before the tension in the room was too much for her to handle.

"Where ya goin'?" Hank asked when she stood up from their picnic table.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up and fix my sweater," she said, taking a step back and jabbing her thumb towards her place. To (Y/N)'s surprise, Charlie looked more startled than relieved.

"Do you want any help?" 

(Y/N)'s head started spinning again as she tried to decipher what that meant. Was that code for let's sneak off and kiss again? Or for wanting to tell her to never mention what happened ever again? 

"Nope, I've got it," she reassured a bit too forcefully.

The concern in his eyes made it seem like that wasn't the answer he was hoping for, and that just made everything that much more confusing. She needed a moment alone to think. Her brain was about ready to explode.

"Just let us know if you need anything," Hank said, raising his glass to her.

Backing up towards her front porch, she forced one last smile and waved. "Yep. I'll catch up with you guys later."

She felt Charlie's eyes on her until the door closed behind her. Letting her back rest against the wood, she slid down to the floor and began racking her brain, finally letting panic sink in.

Why had he kissed her? Was it some sort of response to her being hurt? Was it something she had said? Most importantly, why did he look so regretful after he had done it? 

Maybe he hadn't enjoyed it. Maybe he thought he might feel something and didn't, and now he didn't know what to say. 

The kick to her gut was quickly remedied by the inappropriate reminder that at least one part of him had enjoyed the kiss. Goosebumps broke out across (Y/N)'s skin, and while she forced away thoughts of Charlie's body against hers, a lightbulb flicked on inside her head. The look in his eyes and the unanticipated hunger behind the kiss. He was only ever attracted to someone after they were friends, and she had been practically shirtless while they were crammed in a small space together. How could she be so oblivious? It was probably a purely hormonal response and now he was mortified. But (Y/N) couldn't blame him… eight years was a long time. She just wished that realization didn't make her heart feel so heavy.

Forcing herself to breathe, (Y/N) told herself she was being ridiculous. Whatever the reason, it wasn't a big deal. It was just a kiss. Sure, it may have been a mind-numbing explosion of one for her, but she could put it behind her. A relationship was the last thing she needed to worry about anyway. It was too dangerous. (Y/N) barely could afford to make friends, let alone date someone. She didn't want anyone to get hurt or into trouble because of her.

-

Charlie continued sitting across from Hank, barely able to take his eyes off (Y/N)'s door as the minutes ticked past. He was completely conflicted between staying glued to the picnic table all night and pounding on her door until she opened it.

"You two have been acting weird ever since you got back," Hank said, setting his Butterbeer down onto the table. "Everything okay?"

Charlie shook his head, drumming his fingers nervously on the table. "No, I'm an idiot."

"Oh, Lord. What'd ya do now?"

"I kissed her."

Hank straightened so abruptly he knocked his Butterbeer over, but the man hardly seemed to care. "You what?"

The redhead dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his temples and sighing. "I bloody kissed her."

"What the hell are you groaning about?" Hank boomed, slapping a hand against the table. "This is the best news I've heard all month!"

"No it's not. The walk back here was awkward as hell because we were interrupted before we had the chance to talk." Charlie shot his buddy a look, but Hank hardly looked apologetic.

"You could have told me to piss off."

"And say what? We're busy in here, come back later? I'm sure your reaction to that would have been real appropriate."

Hank rubbed his stubble to hide is grin, not even attempting to correct the redhead. "Well, did she kiss you back?"

Charlie averted his eyes, hating how easy it was to recall (Y/N)'s mouth on his- the way her hands gripped his t-shirt, the muffled gasp she had made into his mouth. He had never been kissed like that before, and he wanted to do it over and over again. He blew out a breath, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He had more self control as a bloody teenager. "That's not the point."

Hank grinned the biggest toothy smile that Charlie had ever seen from him. "That's one hundred and ten percent the point. I know she's into you- even if you are a total wanker." 

"She didn't say anything after." Or try to do it again, his subconscious added unhelpfully. "For all I know, she could've felt cornered."

Hank barked a laugh. "You're kidding, right? That wild thing could'a kicked your ass if she wanted to."

Deep down Charlie knew that was true, but he also knew that (Y/N) had a soft spot and just might not have wanted to hurt his feelings. Her quick dismissal of him offering to help reverberated in his head. "What if I've screwed everything up?"

"Here's a crazy idea- if you're so damn worried about it, why don't you try talking to her instead of me?"

Charlie narrowed his eyes at Hank despite knowing the forty-three year old was right. With a sigh, Charlie forced himself off the bench, slowly making his way to (Y/N)'s porch and praying he didn't mess up their friendship.

-

A knock on (Y/N)'s door made her freeze at the kitchen sink. After scouring through her books for that stupid spell, she managed to fix her sweater and was now rinsing out her tea mug. Her heart thumped nervously and she cleared her throat. "Come in." 

She fumbled with the mug as the door creaked open behind her and wondered what the odds of it being Hank or Scott were. Or Felix or Dave. Hell, she'd probably even take Sydney right now. Setting the cup in the sink, she turned around and her stomach plummeted. They apparently weren't good enough.

"Hey," Charlie said, shutting the door quietly. He could hardly look at her. His eyes flicked around the room, just barely jumping up to meet hers, and he hadn't moved past the first chair at the dining room table. He looked more uncomfortable than (Y/N) had ever seen and her heart cracked open in response. She didn't want him to feel that way. 

"Hey, what's up?" she asked with a smile, picking up a dish towel to dry off her hands. She could ignore the elephant in the room.

Charlie hesitated for a moment, but her tone must have resonated with him on some level because his stiff posture eased and he stepped a fraction closer. "Uh, are we- I mean are you… okay?"

She could see the concern in his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat in response. Even though he was clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed, he was asking if she was okay. How could she not be head over heels for him? 

"Yeah, of course," she answered, taking the time to fold the towel and set it neatly on the counter before turning back to face him. She hoped her casual tone said, Why wouldn't I be?

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the soft red strands away from his face, and a horrible thought entered (Y/N)'s brain before she could stop it: Why hadn't she done that? 

The thought of touching Charlie's hair as they kissed left (Y/N)'s face flaming with embarrassment. Averting her eyes only made the situation worse, however, because she realized she was still wearing his shirt. She had changed into leggings in place of her jeans but didn't take off his damn shirt. He was going to think she was mental. 

Charlie took another step forward, now leaving only two dining chairs left between them. "Look, about earlier…" 

"You don't have to do this," she interrupted, glancing at him again. "It really isn't a big deal. We can pretend it never happened if that's what you want." 

Charlie stared at her for a long moment, and (Y/N) watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "What if I don't want that?"

Chills scattered down (Y/N)'s entire body and she gripped the chair in front of her for support. She couldn't have heard him right. This was the off-limits dragon lover that had been single for years. She must've misheard him. "What?" Her voice was as unstable as her legs were. 

"Look, I know I'm not good at this," he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "In fact, I'm probably just about as rubbish as you can get. But I fancy you, (Y/N). A lot."

(Y/N)'s lips parted and the wild pulse in her throat was nearly all she could concentrate on. She tried to speak, but his words made her head dizzy and mouth dry. Ginny was right? He… he liked her too?

Charlie's face was beat red now as he took one final step forward. "And I was wondering if… if we could be more than just friends."

(Y/N) tried to calm her rampant heartbeat, and it wasn't until Charlie cleared his throat that she realized how long she had merely been staring at him, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Charlie looked down at the floorboards beneath his feet, his expression turning stony. "But I completely understand if you don't think of me in that way. Or if my… lack of dating experience is-"

(Y/N) surged forward before he had a chance to finish that ridiculous sentence, wrapping her hands behind his neck and crashing her mouth against his. Charlie stumbled a little to catch his balance, letting out a raspy breath before his arm slid around her waist and he kissed her back, sending (Y/N)'s heart into overdrive. He pulled her closer and she tangled her fingers into his hair like she wanted to earlier, feeling like her whole world was complete. 

Their fevered kisses faded down to delicate and when they slowly pulled back for air, (Y/N) could feel Charlie's warm, ragged breath on her lips. "Is that a yes?"

Reality struck (Y/N) like an earthquake as her promise to Ginny echoed inside her head. Easing down from her tiptoes, she rubbed her face, feeling the overwhelming bliss diminishing inside her. "Shit. I- I don't know." 

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked, his brown eyes searching hers. "Is it the team? I'll make sure Hank keeps his comments to himself if that's what you're worried about."

(Y/N) shook her head. "It's not that. I just- I don't think it would be fair to you." The words cut her to the core. Life had never been this cruel to her.

Charlie didn't look angry or annoyed- he looked concerned. "Why not?"

She turned away from his gorgeous face, ashamed, heartbroken, and angry. "Charlie… There are things you don't know about me. Things you can't know."

He seemed to consider this. "Does this have to do with why you've moved around so much?"

She nodded, biting down on her lower lip.

"Why can't you tell me?"

Despite her trust issues, a part of her knew that wasn't it. As much as (Y/N) tried to fight it, as much as her past experiences told her not to, she really did trust the redhead every bit as much as Penny, Barnaby, Rowan and Jae. "It's too dangerous."

The corner of his mouth twitched the slightest bit. "More dangerous than being a Dragonologist?"

She nodded, trying to convince herself more so than the redhead. She knew him too well to think danger would scare him away.

He was now in front of her, the tips of their boots nearly touching. "What if I care about you more than my safety?"

Her nerve endings crackled like static, and it took every ounce of her self control not to touch him. "I- I refuse to put you or your family at risk. I just can't." Her lip trembled at the mere thought. She couldn't handle being responsible for anyone getting in trouble because of her. Charlie's dad worked for the Ministry for Merlin's sake. He could lose his job.

"Did you do something bad?" Charlie asked.

(Y/N)'s heart weighed down with heaviness as she considered how to answer. "People think I did," she finally whispered.

"But did you?"

She shook her head, blinking away the tears gathering in her eyes. She hoped to Merlin that he believed her. She didn't know what she would do if he didn't.

“Ah." He nodded slowly. "I think I’m starting to piece together the whole Sirius Black obsession.”

That made (Y/N) laugh- a pathetic, hollow laugh that caught in the back of her throat. “Pretty stupid, right? It’s not like that story has even a remotely happy ending.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress all the conflicting emotions she felt. “Don’t you get it? There’s no happy ending for me. There’s no case for my innocence, I’m just a fugitive to catch. They may come after me again, and if you know what happened, they’ll say you were involved in it. I can’t have that on my conscious.”

"There’s one thing you’re not accounting for," he said, leaning his face closer to hers.

(Y/N) glanced up at him, but her voice was still overruled by defeat. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

Charlie smiled, clearly accepting the challenge. “You probably picked the only career where we could care less what the Ministry thinks.”

“They’re our government, Charlie. You really expect me to believe wizards here don’t care about the Ministry of Magic?” 

He looked genuinely surprised by her response, as if he expected her to know better. “Do you know why reserves like this even exist?” 

She waited for him to answer, sensing the question was rhetorical, and the frown forming on Charlie’s face told (Y/N) the subject made him upset.

“It’s because wizards like Newt Scamander stuck up for the safety and preservation of all creatures, even the XXXXX category. In the Ministry’s eyes, dragon’s are probably the largest nuisance in the wizarding world. They’re massive, loud, and lethal. Bloody terrible to conceal from muggles and untamable. If they had it their way, most of these creatures would likely be killed and sold for parts.” 

An unpleasant knot yanked on (Y/N)’s heartstrings at the thought of losing any of these dragons. “No… they wouldn’t do that. I mean sure, maybe decades ago when we didn’t know as much, but they have to feel differently now, right?”

“Some of them do, sure,” Charlie conceded. “But we still get hassled about our work when they visit. Some badger us about our numbers, demanding if we really need this many. Some suggest expediting mother nature when one falls ill or grows old. Like I said- to them, dragons are a headache. They make up a large portion of what makes their lives miserable when an accident happens and they have to repair the damage.” He leaned his forehead against hers and brought a hand up to stroke her cheek. "So would you stop worrying about protecting me? Because I don't really give a damn what the Ministry thinks and I'd really like to kiss you again."

And just like that, (Y/N)'s entire resolve crumpled, and she kissed Charlie Weasley like her life depended on it.