#you know that trend where kids sit during classes and inch by inch start moving their desk to the door checking if they can escape the class

[prlssprfctn]

Desperately need petty Alfred, whose form of bullying Bruce for something is, like, moving all furniture in the cave on one inch. Just one. A barely noticeable difference, and yet, it is m a d d e n i n g.

Bruce, blindly trying to reach for the pen as he realises that they are slightly, slightly lefter than usual: (Slow processing)

Bruce, raising his head to the celling, desperate : ...What did I do this time?!

Jason, who was adopted recently, confused: Is he... talking to God?

Dick, snorting: Something like this.

Dick: So, there is a thing... When Alfred is mad—

Many years later, Bruce and Tim return to the Batcave and realise that all stuff there is moved on one inch. Bruce is confused, because he is very, very sure that he didn't fuck up anything recently. Meanwhile, Alfred is just glad that his newly brought back alive grandson found a very healthy way to punish his father for not killing Joker.

[hansolmates]

junhui; you must be magical, because i've fallen under your spell

summary; there was something about gryffindors that unsettled him greatly.

pairing; slytherin!junhui x gryffindor fem!reader 

genre/warnings: hp!au, yule ball!au, fluff!! jun’s a dumb boy

w/c; 2k

a/n; if it were possible to separate the masterpiece that is harry potter and jk rowling, we would. the only jk we stan in jeon jungkook but anyway!! this fic has been sitting in my drive for 3!! years!!! enjoy this belated bday present to our favorite golden bean. enjoy! please share if you like it 

more in the SVT!hogwarts au: vernon, mingyu, jihoon 

“No.”

“C’mon. Just be my partner, it’ll be totally wicked. We’re the best dancers on the team. We can even break heteronormativity if you wanna put it that way.” 

“That’s not the point.” Minghao grumbled, throwing his dirty practice gear over his shoulder. “We told you to find a partner before the next practice. All you’ve done is complain to me about how awful everyone else is. Is there really not one girl or boy in Slytherin that you can partner up with?” 

Junhui’s bark eyes glazed lazily over the pitch, as if there would be random students just lying around during early morning practice. The weather was definitively awful today, with depressingly muted grey clouds and no trace of the sun ever grazing its presence on campus. He rocked his bat back and forth, letting it bounce on his thigh as they exited the field and neared the viaduct. “There really isn’t,” he drolled, looking disinterested, “I hate all of them.” 

“Awh c’mon, you really don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do. They’re awful.”

“But—”

“No. Please stop trying.” 

Minghao took an abrupt turn at the end of the cobblestoned viaduct, in the team room where most of the members were off to their own devices. Team Hogwarts was doing relatively well in terms of team relationships, so far there were no petty fights over house competition because their school pride against other schools was currently taking precedence. Junhui was being petty, he knew it. But his pride was his mantle, and if that couldn’t hold him together, he might as well crash and burn down the pitch. 

Minghao started to grumble unintelligibly under his breath, ripping off his blazer and shoving it to one side of his training bag. He looked visibly angry, and Junhui could understand that. Being on Team Hogwarts was stressful enough, and having a friend like him who was heatedly intolerable was just icing on the cake. 

“I know someone who can be your partner,” Minghao finally said, looking away, “She can pick up dances quickly. But you gotta promise me you’ll be nice to her.” 

“Me? Nice? I’m the nicest person you could possibly meet.” Junhui replied loftily, giving a lazy smirk as he relaxed against the bench. “I’ll treat her like a princess if she’s as good as a dancer as you claim she is.” 

“Even if she’s a Gryffindor?” 

“Even if she’s a—” his jaw dropped, and he sat straight, his aloof facade shattered just enough for him to sputter out of control. His beater’s bat slipped like butter from his grasp, causing it to echo throughout the room and multiple members to look at the pair strangely. He ignored all of them like a grain of sand. “Seriously? A Gryffindor?”

“I’m a Gryffindor. What are you trying to say?” 

“I’m saying. It’s fine if pretty boy Chwe wants to go prance around with his stuffy bookworm, that’s expected. But when was the last time you saw a Gryffindor and Slytherin kill it on the dancefloor?” 

“I’m taking a Gryffindor,” Jihoon said levelly, looking over them from the side of the bench. His posture was slumped, his hair windswept and his cheeks kissed with a strawberry red from the nippy weather. He was already in his school robes, tucking in the collar of his emerald knit so it would settle nicely. Running a hand through his sandy locks, he brushed up to them, taking no shame into walking into their conversation. 

Jihoon had a tendency to flit in and out whenever he pleased, and for whatever reason people still liked Jihoon, something that irked Junhui incessantly. But he never dared to ask, considering Jihoon’s own brand of confidence was something to be desired. “But I also like this person a lot, I don’t care that she’s a Gryffindor. So just swallow your pride and be lucky that someone is willing to help you out, especially last minute.”

“Well,” Minghao looked away sheepishly, trying to save face, “she hasn’t exactly said yes yet. I haven’t even asked her, but there’s no reason why she wouldn’t say no.” 

“Alright. Hopefully she says yes then.” Junhui finally said, giving Minghao a small smile. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving a firm squeeze. “Thank you.” 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jihoon give an inkling of a grin, before turning around and walking back. 

“Thank you for giving people a chance.” Minghao replied genuinely, squeezing Junhui’s shoulders once before changing into his own robes. 

Junhui was nervous. He was nervous and shy and worried that this was going to all be messed up and risk getting kicked off the team. Minghao told him once they entered the practice room, the Great Hall, that his partner would be a little late. It was understandable, it was a last minute thing and he could totally fault himself for that. 

He had to play it cool, he had to. He already brought himself thus far, making it onto the team, and playing it off like it was no big deal. But it was work, all of it. Even the little things like this, dancing some five minute routine for the entire campus to see. There was nothing else he could hold onto at this point, everyone else was partnered up in the room (except Mingyu Kim, but no one else seemed to notice since he was never around) and now he was just left to fidget until you showed up. 

“Where’s your partner, Junhui?” Soonyoung walked up to him, all up in his face, and Junhui fought the urge to push the co-captain back. Soonyoung was wearing Muggle athletic wear, the one with the strangely thin fabric and pants that were too loose at the top and fitted at the bottom. What did Soonyoung think they were, a Muggle boy band? “We’re about to start.” 

“Oh well, she's—”

“Here! Sorry I'm late!” your voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, padding down the linoleum like wildfire. You, a young lady in gold and red dropped her things on one of the dining tables, and surprise surprise, you were dressed exactly like Soonyoung. Your body was a blur as you ripped off your robes, revealing a complete and utter lack of clothing that had Junhui’s gaze burn scarlet. Tight black shorts that ribboned across your thighs, and a white athletic t-shirt that had the same silky material as the Gryffindor captain. 

Soonyoung’s face lit up like the morning sun, his face comparable to diamonds as you bounded  up next to him. He made a show of it, putting his thumb and forefinger together as if he were taking a photograph of the pair. “Wait, seriously?” he balked, and Junhui grew annoyed at how delighted the hyper kid was being. “Oh Junhui you have the best partner.” 

Junhui scrunched his nose, uncomfortable that Soonyoung wanted to be all chummy now that he was doing the right thing. Biting the inside of his lip, he turned to you, who offered him a small smile and an outstretch of a hand. 

He blinked. Oh, you’re gorgeous. 

And when he took her hand and gave a firm squeeze in reply, he could’ve sworn he felt you. That strange, red crackling fire that so many of them seemed to emanate like it was the newest trend, but it was all-encompassing and so definitively you, that he hated to admit he was aching for more. “I’m Junhui Wen.” he drawled, tilting his head to meet his cocoa eyes to yours. 

“I know who you are,” you replied immediately, the subtle jab in your tone pinning him to the floor like it was a glass stake. There was an energy in your gaze, the curious light that was making Junhui spellbound. “We have a bunch of classes together. Divination? Alchemy? Muggle Studies?” 

He could only stare at you, struck. His smirk from ten seconds ago descended in a downward spiral, realizing that wow, he had no comeback for that. It was downright a sin not to notice you all this time, and you were rightfully calling him out on it. Points to the Gryffindor, indeed. 

Gryffindor’s always intimidated him, a secret only a select few has picked up on. His parents were good people, always telling him that confidence is key and he should strive to be more like them. So, he tried. He’s cocky, for sure. A little shit? Definitely. But it’s different when righteousness slaps in the face, a reminder that there’s goodness in his heart and a strive to do better. 

Thankfully (the first and last time Junhui would ever be thankful to Soonyoung) practice had already started and you were late. He felt the grip of your small palm, and you smack his hand to your waist. Is it bad how much he thought how perfect it felt? How he wanted to hold you in his arms forever—

“At this rate,” you cut dryly, voice loud enough for only you two to hear, “we’ll be a centerpiece because you’re not moving a damn inch. Merlin, do you need me to lead?” 

“Oh,” it’s only then Junhui realized that his friends were dancing circles around them, and he’s messed up the formation, “sorry.” 

You two finally step into the piece, thankful that Junhui had quick reflexes. To his chagrin, you’re not too bad yourself. Despite the lightning on your tongue, you held yourself with grace, following him across the floor as if you were floating. Soonyoung was right, he did snatch up the best partner. He owes Minghao a barrel of butterbeer. 

“Hey,” you hummed, voice blending wonderfully between the enchanted piano. “Minghao told me a little about you.”

“All good things, I’m hoping.” 

You snorted, tilting your head so it brushed against his robes. “Maybe. Said that Gryffindors make you nervous.” 

He scoffed, “No, that’s not true.” 

“So, I don’t make you nervous?” 

Whether Junhui said yes or no, he knew that both answers would be wrong. He could tell how much you knew, how easy it was to rile him up. Sweat was clinging to his palms, probably hot and sticky against your thin muggle t-shirt that clings deliciously to your waist (he takes it back, he takes it back! Muggle clothing is wonderful.)

“Whatever you’re trying to do,” he murmured, leaning over your form as he lets your body relax in a dip, “it’s not gonna work.”

Instead of entertaining his sudden accusation, you grabbed his robes, pulling him even closer even though the music stopped and people are listening to Soonyoung’s instructions for next class. “Where will you be picking me up?” 

“What?” 

“For the Yule ball. Jihoon is picking his date in front of our common room. You should come too.” 

“Uh,” he completely forgot that having you as a dance partner coincided with the possibility of you being his date for the ball. He had the opportunity to be in your company for one whole night. Terror spiked in his form, because he realized that he couldn’t mess up this chance. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” he says, and you seem satisfied by his definitive answer. 

You’re still playing with the hem of his robes, tracing your fingers along the Slytherin emblem. There’s no snark, no playful banter like you were expecting when Minghao prepared you for this. You’ll have fun with him. 

“I’ll be wearing emerald, so you should think of matching my robes with yours,” and you smirk at him, tilting your head, “good thing I already know how handsome you look in green, Junnie.” 

The last of his resolve crumbled like a piss-poor treacle tart. 

Junhui’s besotted, attracted by your boldness and craving for more of your attention. The rest of your words were hazy, like he was swimming in the Gillyweed lagoon. Something about how he better not freeze up like he did before, otherwise he’d be hexed like the girl in The Red Shoes. Something about how you’re looking forward to seeing him. He’s drowned, unable to form a coherent reply when a friend comes from behind to snatch you up. They forced you to pack up so you’d get first dibs on tonight’s dinner.  

You send him a wink before you’re forced out the door, and all he could do was wave dumbly. 

“Knew you’d like her,” Minghao slid up to Junhui, punching him in the shoulder. The pain didn’t even register as Minghao continues to tease him, going so far as to pinch his golden skin. “Merlin, do you have a crush already?” he giggled, trying to shake the taller one back to reality. 

No, Junhui was bewitched.

[jcionlittle]

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[onewfantaesy]

Uncle yunho au!!!! I LOVEEEEEEEE!! do you have more to this?? it's so angsty and good 😭😭

Taemin had PTSD. 

At least, Kibum was pretty sure that was what was the matter with him. It would have been a miracle if he was only physically injured, Kibum thought, and it made sense that he wouldn’t be completely fine after just a little more than a week. The fact that Taemin was showing up to school at all was amazing, Kibum thought.

The first time Kibum realized something was wrong with Taemin, though, was when a senior office assistant during fifth period knocked on the door three-times-fast when he came to drop off an office summons for someone in the class.

Taemin flinched so hard at the noise that he broke his colored pencil in half. He pretended that nothing happened, that everything was normal and he hadn’t just scraped his chair back half-a-foot and jumped at least three inches off his seat. Everyone turned to look, though, and Kibum almost felt like his own heart was beating just as fast as Taemin’s probably was.

“Hey, asshole,” Kibum hissed at him. “Gimme the green, stop hogging it.”

Taemin turned his eyes up towards him, and he looked like he was about to nod before he narrowed his eyes and hissed back, “Not unless you give me the blue back, dick.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kibum huffed, and he tossed the blue colored pencil across the table and held his hand out for the green one.

Everyone else turned back to what they were doing, and Kibum was surprised that their teacher didn’t come over and check on Taemin. Maybe Mr. Jung had said something about how all the coddling made Taemin so uncomfortable. 

Sneaking a glance back at Taemin, Kibum noticed his eyes were shut tight and his hand wasn’t moving to continue coloring his dumb ice dragon. He was taking quick, shallow breaths, and Kibum didn’t know what to do. He tried to think quickly, tried to figure out what he could do to make Taemin feel something at least sort of close to normal.

“Taemin,” he hissed after he made sure their teacher wasn’t looking. “Hey, Taemin!”

Taemin cracked open his eyes and looked at Kibum with the nastiest expression Kibum had ever seen.

“Do you have any gummy worms?” Kibum whispered.

“Gummy worms,” Taemin whispered back, shaking his head. “No. Vending machine was out. Got Starbursts instead.”

“Shit, dude, can I have one?” 

Taemin paused for a moment, but he nodded his head and took a deep breath before reaching down for his backpack. He pulled out his package of Starbursts, ripped it open, and flicked three red ones across the table.

“You can have the gross ones,” Taemin muttered, popping a pink one into his mouth.

Kibum wasn’t sure if what he was doing was actually helping or not, but it seemed to help Taemin calm down just a little bit. He still had a death grip on his colored pencil, but his hands were shaking so bad and he wasn’t breathing all weird anymore.

Besides, people treating Taemin like he was going to break at the littlest thing just seemed to make him even angrier.

A week later, Kibum glanced towards Taemin’s lunch table and saw the sophomore hunched over the table with the fingers of his good hand tugging at the hair hanging over the back of his neck. He looked worse than he usually did, and his friends started to crowd around him.

Taemin untangled his fingers from his hair and waved them away, and he got up to stumble over towards the bathrooms.

When Kibum tried to figure out what was wrong with him, he saw a group of freshmen girls sitting at the table across from Taemin’s with those patterned duct tapes. They were trying to decorate their backpacks with it, and Kibum couldn’t understand why that was even a trend in the first place, let alone why they had to do it at school. The image of Taemin’s arms and legs duct-taped together from the news footage played over and over in Kibum’s head, and he was standing up and hurrying over towards him before he even knew what he was doing.

“Get Mr. Jung,” Kibum croaked out, and he ran over to where Taemin had sat down on the floor leaning up against one of the concrete pillars that held up the second floor.

“Hey! Hey, Taemin,” Kibum called as he knelt down in front of the sophomore, and he snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Hey, asshole, can you hear me?”

Taemin’s eyes were squeezed shut, and he was breathing all weird. It was like what happened in art class the week before, except ten times worse, and Taemin wasn’t snapping out of it.

“Taemin? Hey, Taemin!”

Mr. Jung came hurrying over, and he took Kibum’s place in front of Taemin and waved away the few other students and teachers who had come to see what was going on.

“Taemin?” Mr. Jung whispered. “Taeminnie, what happened?”

“I think he heard duct tape being ripped,” Kibum said quietly. “There were freshmen by his table decorating their backpacks with it.”

“Taeminnie,” Mr. Jung said softly, holding onto Taemin’s arm. “Taeminnie, buddy, it’s Uncle Yunho. You’re okay.”

Taemin shook his head, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Uncle Yunho,” Taemin choked out, not opening his eyes.

“Yeah, buddy,” Mr. Jung said, one of his hands holding onto Taemin’s good hand. “It’s fine. You’re okay, I promise.”

“I can’t breathe,” Taemin cried. “I can’t - I can’t -”

“Yes you can,” Yunho told him, and he moved to hold Taemin’s head close to his chest. “Yes you can, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Taemin asked in a strangled voice.

Mr. Jung shooed everyone away, and Kibum watched from afar as he held Taemin close to him and whispered things in his ear.

Kibum’s chest felt tight when Taemin’s chair was empty during fifth period. Jinki told them Mr. Jung wasn’t there for sixth period, and he said that he had heard that Mr. Jung took Taemin home after his panic attack at lunch.

Kibum hoped that no one would give Taemin shit for having a panic attack at school. 

When Taemin came back the next day, he looked pissed that everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells around him. 

So Kibum did what he always did; he called Taemin an asshole for hoarding the good art supplies and asked him if he had any gummy worms. Taemin looked like he appreciated it, and he didn’t even say anything when Kibum accidentally grabbed one of the blue gummy worms instead of just the red ones.

A couple weeks after that, Kibum was confused when he glanced out his bedroom window and saw Mr. Jung and Taemin get out of the car that just parked in front of the house across the street. Jaejoong had been Kibum’s neighbor for as long as he could remember, but he didn’t know that Jaejoong knew Mr. Jung and Taemin. Kibum stayed in his bedroom, and he continued to stare out the window while Jaejoong came outside to help pull a couple bags out from the trunk of Mr. Jung’s car. 

Even from across the street, Kibum could tell Taemin was annoyed. He shrugged off the hand Jaejoong tried to put on his shoulder, and he stayed next to the car until the two men started walking towards the house. When Jaejoong came out to get the last of the bags from the trunk, Kibum saw his dad walk over across the street.

Kibum shook his head and held his head in his hands. His dad always had to find out what was going on around the neighborhood, and it was embarrassing.

When his dad came back, Kibum heard him talking to his mom about how “Jaejoong’s partner and his nephew are moving in with him. It’s that boy Kibum goes to school with; the one who was kidnapped a couple weeks ago.”

“This doesn’t seem like an appropriate time for them to be moving the poor boy around so much,” Kibum’s mom said.

His dad’s voice got low, but Kibum could still hear him whisper, “He said he was having nightmares at the other house, that he wasn’t sleeping. They’re hoping that him being away from where it happened will help him out a bit.”

Kibum heard his mom get upset, but he also heard her say she was going to make cookies to take over to them. Kibum just sighed and went back to texting Minho about which movie theater they were going to meet Jonghyun and Jinki at later that night.

When Kibum trudged out of his bedroom the next morning, his mom told him that Jaejoong and his family were going to come over for dinner that evening.

“Since when does Jaejoong have a family?” Kibum asked, reaching at the top of the cupboard for the cereal.

“His partner, I think his name is Yunho, he adopted his nephew and they just moved in with Jaejoong,” his mom said. “I think you go to school with him, actually.”

“Oh,” Kibum muttered.

“A few of the other neighbors are coming as well, to meet them,” his mom said. “Dad’s going to barbecue.”

“Sounds fun,” Kibum said. “Does this mean I can’t go to the mall with Minho and the others later?”

“It’s Sunday, Kibum,” his mom reminded him. “You know you’re not allowed to stay out late on Sundays anyway.”

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Kibum mumbled.

“It’s just one afternoon,” she said softly. “And you’re the only other kid on the block. I’m sure he’ll be glad to have someone else around his age here tonight.”

“Okay,” Kibum said.

When Jaejoong led Mr. Jung and Taemin through the side gate to Kibum’s backyard later that afternoon, Taemin looked annoyed when he saw Kibum sitting at one of the tables.

“Oh you gotta be kidding me,” Taemin muttered, but Mr. Jung put his hand on Taemin’s back and whispered for him to be nice.

“Hey Taemin,” Kibum greeted him, a smirk on his face. “Got any gummy worms?”

“I don’t exactly carry them on me at all times, no,” Taemin told him, a sarcastic smirk on his face.

“Taemin, what does that mean?” Mr. Jung asked him.

“Nothing,” Taemin said quickly, and Kibum snorted.

“So you two know each other?” Kibum’s mom asked, a smile on her face.

“We have art together,” Kibum said before turning back to Taemin. “C’mere, I’ll show you my dogs.”

“You have dogs?” Taemin asked, his face lighting up, and he hobbled over to Kibum as fast as he could.

Taemin and Kibum ended up sitting by the grass, Kibum’s two dogs running around Taemin and sniffing and licking him and barking. Kibum thought it was pretty funny to see Taemin so happy just because of two little dogs, but he scoffed when Taemin told him his dogs’ names were stupid. Taemin just smirked and snickered as he held Commedes close to him.

“Uncle Yunho! Uncle Yunho,” Taemin called when Commedes and Garcons both knocked Taemin onto the grass, and he laughed the entire time they licked his face. “Uncle Yunho, look! Don’t you think I deserve like at least one puppy? Look at them, they love me!”

“I told you we’d think about it, Taemin,” Mr. Jung laughed as he came over and scratched behind Garcons’ ears.

“But you know, if you do get me on, you should really get me two,” Taemin tried to tell him. “Because imagine how lonely just one would be? You really need to get me two whole puppies.”

“We’ll think about it, Taemin,” Mr. Jung told him, and he went back to sit with Jaejoong.

“How’d you convince your parents to get you dogs?” Taemin hissed at Kibum when Mr. Jung left.

“I don’t know, I just asked for them,” Kibum said with a shrug.

“Sonuvabitch,” Taemin muttered under his breath. “Uncle Yunho’s a hardass sometimes, he’s not gonna just give in.”

Kibum just snorted and pulled Commedes into his lap.

“Can I just steal your dogs for a little bit?” Taemin joked. “They like me.”

“I’m not giving you my dogs, asshole,” Kibum scoffed. “But you can come over and play with them if you want. Sometimes.”

“Sweet,” Taemin hissed, making kissy noises in Garcons’ face and rubbing behind his ears.

Kibum started seeing a whole lot more of Taemin after that, but he found that he didn’t really mind the obnoxious little asshole hanging around his house so much. He was a whole lot less obnoxious when he was playing with the dogs.