#‘idiot wizard’ is just like… not a thing. wizards have high intelligence

[jerreeeeeee]

taako starts off with the stats of the pre-rolled elf wizard from lost mines of phandelver, with the highest stat being intelligence with a +3 modifier, and worst stat being charisma with a -1. which makes it all the funnier that justins first character decision for him is “he’s stupid”

[sailtomarina]

Your Royal Highness

“DRACO!”

“What!?”

“DID YOU FEED CROOKSHANKS?”

He ran a hand across his stubbled jaw as he considered the behemoth cat glaring right back at him, yellow eyes narrowed in a squashed orange face. The food in the bowl between them sat untouched despite him having poured it out more than 10 minutes prior.

“I did, but he won’t eat it!”

Hermione rounded the corner into the kitchen in her smart dress suit, all tight fabric and curves. He reached out a hand for a grab that was easily swatted aside.

“That’s because you only gave him his dry kibble. You need to add some of the food in the fridge.”

As she whisked away the bowl, Draco leveled his best side eye at her familiar. The bastard sat there licking his paws without a care in the world, as if he was owed only what the best money had to offer. Which was ridiculous, really, because Draco actually knew everything that money could buy and that smug creature did not deserve it.

“Here, see? You need to use this amount and evenly mix it in.” She handed him back the cat dish before pecking him on the cheek, squeezing his bum (the hypocrite), and rushing to the Floo. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight!”

Draco turned to face off once more with his furry nemesis. “Here you go, your Royal Highness, Crookshanks of the Flat Face, Lord of the Hidden Cottage, Half-blood Kneazle King, and My Worst Enemy.”

He dropped the dish onto the counter and yanked his hand away just before the beast swiped it with claws fully extended.

“You better believe I’m grabbing me some witch arse tonight, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Draco really should have felt ashamed at taunting Hermione’s familiar; he was only a cat, after all. There were times where he swore the animal was smarter than some humans, including those two idiot sidekicks of hers. If there was one thing he was thankful for, it was that Crookshanks seemed to hate them even more than he hated Draco. Oddly enough, the cat seemed to only like his mother, and every time she visited he perched himself on Narcissa’s lap in the perfect picture of royalty, a queen and her pet.

His musing over a fresh cup of coffee screeched to a halt at the strange wetness that suddenly formed over his foot. “Oi!”

Crookshanks was nowhere to be seen, but a bloodied mouse rested next to his big toe where it had rolled, leaving a red streak across his sock. Draco knew enough about cats to realize that this was the beast’s response to his previous statement—Crookshanks didn’t just act without reason. Either this was a declaration of distrust in Draco’s ability to provide for his witch, or a sign of acceptance in the wizard’s continued presence in their lives. Or, perhaps it was both.

He muttered a stasis charm and bagged the rodent to bring over to the Potters’ next time they visited. Their boys had a pet snake that always appreciated Crookshanks’ hunts. He then sent his cup and the familiar’s food bowl to clean in the sink while he grabbed his briefcase and made his way towards Hogwarts for the first round of classes.

Crookshanks really was lucky to have offered that mouse today, because Draco had half a mind to see what kind of potions could be made from a kneazle, particularly one as intelligent as this one. He was fairly certain Hermione would forgive him depending on the outcome.

Maybe tomorrow.

WC 596

[honeybee2807]

I absolutely adore Albus but sometimes....

Like srsly, one thing I noticed back when I was a nerdy, snobby(who regarded people with average intelligence as not important[I was annoying, I know!!! Also, I had very high standards on who was considered to be smart, so basically everyone was dumb to me]) 13-year old, was that despite what everyone seemed to say, Albus was so fricking smart. Like his creativity has no bounds! That blanket plan was genius! I don't think anyone would've thought of that idea. When he was standing on the roof of a moving train, he was planning on where to land, which charms to use, etc. ON A MOVING TRAIN!!! The dude decided to humiliate Cedric Diggory to make him give up and stay alive and even though that had huge consequences(aka Voldemort Day), that still worked. Albus seemed to understand the mentality that people tend to have and used it to his advantage. If the consequences weren't so dire, I would've been impressed. And also the plan that the adults used to defeat Delphi was a variation of Albus' og plan and they were highly clueless before Albus told his plan. He was an incredibly determined boy who wouldn't let any setback stop him(first time the time-travel went wrong and he still wanted to do it for the second time[I wish I had his confidence]) and he was highly ambitious.

Idc what anyone says, this dude was a success story in the making! Sure his magic wasn't the best(though I'm pretty sure it was because of his low self-esteem), but he had the qualities that a successful person might have.

Yet, (deep breath)....

Dude decided to use all that qualities on a dangerous time-travel adventure!!! Talk about priorities. All because he wanted to impress his dad! Like c'mon Albus, there are better ways to impress your dad and you are absolutely capable of it. Now that I think of it, his determination needs to tone down. Like his cousins got deleted out of existence and that did not stop him from his kinda idiotic goal. The second time I read the book, I was literally screaming at him, "ALBUS, NO!". I swear he's so smart yet he's such an idiot at the same time and I don't know how he managed to be like that.

And Albus had some seriously low confidence on his abilities. He has some amazing abilities! Just because you are horrid at magic doesn't mean that you are a failure! All he needs is a bit of confidence, a positive environment(f the bullies) and a nudge in the right direction(because god forbid that he has proper priorities), then he'd be successful and way better than those bullies of his!

Now I think of it, I kinda understand the frustration teachers must feel when they see a talented kid not utilising their skills. Like I know people should follow their passions and all, but you gotta admit, time-travelling to the past? After their cousins have been deleted out of existence??? My snobbishness have toned down over the years but my frustration over this still hasn't. Albus just needs to believe in himself! He doesn't have to embark on a life-threatening adventure to impress his dad!

P.S. - When I realized later that family counseling was a thing, I grew even more frustrated. There's a good chance that all of Albus' and Harry's issues would've been solved with counseling. Why the time-traveling? The blanket scene was a huge indicator that they needed help. But now I realised that wizards probably don't have services like this and, the story wouldn't have been that interesting(especially since it was meant to be watched). But that doesn't stop me from feeling annoyed that the characters could have skipped the manipulation by evil witch and other dangerous stuff and went through the safe route.

[singularsoldier]

Always feels weird writing Soldier bc i never know just what level of crazy to give him?? I don’t want the kind where he’s incapable of taking care of himself, but I also don’t want to erase the fact that he’s literally batshit insane. Anyways, here’s a character analysis of what I think he can do

-Cooking: anything that can be made in bulk. Stews, porridge, whatever can feed a big group of men with minimal effort and supplies. Otherwise, he gets take out or eats from a can

-hygiene: five minute shower on cold maybe once a week. Brushes his teeth for exactly one minute with military grade (aka cheap) toothpaste. Basing this on what an actual soldier in tf2 would deal with. Laundry is a bucket of soapy water, rinsed, and hung to dry.

-cleanliness: a shit show. At most I’d say he makes his bed military style. Now, he absolutely can do chores, but they have to be given by a higher up. Mopping, wiping things down, basics like that. Otherwise, as seen in the comics, its a free for all.

-Reading/writing: this is a toss up bc in one comic he wrote signs (although there was a spelling mistake on both) but otherwise??? Feels wrong calling him fully illiterate but at the same time this man can’t write a cohesive paragraph to save his life. Soldier can probably manage a few simple sentences (with no punctuation + some spelling mistakes) but nothing past that.

-Strategy skills: as seen in the comics, his plan is god awful but the idea was there. I’d say he’s the type to just destroy everything in sight. He’s definitely on the “takes orders” side of the scale. Probably has gone against plans a few times, but otherwise follows them bc that’s What A Soldier Has To Do.

-Law: The comics say he got his law degree from a wizard (probably Merasmus?) so he probably isn’t very good. The thing is with Scout and Spy, he absolutely SUCKED defending them. However, when the Mann Bros ghosts came to him, he very rationally explained why their souls were trapped and what that meant for the gravel pit. He was pretty clear in the fact that the dispute would continue until one of them moved to the afterlife.

-Overall intelligence: not…much. Most say his history lesson in Meet the Soldier is insanely wrong, but we have to take into account that this is the tf2 universe. You know, where wizards exist and have annual conventions. His whole monologue could have very much been 100% accurate. I’ll throw him a bone and say his historical intelligence is fairly high, but everything else is subpar.

-Misc: he can make a tourniquet, which takes practice. He’s also a priest, which isn’t given an explanation as far as I’m aware. Could be wizards, could be Soldier actually studying to become a priest. Who knows.

Soldier is by definition a wild card. You think he’s an insane idiot, but then he wraps Zhanna’s wound and demonstrates a solid understanding in land disputes. He also knew the exact military protocol for interrogations (despite accidentally leaking intel). I think as long as you get the basics, he’s almost impossible to misinterpret? All of this is just my hc/understanding/whatever you wanna call this. You’re free to think of Soldier however you want.

[apolloanddaphnis]

Poppies in October

Part II

Disclaimer: SELF HARM, Scenes of a sexual nature. NOT PROOFREAD!

Pairings: Regulily, Jegulus, Xenodora kind of the beginning...

__________________________________________

(Regulus POV)

I can't stand the uncertain, the unpredictable, I'm a practical wizard and always have been. So why did I spend the next morning charming the head of my house into replacing my arithmancy elective with bloody Divination? Why was I waiting to have a partner assigned to do my chart?

Lily Evans might have something to do with that.

I sat at the round, celestial cloth table behind her.  The back of her neck was deliciously visible due to her prettily bobbed, deep scarlet waves. They looked full and fluffy and daring, I always preferred short hair when I was into girls. Not that she wasn't very pretty when it was long, but she became coquettishly sexy when she showed up on that train with it chopped off and falling in her sweet face. McKinnon is a fucking idiot, letting the most desired witch in school go, for fucking Meadowes? Has she seen Lily's ass? Doesn't she notice the redhead doesn't understand that bras exist? Merlin…don't get me started on those eyes, in a permanent seductive lidding, and not just green but bloody jade, like jade and teal had together created a new color. It was peacock without the blue, lined with thick dark lashes and hovered by thin, dark, perfectly arched eyebrows.

And just remembering– "I must be dreaming, what in Circe's name are you doing here Rab?" Pandora Llewellyn plopped down next to me.

She's a good friend of mine, a Slytherin a year above me. We have always just been friends, I'd never go there with her, not that she isn't funny and intelligent and her whimsical, out there nature that reminded me of Lily was rather refreshing…but Pandora is…oblivious to feelings, sometimes you don't know if she's got your back she is very matter of fact and not very warm. You can't cry on her shoulder, she'll try and read your fate and say it's what the fates decide. But she's fun and unlike a lot of our fellow snake pit, isn't blood obsessed. She's very stunning, like a human star. Willows, leggy, moonlight skin and silvery eyes she always had kohl rimmed, silver blonde hair pin straight past her svelte hips that had you convinced she's part veela but she just has a Yugoslavian mother. Hm, physically she wasn't my type either. 

My eyes slid back over to Lily, my eyes narrowed into slits as I watched her delicate little hand old Xenophilius Lovegood's up to read his palm. Her nails weren't too long or too short, and painted midnight blue, cutesy chipped, fingers adorn with mood rings and Celtic rings. Her wrist wrapped in centuries old bangles and crystal bracelets. I discreetly lifted my wand under the table and shot a stinging jinx at Lovegood. I never had anything against the always high as a dragon, bohemian Ravenclaw, he irritates me but usually he's out of my way. But I don't like that she's touching him with the same hands that touched my face as she looked at me and healed me in my moment of suffering. I don't want his filthy skin to ever feel her touch again. I felt cruel pleasure seeing him wince and hearing him whine like a pathetic child. If a stinging jinx made him react so weakly, he has bigger problems.

"What did you do that for?" Pandora demanded, usually she has a lackadaisical voice, never had she ever shown this much emotion, this much hostility. 

"Panda-" I attempted her nickname I had for, my voice falling soft. I didn't know what I did wrong or why she cared what I did to Lovegood. She gathered her things, slipping out of the classroom after Xenophilius. 

I looked back to see Lily looking up at me, her hooded jade eyes looking up at me, her pouty lips painted with red lip stain. 

I could smell her, I could smell her scent…it was strange how exact down to the detail I could smell her but I did. It was rosewater, lilacs, watermint, and strawberries.  I wanted to bite her. I wanted to taste her again. 

"Let me do your chart." Her voice is soft, like everything else about her. Soft, slightly raspy, and a musical a mix of Northern Welsh accenting Midlands English, not quite Brummie but close. Her voice had a lovely rocking back and forth sound to it.

I don't remember when I said yes, but I must have. She was sitting before me now, she looked at me well not at me but through me. Like she was getting a vision, and she took a quill and scribbled on the parchment without looking down, I watched her swirling writing. It was my birthday, time of birth, and location.  I was amazed. January 18, 1971, blue monday in London at 3 a.m. She drew a map a celestial map and wrote down sun positioned in Capricorn, moon in Libra, rising in Scorpio, mercury in Capricorn, venus in Sagittarius, Mars in Scorpio, jupiter in Sagittarius, saturn in taurus, uranus in Libra, neptune in Sagittarius, pluto in Virgo, North node in Aquarius, and Chiron in Aries. 

She drew so many symbols  ♃, ♄, ♇, ♀, ♂, ♅, ☿, ♆. 

Her jade eyes blinked and she looked up at me. "You're born on blue monday at the witching hour…there's a prophecy…" She trailed off with a faraway look.

I felt confused, so lost, all of this was balderdash. Utter bullshit, why did she look  worried for me and what prophecy? No, it's all just magician's crap. "I think I'm supposed to do your chart. But I can't do that creepy phasing out thing you did, hand me the kit."

She still looked at me strangely as she handed me the kit to create the chart, it consisted of a sundial, machina mundi,Mundial, rectangulus, an astrolabe, augrym stones and a navicula. A whole lot to find out nothing. 

I looked at her, and I remembered everything...not just the carnal pleasure but the pain, she saw me when I was most vulnerable, saw me past the mask I worked so hard to craft and present. Something more than sex and tears happened. She looked up at me, remembering too and then spoke. "You're holding your navicula wrong."

I looked down at it. "Oh."

I needed her again. This time I wanted all of her inside of her–

"Let me show you." She was beside me in an instant. Her sweet scent made my mouth water as she was beside me so close. I needed to kiss her neck, I shouldn't but I need to. Very discreetly I brushed my nose against her hair, my eyes rolled back. Beneath the lavender scented shampoo was the smell of the strawberries. I had to have her show me how to use the instruments again, and again, and again.

Class ended and it was no use. "Why did you switch to fifth year Divinations?" She asked me suddenly.

"Why because I'm a fourth year?"

She waved her wand to help Professor Firenze clean up. "No, most of your classes are advanced for your age." She tucked her wand that I knew she didn't need, away. She smiled up at me, I just noticed she was wearing eyeliner, it was subtle but it was there. "You don't strike me as the type to rely on the science of intuition. "

"I like to have a diverse time table, for career opportunities. "It was the excuse I agreed to, to myself.

She stared for a long moment before nodding. "I'll see you around, if you want." 

It was a strange way of saying goodbye, she was gone so quickly and I cursed myself for saying nothing about it. I clenched my fists and left the awful patchouli smelling classroom.

I had to get her out of my mind, with my life she didn't fit. She wasn't allowed to, lovely beautiful things didn't survive in my world. I raked my hand through my curls almost violently, the strongest urge to reopen the healed scars on my arms strangled with such hunger. It was an addiction that's for sure, gave me the high of a lifetime, I felt like I was flying before falling into nothingness.

I headed to the boys' lavatory, hoping no one was in there. Just one little slice maybe? That's all I need, then no more for a few days. I'll be okay. 

Once in there, with the flick of my wrist I closed and locked the door. I tossed my satchel and books to the floor carelessly, my mind on one thing and one thing only, sweating in sweet anticipation. I almost moaned as I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and jumper to reveal the pale scars on my arm, scars she healed. "Forget her!" I growled. 

"Forget who, exactly?" A lazy sounding, good natured voice interrupted my privacy.

I whipped around so fast, only to come face to face with James Potter. My brother's number one best friend, the one who stole my brother away.

I hated him for it.

He's so fucking charming, has to just seduce everyone into adoring him. Never had to worry about one bloody thing, parents adored him, loads of money with no strings or obligations attached. He's not just brilliant and so smart without ever picking up a damn book once and studying, no it's all so easy for him. Everyone wants to be his friend, everyone wants to be him, he's athletic, boys and girls want to possess him. And why wouldn't they? He looks like a model, so tall and pretty at a towering height of 5'11 at 15. All very lean muscle, a runner built, perfect for a chaser. Olive skin from his Persian heritage on his mother's side, full, big, rosy lips that are attractively too big for his slim jawline with high cheekbones. He has a perfect noble nose, don't let you forget he's from noble blood on both sides, a descendant of desert princes no doubt. His eyes are as problematic as Lily's, bedroom set, with the thickest and longest, blackest lashes you'll ever see that naturally made it look like he wore kohl. His gold rimmed glasses didn't hide or take away from the amber eyes he possessed, that were like cognac, honey, and Hazel green all swirled in one. They're unsettling pretty. His ebony ringlets were messy and long in a shag and real ruby studded his nose. Why a quidditch player would wear nose jewelry is beyond me, but he loved showing off his expensive jewelry.

He's a spoiled pretty boy, a little shit who hasn't tasted the cruelty of life. Was that lip gloss? Was he trying to make his lips look more whorish? I scowled at his smirk. I felt myself blush and my skin heated up. I looked down at his long slender fingers, cherry red. polish painted his nails. "Can I help you, Reggie?"

I turned back around sharply. "What are you doing here?" I snapped. 

"Um it's a bathroom, what do you think?" He had a twinkling laugh accenting his response.

I froze as he made his way to the sink next time, I clenched mine until my knuckles turned white as he over lathered his gentle hands that never knew suffering, they're pretty. And I smelled him, did I turn into a dog overnight? First Lily, now James? It could be a cologne, a cologne that smells like cherries and fire like cherries jubilee, the fresh morning just when the sun rises, and roses. It was an explosive combination right in your face, provocative to be honest. 

After drying his delicate hands he looked at me. How could someone be so pretty and the quidditch Star of Hogwarts? "Hey…'' his usual cocky smirk dropped from his lips as he eyed me. He almost looked concerned, but he couldn't be. He could care less about me, probably just thinks I'm a pathetic loner.

"That nose ring looks utterly ridiculous!" I snapped before storming out rushing straight to the commons. Lucius tried to call my attention. I heard someone follow me..

Once in my dorm, I noticed it was Barty. He didn't have James' juicy lips and little hips, or his black curls. But he will do, I took my frustration out on him balls deep. Every thrust making me forget how I lusted after someone who thinks I'm a loser, how Lily would be in danger if she was in my life and that I was probably just rebound for her after Marlene, and how even though I'm away from home until December, my parents have eyes and ears in the castle. There's more pressure on me now that I was their last hope.

James just had to get in the way, I needed that release so badly I needed to feel that relief when my skin breaks and rips and the blood bubbles and spills.

This wasn't doing it for me. Barty knows me, knows my sordid ideas of pleasure. "Bite me hard," I grabbed his jaw cruelly. "You know how!" 

With my command as his ring of muscled choked my cock, he bit my neck so hard I did bleed, and I sped up so hard hitting deeper than his spot and spilling in him as my blood spilled down my chest staining my pristine, white shirt.

@sufferingstarlight @meetmyothersouls

[cupofteaguk]

battle of brains (m)

PART OF THE REPUTATION SERIES

summary: when it comes to academics, everyone knows not to disrupt Park Jimin with his high-standing reputation. but how is a transfer student from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry supposed to know about maintaining his reputation? spoiler alert: they don’t care. 

pairing: jimin x fem!reader

genre: hogwarts au, nerd!jimin, enemies to lovers au | smut 

warnings: jimin and yn are arrogant idiots, inappropriate usage of Head Student/prefect equipment, alcohol consumption, the story sort of rushes towards the end because I was (and am) so tired of writing this lmao

smut present in the form of: sexual tension, slight dirty talk maybe idk what i’m doing, light bratty and dom vibes, fingering, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, bondage, one (1) spank, dry humping, slight voyeurism (they have sex in a bathroom, it’s not as gross as it sounds i promise), yeah idk there’s a lot of filth i lost control lol

word count: 25k

a/n: I have poured my blood sweat and tears (by bts) into this fic and appreciate the patience of everyone on this site. hope you enjoy it xx 

.

Park Jimin enters the school grounds the same way he has for the past six years: smirk on his face, books in his bag, and a knowledge in his heart that he is the smartest student standing within these castle walls. 

After all, ever since stepping off the train of platform nine and three-quarters all those years ago, Park Jimin has never slipped below an O on his test grades, on his assignments, and overall grades in his classes. Six years have seen Park Jimin on a first name basis with all of his professors, every conversation plagued with his natural talent and natural inclination to do well on essays and exams. And none of them are overgeneralizations about Jimin either—if those aforementioned Outstanding marks on his report cards are anything to go off of. It’s a good position to be in, one that Park Jimin acknowledges and is proud of. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s spent years buried in the library, combing through as many books as his mind would allow him to, using his knowledge to lead discussions and tests and basically set himself as one of brightest wizards in Hogwarts. 

So, pair that intelligence with his charming smile and his highly capable social skills to last in plenty of social interactions—and you get Park Jimin. He’s proud, smart, smug, and currently raising his hand. It’s a normal sight for any student in Hogwarts who has the pleasure (or misfortune, or annoyance) of attending class with Park Jimin or attending class with the same house as Park Jimin. His quick-wit and fast processing brain earned him lots of points towards the Slytherin house. But for every point he earned Slytherin, he took away the opportunity for another house to earn points—hence, where the annoyance from his peers probably comes into play. 

But Park Jimin doesn’t care. He doesn’t need to look out for anyone other than himself. That’s why as soon as Professor Binns opened class with his usual first question: “Can anyone tell me what followed the Soap Blizzard of 1378?”, he lifts his hand up. 

He waits for Professor Binns to look up and call his name, as it usually goes. Jimin’s usual plan, however, is halted when an unfamiliar voice sounds from the back of the classroom. “I believe it was the Wizarding Economic Bubble Burst, professor.” 

A different kind of silence takes over the classroom, one that is plagued with a weight of questions and surprise. Who was talking? Who would answer a question without raising their hand? 

But above all: Who would try to overstep Park Jimin? 

Jimin overcomes the momentary flood of confusion that pour through him as he lowers his hand. As soon as his hand is back on his desk, he follows what his peers are doing in turning around in his seat, to see who the voice belongs to. At the doorway stands a student Jimin has never seen in his life, dressed in what looks to be new Hogwarts robes. Behind you is Professor McGonagall, displaying no expression to give away who you are or what you’re doing here. 

You’ve got your hands in the pocket of your robes, head tilted to the side, looking as if answering Professor Binns question had required no extra mental effort, as if you had the answer ready on the tip of your tongue. 

At your response, Professor Binns looks up from his podium. “You are correct. Normally, I require students wait to be called on first before answering my question. But you provided a full answer, which is impressive. Especially for an event that hasn’t been covered for you students in a few years. But no matter. To what do I owe the pleasure, Professor McGonagall?” 

“My apologies, Professor Binns,” She says, holding up a slip of paper. “But we have a new transfer student—someone from the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” The professor directs her attention to the rest of the class. “I know we rarely get transfer students, especially so late in the student’s life, so I expect you all to be welcoming to help Ms. Y/N get adjusted.” 

The room is immediately enveloped in a blanket of whispers. Professor McGonagall is right—it’s not just rare to get transfer students, it’s practically unheard of. Especially during a student’s last year in school. The questions start coming up. Who are you? What type of situation are you in that would call for a transfer across the world? And again, the biggest question of all, how could you overstep Park Jimin? 

Professor Binns stares at the two at the door for a moment longer, before he looks back down at the podium. “Very well. Ms. Y/N, was it? Take a seat. Contrary to my previous question, today’s lecture isn’t going to be about the Soap Blizzard, but it is a vaguely entertaining topic to engage in…” 

He starts to drone on about something else. Maybe goblins or something? Park Jimin isn’t very sure anymore. The only thing he’s conscious of right now is the whispering exchanges between you and the professor. Professor McGonagall hands you the transfer papers. She asks you a few more questions before turning around and heading back down the hallway she had entered from. This leaves you alone in the doorway, lingering for a moment, before you start to move. 

Even though Professor Binns is still going on about the topic for today, it’s clear hardly anyone is paying attention. The weight of their gaze falls solely on you as you enter the classroom. You aren’t doing anything to earn their attention, but questions about you largely outweighs any questions anyone might have about class. 

People continue to watch as you brush behind Jimin’s seat, before settling yourself in the only vacant chair in the classroom—a place that also so happens to be Jimin’s desk partner. Jimin watches out of the corner of his eye as you settle yourself in, taking out your notebook, quill, and ink. He thinks about the possibility of you saying something to him—maybe an apology for answering a question he had already raised his hand for. Maybe an introduction. Maybe you would ask him how he knew about the Soap Blizzard. Yet, the longer the pair of you sit there, listening but not really listening to Professor Binns go on and on, the longer Jimin feels himself turn red with irritation. You remain quiet. 

The class time goes a lot slower than Jimin is used to, as his mind is reeling too much with questions about his new desk partner to pay any attention to class material. It isn’t until Professor Binns is dismissing the class in his usual deadpan tone, does Jimin turn to look at you. 

He pastes on a friendly expression. “Hey there,” He greets, just as you’re screwing on the cap of your ink bottle. “That was really impressive when you knew the answer to the question at the beginning of class. Did you guys over at Ilvermorny just go over the Bubble Burst before you transferred?” 

You do look over at Jimin this time, eying him up for a moment before you smile. “No, not really. We went over that shit the same time as you guys.” You turn back to gathering your quill and ink. You flip your hair over your shoulder when it starts to get into your face. “I just have better memory than most.” 

Jimin blinks, having not expected such an answer from you. You didn’t even thank him for the compliment, nevermind that you weren’t giving him anything to make a conversation from. 

You flash him one last glance before you straighten up from your seat, making your way to the front of the room. It’s probably to ask Professor Binns about bringing you up to speed with any potential assignments or readings you need to fulfill in order to do well in the class. But just like with the whole encounter the pair of you experienced thus far, it further continues to rub Jimin the wrong way. As far as first impressions go, the one you leave behind is absolutely—! 

.

“Terrible,” Jimin reports as he sits himself down in the courtyard, book bag thrown onto the ground and catching the attention of the other boys who are already situated around the area. He plops down next to Jungkook, running a hand through his hair and looking irritated enough that it halts any outside conversation that may have occurred before his appearance. 

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at Jimin’s arrival. “You doing okay there?” 

Jimin gives a heavy sigh. “You should have been in class with me today. We have a new transfer student from the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and she is—!” 

“A new student at this time of year?” Yoongi interrupts, already proving to be uninterested with the direction of the conversation as he’s writing something down in his notebook. “During our last year?” 

Jungkook perks up at the mention of ‘new’ and ‘student’. “Is she cute?” 

Hoseok giggles, elbowing the boy. “Trying to find someone who doesn’t know what it’s like to be fucked over by you, huh, JK?” 

Jimin shrugs a shoulder, raising an arm into the air with the palm of his hand upturned, furrowing his eyebrows at the question. “I don’t know. Our conversation didn’t exactly highlight the charming aspects of her personality.” 

Namjoon whistles. “She must have really done something for you to be annoyed.” 

“She was just…” Jimin trails off, trying to find the right word to describe the current feeling setting with him. “She just—she answered Professor Binn’s beginning of class question without raising her hand. She didn’t even wait for Professor Binns to call on her! Can you believe that?” 

There’s a lapse of silence as his friends take a moment to take in Jimin’s explanation of his day. 

Jungkook is the first to realize that Jimin is finished, and is the first to speak up. “Is that it?” 

Yoongi looks up from his notebook. “But you hardly ever wait for the professors to call your name.” 

“Hey!” Jimin calls, pointing a finger at the Head Boy. “Whose side are you on?” 

“Yours, of course,” Yoongi says, brushing the hair from his forehead. “But you seem to be upset for a minor reason. Even from my perspective, it doesn’t seem like she did anything wrong. She knew the question, so she answered it.” 

Jimin pouts slightly. “Doesn’t seem like you’re on my side though! How can you say something like that? For a Head Boy, you’re not good at paying attention to rules.” 

“Maybe participation is measured differently at Ilvermorny—you expect me to write up detention to someone because they broke rules they didn’t even know existed in the first place?” Yoongi asks. The corner of his lips turn up. “I admit I can be a little harsh with giving out detentions, but the students I target have known about the Hogwarts rules their entire life. They should know better. The expectation on that transfer student is a little much, especially coming from you. Are you sure you’re not just mad that someone who wasn’t you got to show off? 

Jimin glares. “Of course not,” He protests, done in a way that is overly exaggerated and implies that he’s definitely mad he didn’t get to show off. 

“Of course he is,” Namjoon grumbles under his breath. “The spotlight is taken away from him for two seconds and he’s already pouting like a baby.” 

“I’m not pouting,” Jimin scowls. “I can’t believe you guys aren’t on my side. Someone answering a question before me is like someone catching a Golden Snitch before Jeon.” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “You trying to compare us or something, Park? Besides, a question given at the beginning of class is different from a whole Quidditch game. I guess it’s more like someone doing better than me during Quidditch practices? I’m not at my best, just like how you aren’t at your best during questions asked in class that, frankly, don’t mean shit.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of bread he had taken from the Great Hall earlier that morning. No one questions it. Jungkook is known to sneak snacks around. He takes a bite of the bread. “And just like how I’m at my best during Quidditch games, you’re at your best when you’re prepared and focused.” 

“Jungkook is right,” Namjoon says, slinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “So what if a transfer student gets one question right? You’ve gotten six years worth of questions correct. When the tests start coming around and the professors congratulate you on another high score, I think you’ll realize how much you’re overreacting.” He holds up a finger when Jimin opens his mouth. “You are, but that’s fine.” 

Jimin sighs. “Okay, okay, you’re right. It was just one question. It’s not that big of a deal. You’re right. I’m fine.” 

His friends exchange glances, but Jimin pretends he doesn’t see them because he’s too busy trying to engrave the previous reassurances into his mind. He was totally fine. He could brush past this minor irritation. It’s not like other students never got to answer questions delivered by a professor over his student career, because they had. This was just another person, and you are just another student—a new student, but a student nonetheless. In a few weeks, you’ll just become someone he’ll pass by in the hallway. 

The mental note that in the long run, your small interaction would become a hazy memory, relaxes Jimin. After all, it’s not a big deal. It was fine. 

Spoiler alert: It was not fine. 

. 

Rumors have a habit of flying around Hogwarts quickly. After all, when students are more-or-less trapped in a castle for nine months of a year, the amount of entertainment available becomes limited to homework, friends, a handful of outdoor activities, and participating in the creation and distribution of gossip. Kim Namjoon knows all about gossip—he’s part of the foundation that creates that business. 

And it’s all driving Park Jimin crazy, not because of the act of gossip itself, but because the rumors are circling around an individual he thought would have been pushed to the backburner by now. That individual, as could be guessed, is you. And he can’t believe it. 

In all honesty, he should have known better. A student from the Ilvermorny school comes in during the final year, answers a question seamlessly right off the bat, and makes no attempts to befriend any students. What kind of person wouldn’t be curious about that? 

The answer is no one. Everyone is curious about you, and it shows. 

After all, it just takes one week for everyone to know about your quick response to Professor Binns question, and even less time for assumptions about your education level to come into discussion.

“I hear she was the top student at Ilvermorny,” Namjoon says by way of greeting as he slides across from Jimin in the library. 

Jimin barely looks up from his textbook. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better because…?” He trails off. 

Namjoon blinks. “It wasn’t.” 

Jimin scowls. “Fuck off.” 

It’s hard to pretend someone doesn’t exist when their mere presence can cause so much discussion and debate. Besides, he already had an inkling that you weren’t just any normal student from Ilvermorny. Your knowledge of the material being taught in class has shed a light to two things: one, it highlights your ability to retain topics from years ago and two, it shows how quickly you can follow your professors advice on readings or essays needed in order to be up to date with the curriculum. 

Conclusion: you are smart. Really smart, actually. Smart enough to be the top student at Ilvermorny. And the seeming lack of effort on your end to accomplish so much with little work is what Jimin realizes is the most irritating aspect of this whole thing. That may have slid by at Ilvermorny, but this is different. Because you being the top student at Ilvermorny is equivalent to Jimin being the top student at Hogwarts. And if you took over his spot, where would that leave Jimin? The second best student at Hogwarts? 

Yeah, he doesn’t think so. 

The feelings only dig themselves in deeper when the first few weeks pass and test dates start being scheduled, announced, and distributed. Jimin studies the way he has for years: he buries himself in his notebooks and holes up in the library for as long as physically possible. He smiles at some pretty girls that walk by, that park themselves in a table just a few rows down from his own. They giggle at the smiles he sends and the glances he steals with them. He doesn’t start a conversation with any of those girls, however, he continues to keep to himself as he rummages through his notes to stay on top of his study schedule. 

After a few minutes of organizing and filling out study guides, Jimin realizes that there is a question he hadn’t taken note of during his previous classes. With a sigh, he straightens up out of his desk, heading towards the aisle filled with Charms textbooks. His eyes narrow on the spines of the books, already having a vivid image in his mind of what he was looking for. 

His fingers reach out, hovering, until a movement next to the corner of his eye stops him. He lowers his hand, and glares. “I’m a little surprised to see you here,” He notes by way of greeting. 

You give Jimin a smile with no teeth. “Is that anyway to speak to your seat partner, Park Jimin?” 

“I was just making an observation.” He frowns. “What are you doing here?” 

You don’t comment about him answering your question with a question. After all, this kind of conversation is a normal occurrence between the two of you—as it has been ever since your first encounter. 

“Just grabbing a book,” You say, reaching into the shelf and sliding out a copy of an advanced seventh year Charms textbook. “Those bonus questions on the charms study guide are a real bitch, am I right?”

He stares at you. “I can’t say for sure. I haven’t gotten there yet.” 

“Wow.” You grin. “And I thought you were one of the smart ones, Park Jimin.” You bring the book to your chest. “I should get back to my seat.” 

He hums, about to let you slip past his fingers, but a thought stops him. “Hey,” He calls out, watching as you turn back around. Your eyes study him—gaze observant and unwavering.

His own eyes momentarily flicker down below your face. From the collar of your school shirt to your waist, to the line where the fabric of your skirt meets the skin of your leg. He swallows, dragging his eyes back up to you. You raise an eyebrow, a corner of your lips turning up, as if you know what he’s thinking. “Yes?” You ask, making yourself comfortable again against the shelf. 

“Listen,” He starts, trying to mentally form his words. “I know you’re new, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. But ranking first on tests and grades is sort of my thing. I’ve been here since I turned eleven, so I think as a newcomer you should learn your place now before rumors get spread and your life here as a student gets very complicated.” 

You huff in disbelief, taking a step towards him. “Is that a threat, Park Jimin?” 

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” He returns. 

You’re standing at an arm’s length away from him. “I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re trying to play. Trying to enforce something that only benefits you, because it seems like you can’t handle when someone is smarter than you are.” You smile again, no teeth. “I’m not scared of you. You think I give a fuck about what your little gang of friends have to spread about me? Yeah, I know about your group. If you think bullshit like that is going to stop me from doing my best, then you better start doing some actual research about me. I think you’re in over your head. I was the best at my school, so don’t think I don’t have what it takes to be the best here.” 

Jimin remains unwavering, choosing to keep his gaze on you. “We’ll see about that.” 

You raise an eyebrow at the challenge, looking amused rather than annoyed. For a moment, neither of you say anything. Your gaze switches between his eyes. 

And down at his lips. 

They flash back up just as fast as they had looked down. 

Your tongue quickly darts across your lower lip. “I guess we will,” You say, taking a step back. “I’ll see you around, Park Jimin.” 

His gaze trails down your backside as you leave. 

.

The Charms exam is the first test of Jimin’s final year at Hogwarts, and he goes in with high expectations for himself—as he always does. He answers all the questions, recalling them from the study guides or various readings he had done in preparation. All in all, it’s a regular Charms exam in all its short answers and detailed explanations, but one he has full confidence in doing the best in once again. 

So imagine his surprise when Professor Flitwick stops in front of your desk, produces your test from the collection in his arms, and utters the following words: “Congratulations to Ms. Y/N for making the top score in the class. She went above and beyond for all the questions, including the extra credit, and is therefore very well deserving of her Outstanding score!” He claps. “Yes, yes, very good Ms. Y/N! Keep up the good work!” 

You smile, looking down at your practically unmarked test, taking in the O at the top of the paper. 

The way you slide your eyes towards Park Jimin does not go unnoticed by him, who looks down at his own test. There is a single mark on his test, a -½ at the top, with points marked off from one of his last extra credit questions. Missing a half mark on a test isn’t unheard of with a Charms exam, which can be long and tedious and requires thorough paragraph-length responses. 

However, Park Jimin not scoring the highest score in the class is unheard of. 

And now you know it, as the students looking around the classroom is anything to go off on. You are not looking at the students around you. You are looking right at Park Jimin, with the corner of your lips turned up, a look of pride written all across your face. 

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do next, but maybe he’ll try to take a note from Jung Hoseok’s book about putting a damper on someone’s day—he wonders if you like hiccough sweet in your morning tea. 

. 

Park Jimin never gets to find out if you like hiccough sweet in your morning tea, because he gets called into Professor McGonagall’s office before he can figure out the best way to give you a taste of how rough he could make your life. 

Not only does he get called into the Headmistress’ office, he gets called in with you. 

He sees you about to pull open the office door, and cannot seem to help his impatience. He rushes towards you, brushing past you in an attempt to reach the handle first. “Excuse me sweetheart, I have an appointment with Professor McGonagall so if you could let me go ahead, I’d appreciate it…” 

You move forward to block him from opening the door. You give him an eyebrow raise, thoroughly unimpressed. “Sweetheart?” You inquire, referring to his nickname. 

He blinks. Normally, his peers would be flustered at being cornered in such a way and he cannot help his further frustration—because just what is your problem? Do you not have any weaknesses? 

Since people are usually flustered following his whole ‘sweetheart’ role, he doesn’t know how to respond to someone who isn’t flustered by his role. Which, in turn, leaves him slightly flustered. “Well…” He starts. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I have a name, Park Jimin, and I’d appreciate it if you called me that instead of whatever bullshit you think I’ll bend over for.” 

“Duly noted,” He grumbles, deciding to let you have this one. “I wasn’t trying to be difficult though, sweet—Y/N.” He corrects himself upon seeing your glare. If he thought you weren’t serious with your threats, he definitely doesn’t think that now. The glare you give him makes him wonder if maybe you’ll slip hiccough sweet into his morning tea. “I do have an appointment with Professor McGonagall right now.” 

That makes you furrow your eyebrows, but not in a way that’s directed at him. “Huh,” You say, mostly to yourself. “I do too. That’s weird. Does she want to see both of us at the same time?” 

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest. “Why are you asking me? I’m just here to get this meeting over with.” 

“So am I, I’m just trying to figure out what this means! Don’t be an ass about this,” You snap back. You swear you’re about to go for the neck before the office door opens of its own accord. 

“Y/N! Jimin! Please come in.” It’s Professor McGonagall.

You sharply turn to Jimin. “Great, she heard your squawking.” 

Jimin glares at you. “You’re the one who’s talking about bending over for me!” 

You flush deeply at that. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Y/N? Jimin?” Professor McGonagall appears at the office door. “You may come in, that’s why I opened the door for you.” 

“P-Professor,” You say, stammering slightly and Jimin blinks at the sight—having never seen you look nervous before. “Whatever you heard outside, it’s not a reflection of our actual conversations…” 

“As if we ever have any actual conversations,” Jimin grumbles under his breath, and you give him a look that could cut glass. 

Before you can continue, the professor holds up a hand. “I just happened to open the door because it’s the time both of you should be here for your meeting anyways.” She shifts her gaze between the two of you. “Regardless of who is offering to bend over for whom.” 

Even Jimin has to admit the hotness on his cheeks. Neither of you say anything to that, although you kick Jimin in the shin before entering the office. The pair of you are gestured to take a seat in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk. 

“I do apologize for the last minute call,” She says as she laces her fingers together and places them on the desk. “But an assignment has come up that requires attention from both of you. It’s something that the top senior students are asked to do every year, but I wanted to make sure Y/N got adjusted before assigning her with a new project.” 

“Forgive my bluntness, professor,” Jimin speaks, hands on his lap. “But is asking the transfer student really necessary for what project you have for me? Since I’m the top student, I’m sure I can shoulder this by myself—!” 

“The project requires the top male and female student,” Professor McGonagall interrupts carefully, but she’s giving Jimin a look. “And since Y/N was the top student at Ilvermorny, her involvement in the project was requested by a member of the Ministry.” 

Jimin notices the way you stiffen at that—he sees it in the tightness of your jaw, the way you sit a little straighter. The scoff overpower his curiosity, seeing your reaction as nothing more than a student trying to land a job with the aforementioned Ministry of Magic, and he hates it. 

Neither you nor Professor McGonagall comment on his reaction, you just nod at her words with the kind of eyes that say you know exactly which member she’s referring to. Jimin decides not to ponder too deeply over it regardless. Any question, sarcastic or not, would not be received well by you. 

“And what exactly is the project about, professor?” You ask after a moment. 

Professor McGonagall readies herself at that. “It’s a project created by the Ministry of Magic,” She starts. “The project basically asks the top two students at Hogwarts to present a report about their time at the school—anything you two may have learned, from your classes to the extra curricular activities you might have enjoyed. We like to keep a good relationship with the Ministry of Magic, mainly to maintain career opportunities and internships open to the students here. The Ministry also likes to learn about what we’re teaching to either help fund programs and also keep other schools up to date with curriculum. Of course, the students who complete the project are allowed to opt out of their NEWT exams and are offered careers for those specific NEWTS. The project is given as an incentive for the top students to take advantage of the opportunity to jump start their careers—it’s also meant to serve as a reward for working so hard.” 

“So, we have to…” Jimin trails off, looking at you. “Work together?” 

“Yes, Mr. Park,” Professor McGonagall says. “The two of you will need to work together to come up with something cohesive, and professional. Y/N is still getting adjusted to life at Hogwarts, so I’m sure you’ll do well in showing her around the castle.” 

“Yeah, Mr. Park,” You add in, wearing a smile across your lips. “Guess this means you have to accept me as your equal, huh?” 

“When would we have to give this presentation?” Jimin cuts in, ignoring you completely and seeing the way you exhale through your nose in amusement. 

“It’s after the fall quarter,” The professor answers, eyes flickering between the two of you. “If there’s any problems that come up, or if either of you have any questions—I am available to answer them. Although I hope you both will be able to sort through most problems, like adults.” 

“I’m sure Mr. Park and I can figure something out,” You say, voice sugar sweet and eyes bright with attention. There’s a teasing tone, something you always seem to have during your encounters with Jimin. The boy merely sighs, mostly to himself, with the knowledge that this is something that has been handed to him. And therefore, it’s something he cannot outsmart. 

“Wonderful,” Professor McGonagall replies, looking relieved. “You both may go if you don’t have any further questions.” 

You straighten up, bowing to the professor, and purposely allowing your skirt to brush Jimin’s arm as you leave the room. His jaw sets further, because he could have sworn the skin of your leg touched his shoulder and the thought only annoys him more. Did you have to be such a brat—?

“Do you have anymore concerns, Mr. Park?” Professor McGonagall asks, beady eyes looking right through him. She seems to be challenging him. The Headmistress is, after all, no stranger to Jimin’s constant hustle to be the top student at the school. Jimin wonders if his nerves and him feeling threatened by a new student is showing. If it is, she doesn’t say anything. 

Jimin slowly gets up out of his chair. “No, professor,” He says, tilting his head slightly. “No concerns, no problems.” 

“Alright, well, you better get going,” Professor McGonagall says, picking up her quill. “I assume you have meetings to arrange with Y/N.” 

Jimin doesn’t say anything to that. He just watches the professor for a second longer before turning around and exiting the same way he had entered. A lot of thoughts enter his mind in that moment, mainly thoughts circling around what in the ever fuck was he going to do about being confined to working with someone he honestly could not stand—! 

“Just to let you know, I’m just as excited about this project as you are.” 

He stops short, lingering just outside the door to the office. “What are you doing?” 

You uncross your arms, remove yourself from your position against the wall. “I’m just expressing my excitement for this assignment.” 

“You’re sticking around just to spite me.” 

“Contrary to popular belief, not everything is about you. You’re just upset because you have to acknowledge that I’m smart enough to challenge you. Not only that, but smart enough to warrant a request for someone at the Ministry of Magic,” You say. “But that’s okay. I don’t need your acknowledgment—I’ve been doing fine all on my own.” 

He turns to look at you. “Hey, what was all that bullshit about being requested anyways?” 

You readjust the bag at your shoulder. “Hm, let me see… oh yeah. It’s none of your business.” 

“Does that specific member at the Ministry have something to do with your transfer?” 

You meet his gaze, eyes narrowing. “What part of ‘it’s none of your business’ do you not understand?” 

“Oh, I understand it completely.” He takes a step towards you, hands in his pocket. “Since, you know, you’re all excited about us working together, I think the least you can do is give me some answers so I have a good idea of who I’m working with.” 

You eye him up. “This is a presentation, Park Jimin, not a date.” 

“What’s not a date?” Kim Taehyung slides up to the pair of you. He looks between the two of you glaring at each other. “Hold on, is that code for something? Are you guys planning a rendezvous? Either way, this is a really weird way to flirt…” 

“We’re not flirting,” Jimin cuts in, sighing again when he seems to process who is next to him. He runs a hand through his hair. “What are you doing here?” 

Taehyung blinks. “I saw you and thought I’d say hello. If I had known I’d be walking into this very angry form of eye-fucking then I’d—!” 

“Do you have selective hearing?” You cut in. “Your friend already said we weren’t flirting. Which is true, we definitely aren’t.” 

Taehyung looks at you, seeming to realize who you are right off the bat. This is probably because Taehyung is popular and charming and generally knows all the students who reside in this castle. Not being able to identify you gives him an exact answer to your name. “Hey, you’re—!” 

“Leaving.” You turn around. Damn you, for twirling in a way that makes your skirt spin around. And damn Jimin, for watching that. 

“... the new girl,” Taehyung says to nobody, voice lowering considerably as soon as you gave both boys your back. Knowing he won’t get his answer from you, he turns to Jimin. “That was the new girl, right?” 

“Yes, Taehyung,” Jimin answers. “That was the new girl. And my life is officially over.” 

.

Jimin hadn’t been exaggerating when he delivered the news to Taehyung. The universe setting you and Jimin up to be partners on an assignment that circled around being on the same page and constructing something cohesive? That in itself, especially with two individuals with such strong opinions, is just a recipe for disaster. 

To be fair, the first meeting you and Jimin have isn’t a disaster. 

Not immediately, at least. 

“For the last time,” You say, rubbing at your temples. “We’re not going to do a presentation about your study habits and the grades you’ve received since your first year. Actually, not only are we not going to do that, I refuse to follow along in something that stupid.” 

Jimin feigns an innocent pout. “But the assignment is to talk about our experience at Hogwarts—and I really think my own history is the only thing we can go off of! And my experience is getting good grades, so it seems like the shoe fits pretty well on that one.” 

“Because you have nothing else better to talk about,” You grumble underneath your breath, straightening up and leaning back slightly when Jimin turns to glare at you. You hold up your hands in mock defense. 

“Ha, ha, very funny. At least I would have something to talk about. You’ve been at Hogwarts for, what, a few weeks? What would you talk about? Interrupting class lectures and bending over for the smartest student at school, like what’s that about—?” 

The flat of your palm goes straight for his collarbone. “Will you shut up about that?” You hiss. 

“Ouch!” Jimin whines, running his own hand over the place you hit him. “What the fuck—!” 

“Excuse me,” Madam Pince interjects from behind both of you. “Mr. Park, I’m surprised that I need to remind you of all people that the library is not a place for noise!” 

Jimin winces. “Sorry Madam Pince.” He waits until aforementioned Madam Pince is out of earshot before whipping back around to face you. “Nice going, fucker. You’re lucky I’m not a mean person otherwise I’d make your life a living hell for that stunt.” 

“‘I’m not a mean person’ he says,” You quote. “While he yells at me and calls me a fucker.” 

Jimin leans forward to rest his head into the palm of his hands. “We’re never going to get anything done, are we?” 

“And, by the way, what is your obsession with talking about me bending over for you?” You bring up, shoving one of your textbooks out of the way. You are able to turn more comfortably this time, resting your elbow on the table with your body facing towards Jimin. “You like watching people squirm or something?” 

At that, he peeks out through the gaps of his fingers to look at you. Immediately, his eyes land on your bare knees, where your skirt probably would have been had you not been moving around previously in a way that caused the fabric to rise up. The fabric is now at your thigh, with your legs spread enough due to your quick movements. His eyes flicker down to the junction, darkened by the shadow casted by your skirt, leaving enough to the imagination. 

He shuts his eyes, the previous flickers undetectable because of his hands blocking the way, but he cannot help the racing of his heart. He feels as if he just did something risky, thrilling, dirty. 

Although who is he kidding. He did, in fact, do something risky, thrilling, and dirty all in one subtle glance. The knowledge of this only frustrates him further. Did you position your legs like that on purpose? Did you know that he would notice—just as he’s noticed you since your very first day in class? Today, though, it feels different. Beyond just the normal bounds of frustration, there’s a curiosity. More than curiosity, there’s a flashing image behind his eyes. 

One of what it would feel like to have your thighs around his waist. 

There’s a twitch between his legs. 

“Not just anyone,” He returns instead. 

You’re looking at him, legs still parted. “You wanna give me an idea of what that’s like, Park Jimin?” 

Jimin continues to look at you, taking in your amused, curious, serious expression and the realization pings through his mind. You are doing this on purpose. You’re trying to test him, mess with him, and you are enjoying it—as you have been since he threatened you in the library. Just as you’ve done with staring at his mouth, when you brushed the hem of your skirt over his arm, and especially now. You aren’t stupid. You’ve seen his lingering eyes in the same way he’s noticed yours. You’re trying to see how far you can push him before he snaps. 

He decides to ignore the fleeting distraction between his legs as he turns back to the opened textbook on his desk. “Unfortunately for you, you don’t fall in that category. Your curiosity is cute, though.” 

“Hm.” You hum, finally turning back towards the desk and finally closing your legs and finally removing the distraction from his line of sight. “That’s a pity.” 

He shrugs. “Since it seems like you do enjoy the thought of squirming around for me, maybe stay out of my way and I’ll consider showing you what that could be about.” 

You actually laugh at that, a soft sound—appropriate, considering both of you were in a library, but something almost… whimsy? And pretty? What was happening? 

At that, Jimin cannot help his own exhale of air, as he looks at you with eyebrows furrowed. “What’s so funny?” 

You hum again, shrugging as you pull your school bag forward to stuff it with parchment and books. “Oh, nothing.” You straighten out of the seat, shouldering your bag. “You just admitted that I’m in your way. And that’s exactly where I intend to stay.” 

He flickers his gaze down to your bag. “Hold on, where do you think you’re going? We still have a whole presentation to draft.” 

“Oh, I’m just doing some extra credit for Professor Binns,” You answer. “Besides, we basically have a whole fall quarter to work on it. Besides, your ideas aren’t exactly thought-provoking as they are. More than that, they suck. Come up with something better.”  

“What, so it’s my job to come up with the different topics we’ll have to cover?” Jimin huffs.

You give him a vaguely surprised look. “You’re the one who said you were the only one with relevant ideas.” You glance down at your watch. “Listen, I really have to go. Come up with something better. Or ask me for my opinion next time and actually be willing to listen to it.” You deliver a sickly sweet smile, one that he wishes to wipe off. Maybe with some harsh words. 

Or maybe his mouth—! 

He tells himself it’s not creepy to watch your hips sway side to side as you leave the library. 

Once you are gone, this leaves Jimin by himself, surrounded by people but alone in his thoughts. The banter has left him with a racing heart and, quite frankly, a semi in his slacks that he doesn’t think is going away anytime soon. Everytime he thinks he has a handle on what just happened, he gets a flash of your skirt or your lips or your hips and the memory of you being an absolute fucking brat—and that feeling comes back. 

That feeling is one of pure frustration, a desire to just shove you against a wall, to see if he could swallow up all those words that do such a good job of riling him up. 

He grits his teeth before moving to collect his own items of books and paperwork. Stuffing them into his bag, he begins to exit the library, hoping that each step he took would be a step away from that terrible idea. He couldn’t let you win—he couldn’t let you get to him. 

. 

The second meeting he has with you couldn’t entirely be defined as an actual meeting. But it’s an encounter, and it involves a conversation about the project—which fits the requirements of what a meeting technically could entail. 

It happens a week after the first meeting, of seeing each other in classes but both of you making an active attempt to ignore each other. Both doing it for different reasons, but doing it nonetheless. 

However, this changes when Jimin gets an idea for the project that he knows he needs to run by you. Assuming you don’t bark at him for lacking originality and assuming he could get through a proper interaction without shoving you against the wall. That latter thought has been getting increasingly more difficult as the week dragged on. You, with your stupid mini skirts and tucked in button-ups, your stupider display of legs that has piqued his interest more than any other member of the female population prior—a feat that is unbelievably stupid given that legs in itself isn’t a novel thing—along with your even stupidest strut down the hallways. Whether those things have been intentional or not, he honestly feels as if one wrong move could crack this facade he’s spent the week putting together. 

He decides to pursue you after the shared Muggle Studies class you have together, when you’re out in the hallway and he’s following close behind. He doesn’t know your next destination, assuming you have one—because honestly, it’s been a few weeks since your official enrollment and he has yet to see you with a group of friends. 

Instead, he elects to just ignore that internal question, and make his way towards you. 

He matches stride with you. “Hear me out.” 

You groan immediately. “Haven’t I heard enough of you already?” 

That is true. The lesson in Muggle Studies had involved watching and talking about a muggle film and, naturally, Jimin had a lot to say. 

Jimin grins. “Are you saying that none of my discussions were enticing enough for you, sweetheart?” 

You glare at him. “What did I say about the sweetheart thing?” 

You had warned him plenty. However, it’s worth seeing the angry flush along your cheeks. He tries at an answer too. “That you would bend over for me if I kept calling you by it?” 

Your eyes narrow. “I’d choose your next words carefully, Park Jimin.” 

“So serious,” He remarks, tearing his gaze from you. 

You sigh. “Anyways, what are you even doing right now? Talking to me once a week to pick a fight seems desperate, especially for you.” 

“I’m not trying to pick a fight—!” He cuts himself off. “I really did have a reason for catching up to you.” He stills. He really did forget what he had approached you for. “Shit, okay, give me a second.” 

“Don’t hurt yourself.” 

He ignores you. “Oh! Right! For the project. Actually here, let’s talk somewhere else.” Without a warning, he grabs your arm and practically drags you into one of the empty classrooms. It’s a room for astronomy labs—an open-spaced classroom with a high ceiling in case Professor Sinistra needed to recreate certain astronomical events not available during specific quarters or times of day. The ceiling is a navy color, dusted with tiny stars and constellations at the top, and rows of desks and empty seats around. 

You and Jimin settle yourselves near the front of the classroom—close to the door but not close enough where a wrong move would send you out into the hallway. 

When Jimin closes the door, you’re still watching him warily with arms over your chest. “Is your idea that good that you have to pull me into an empty classroom for it?” 

“Well, I’m just saving you the embarrassment in case my idea happens to be good, you start cheering me on.” 

You sigh. “Well, try me then, Park Jimin.” 

“Alright,” He starts. “I hear you when you tell me just talking about my grades isn’t enough.” 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t enough, I said that idea was dumb as shit—!” 

He ignores you again. “So how about we talk about different aspects of Hogwarts. We can talk about things like the classes, Quidditch, spell-casting, the newspaper, and the role of the Head Boy.” 

You do actually ponder this for a moment, but you’re extremely observant. He knows immediately that you’re about to spit something from the way you narrow your eyebrows. “Why be so specific? And what am I supposed to talk about from that limited pool of topics?” 

He gives you a straightforward look. “I thought we already established that you would have nothing to talk about.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were serious about that.” 

“Well, as you should know sweetheart, I’m very serious all of the time.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” You’re glaring now. “Do you not remember Professor McGonagall telling us that this was a team project? We have to work together. If the Ministry comes to the realization that, no, we did not put together a cohesive presentation highlighting our own personal journeys and no, contrary to your pea brain, the presentation should never have centered around you in the first place, we’re going to be in deep shit. Professor McGonagall will probably have us shunned for the rest of the school year, we’ll definitely lose that internship opportunity with the Ministry and my father would—!” You cut yourself off immediately, wide-eyed at your own slip of the mouth. 

Jimin raises an eyebrow at that. What does your father have to do with acing the presentation at the Ministry? The realization hits him pretty quick at that. “Oh, okay I see. So daddy was the one who requested your involvement on this team—?” 

Your eyes, once wide with emotion and tinged with vaguely defined fear, harden. “How about you mind your own business and not resort to asking really inappropriate questions about my family life?” You snap. 

“Woah, alright, I’ll stop,” Jimin interjects, raising both hands up. “If this is what I get for trying to be your friend.” 

“For the last time,” You grit between your teeth, stepping closer to him, getting all up in his face and completely distracting him with the wash of lavender that overcomes his nostrils. There’s that delicious flush along your cheeks once again. “We are not friends. And don’t hold your breath because we’ll never be friends. I would never associate myself with anyone at this school, much less a vile, arrogant, disrespectful, terribly overrated individual like you—!” 

Jimin doesn’t have an explanation for what he does next. He almost doesn’t even have control over his actions, like his body has a mind of his mind. One moment, he’s staring at you, far enough to still see your entire face but close enough to see the fire in your eyes. 

And then the next moment, his eyes are closed and there’s something soft and warm against his lips. He’s kissing you. 

The following seconds feel like minutes or hours, ticking slowly in contrast to Jimin’s thrumming heart. His fingers curl around something soft and textured: your hair. His lips, on his own unawareness, are moving frantically against yours—either to get his frustration out or get you to respond, he isn’t too sure. 

It isn’t until his tongue pushes against your lips that he hears a whimper from the back of your throat that stirs up his insides like nothing else you’ve done to him before. He feels your fingers at the back of his neck, in his hair, nails digging into the skin, all before you part your lips. His boldness increases at the gesture, pressing harder against you. 

The weight of him makes you take steps back, until both of you are moving about the classroom completely unaware of your surroundings. But Jimin doesn’t care, hardly even notices that you’re backing up. Every step you take back is matched with a step forward by him as he continues his attack on your mouth.

That is, until you hit one of the desks and the legs of the table scrap against the floor. The noise is like a bell that sets off in Jimin’s head. It goes off in your mind as well, actually, because you’re both quick to separate and push each other off. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and face flushed for entirely different reasons in comparison to a few seconds ago. Your lips are a deeper shade of red, and wet, and you look shocked. The expression is so opposite of the usual stern and stark that paints your face, so you appear surprisingly vulnerable. 

For a moment, neither of you say anything. You simply stand there, taking in each other, as Jimin asks himself the same question over and over again. What the fuck just happened? 

Unable to conjure up an answer to that, Jimin draws in a shaky breath. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” He whispers, immediately turning around and shoving open the door to the classroom and letting it slam shut behind him. He doesn’t look back, refuses to picture your expression in his mind because picturing it would make him second guess his decision. 

Instead, he maintains his quick pace down the hallway, ignoring the calls of his name by peers and friends. His gaze is hyper focused on being somewhere other than here. So much so that he ends up shouldering his way into the boy’s bathroom, pacing past the row of toilet doors until he reaches the sinks and mirrors along the edge. He goes to one of the sinks as his palms come up to grip both sides of the sink. His eyes flint up, gazing at his reflection and taking it all in: from the flush of his own cheeks, the deeper red tint of his lips, the craze look in his eyes—like he wants more. Like he wanted more of you.

With a scoff, he rips his gaze away from the mirror and instead turns around to lean against the edge of the sink. 

It’s not like he’s never kissed girls before. He has. Just never anyone who makes him as annoyed as you make him. This type of dynamic is new and involves unsure elements, a new game that he doesn’t know how to play. 

Apparently, it’s one you don’t know how to play either. 

.

It’s another three weeks of awkward stares, no eye contact, and one of you dashing out of classrooms first to avoid having to see each other in the hallway, until Professor McGonagall calls you back into her office. The space is naturally very reminiscent of the first meeting the three of you had together, but the tone is weighed down by tension and the obvious fact that you and Jimin are avoiding each other and have been avoiding each other for weeks. 

The fact that the two of you refuse to look at each other is the first sign of this emotional conflict. Pair that with the lack of snappy banter, and all that contributes to the raised eyebrow Professor McGonagall gives both of you. 

You look at Jimin out of the corner of your eye and seem to come to the conclusion that he isn’t going to participate. Which you are right, he has no intention of opening his mouth. 

“Is something the matter, Professor?” 

“I just thought I would have a little meeting to touch base with the both of you,” Professor McGonagall answers, shifting her gaze thoughtfully between you and Jimin. “I was seeing you hold meetings in the library on a few occasions, but there’s been an absence of that recently. During classes, I notice that neither of you engage in discussion and one of you is always the first to leave the room. Has there been a conflict of interest going on regarding the project?” 

Jimin exhales a breath, wondering if you were going to spill the beans. Not explicitly, but you’ll probably start talking about how recent developments made you feel too nervous or too cautious to continue working with him—that you’d rather stop, or that you’d rather have Jimin step down. The kiss had been his fault, after all. 

You take a few seconds to come up with your answer. “We were having some disagreements about the direction of the project,” You say at last, saying the words slowly and carefully and surprising Jimin. “So we haven’t talked for a little while, I think we just needed to collect our thoughts and come up with individual ideas, and then actually meet up and discuss rather than trying to grow something together.” 

Professor McGonagall nods at that. “I understand. Well, if that’s the case. It seems the only advice I could give you both is to work through your problems. In other words, figure it out. There’s a lot riding on this project.” 

The pair of you are then dismissed with a finality in her words. A warning. 

Unlike previous interactions like sharing class together or running into one another in the halls, neither of you make a move to separate to run away. You linger near each other, awkward still, knowing that you both need to make amends and move past the incident but not sure how to do so. 

“We should probably talk about this,” You say after a moment. You aren’t looking at him. 

Jimin thinks about this. He sighs. “You’re right. I know a spot we can talk.” Turning around, he starts down the hallway. Your shoes echo against the castle walls, the high ceilings and long hallways that twist and turn. It’s much later into the night—the dinner crowd has dispersed back to respected common rooms or to the library for last minute studies. As a result, most of the hallways are devoid of students. The hallway routes around Professor McGonagall’s office are even more empty, given that a lot of classes are not in this corner of the castle and most places don’t invite loiters. 

Jimin continues past closed doors, tall stained glass windows that bring in the moonlight. There’s a silence between you, not as awkward as it had been, but definitely filled with a veil of tension and lots of unanswered questions. 

Finally, Jimin stops at a door not unlike the several other doors the pair of you had passed in your quest to get here. You’re about to ask what he’s doing and where he’s leading you and if he plans to kidnap you—because this kind of location in this kind of space would be perfect—before he’s muttering a password under his breath and opening the door. He keeps it open for you to enter the space first. 

It’s a small classroom, only big enough to house a whiteboard at the end of the room, a long table right in front of the board, and a few desks in the middle for students. There’s a long window along the other side of the wall, and curtains draped in front of the glass. 

You turn to look at him. This place is too suspiciously perfect for private conversations. “What is this place?” 

“It’s a space for the Head Boy,” Jimin explains, closing the door behind him. “It kind of doubles as a private study and a place for Yoongi to run detentions. But he lets me come here sometimes when I need more privacy.” 

“So not only do you have professors up your ass, but the school’s Head Boy too?” You ask, whirling around to give him a judgmental glance.

“Don’t come in here just to insult me,” Jimin snaps back. “You’re pretty dead set on putting up walls; that doesn’t mean I’m not either. So, not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been friends with Yoongi for years. No ass kissing in that.” 

You stare at him for a moment longer before turning back to look at the room. “You’re right.” 

He figures it’s the best apology he’ll get from you. 

“Alright,” He says after a moment. He watches the way you turn around to face him. “I’m just gonna put this out here, because we need to get our shit together. I do apologize for kissing you. It was rash and inappropriate. If you want me to step down from the project, I’ll understand.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “By you understanding, does that mean you would step down?” 

Jimin stares at you. “Well, I mean, no, but it would be more of an incentive to talk about this.” 

“Of course,” You grumble, running a hand through your head. “Well, you’re in luck. I have no intention in asking you to step down from the project. I might even go as far to say that I think you’re mildly attractive, which is why I didn’t have a problem with you doing that.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear. I think you’re vaguely attractive too.” 

You nod. “Always reassuring to hear it like that.” 

“But see, this is good. We’re getting this out here,” Jimin says, gesturing between the two of you. “I kissed you because of this tension between us, but because it ended abruptly that tension never got any closure. We’re still in this limbo phase.” 

You keep your gaze on Jimin. You seem to be pondering his words. Somehow, he’s able to tell that you’re not entirely turned off by his conclusion—probably because you’re still standing close enough to him that your Hogwarts ropes were touching. “You make a good point.”

“Mm, well of course I do,” He says, keeping his gaze on you. “I’m Park Jimin.” 

You wrinkle your nose at that. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

He smirks, still looking at you, and shrugs a shoulder. “I should be able to flatter myself a little. I kissed you, didn’t get snapped out by you, so I’d consider it a worthy endeavor.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t waste your breath just yet,” You interrupt, voice growing progressively softer given the proximity. “I’m not sure if that should really count as a kiss considering the inappropriate and abrupt nature of it all.” 

At that, Jimin turns hot. “I already apologized for that.” 

You smile, a mere curl of your lips, as your hands find their place on his shoulders. At the gesture, his hands automatically go to your waist—a natural place, given the memory of the last time you had your hands around his neck. “And how about you ask to kiss me the way a normal person who is attracted to another person would ask—?” 

Your voice cuts off when Jimin shoves you even closer to him, bodies pressed against one another. “You really know how to be a brat, don’t you?” 

Your smile widens. You lean towards him, nose brushing against his. “I don’t see you asking, Park Jimin—!” 

He shuts you up by slamming his lips against yours. Fingers curl around the back of your neck to keep you in place. He kisses you roughly, lips pushing against yours and sucking the air from your lungs. He pulls away moments later, lips still brushing against one another, heavy breathing filling his ears. “For someone claiming I needed permission to kiss you, you definitely know how to keep your mouth shut to help me get what I want.” 

You groan. “You really have to have the last word in everything, don’t you?” 

“Not true.” 

You sigh, digging your nails into the nape of his neck. You kiss him this time, parting your lips right away as Jimin becomes distracted with sliding his tongue into your mouth. His desire for control comes up again, stepping forward and continuing to move with every step backwards you take. 

Hitting the teacher’s desk at the front of the room is so unlike the last time. The scrap of the metal against the floor had awoken Jimin from the reality of what could have happened—but now it heightens his senses, leaves his heart racing because he knows what will happen next and he desires nothing more. 

Eyes still closed, he uses his hand to leave your waist and feel down the length of your skirt. He confirms that he’s reached the hem by tugging at the end of the fabric. “I hate this thing,” He growls. “You’re always making it sway when you walk, always drawing attention to this damn piece of clothing.” 

You smirk against his lips. “I made you look, though…” You trail off, voice pitching into a sigh when Jimin pulls away from your mouth. Immediately, he kisses at your jawline, down your neck. “Jimin—ee!” You squeal as Jimin’s hands go from on top of your skirt to underneath, fingers dancing up your bare thigh. “I thought you were going to fuck me.” 

The actual four letter word makes Jimin groan, makes his blood boil, makes his slacks feel a little tighter. “What happened to asking?” 

“Oh, because you were so good at that—!” You choke, the breath catching in your throat as you jump at the sensation of Jimin’s fingers pressing against your clothed clit. Your eyes develop a foggy complexion. 

“What was that?” Jimin asks, smirking at the dazed look across your features. Seeing you look like this is so different and intriguing, considering the rarity of seeing you off your guard. He wonders how far he can take it, how much he can do to make sure it’s not words of insult that are passing lips. 

You press your lips together, shaking your head. The whimper comes back as Jimin starts drawing circles against the bundle of nerves, slow paced but small movements. The fabric of your panties are thin, enough so that he can feel your clit, and enough to come to the realization that you’re—! 

“Wet,” Jimin grumbles. 

Your cheeks heat at the realization, something you hadn’t even been entirely sure of yourself. 

Jimin leans forward to peck your lips once, twice. “It’s hot.” He deepens the kiss, distracting you as his finger curls around the underside of your panties.

You suck in a breath as he runs a finger up and down your slit before sinking a finger into your heat. “Nn—Jimin,” You whisper, moving one of your arms to curl the fingers around his bicep. It’s a shallow thrusting of his finger, more about preparation and feeling than actually trying to make you cum. But the sensation floods your nerves all the same. 

“You’re so hot, I can only just imagine what this’ll feel like wrapped around my cock,” Jimin comments hoarsely, pulling his one finger out. The next time he slides in, it’s two fingers and the slight stretch makes your eyes squeeze together. 

“J-Jimin,” You choke out. The wet sounds of friction between your legs begins to fill the room. “That feels so good, fuck…” 

“Mm, does it now?” Jimin inquires softly. With every upward movement of his fingers into your pussy, the sensation of your walls tightening against his digits goes entirely to his head. It feels like he’s making mental notes of your reactions. You’re a sensitive little thing, and it’s a fact he really wouldn’t mind testing out more. “You still want me to fuck you?” 

“Yes, yes, I do, come here,” You urge softly, bringing him forward to kiss you again. 

Slowly, his fingers slide out of you, and you whimper at the emptiness he’s leaving you behind with. His hands leave from in between your thighs, traveling out of your skirt and resting at your waist. Without a warning, he hoists you up onto the desk. He moves you back just enough to give you instructions: 

“Put your feet on the table for me.” 

Legs twitching slightly, you do as you’re told. Your heels rest on the edge of the desk. At the gesture, the hem of your skirt moves downwards, flashing your panties right at Jimin. He has a momentary flashback to that first meeting in the library—your legs spread atop a chair, the skirt casting a shadow between your legs. 

Now, he no longer has to wallow in that curiosity. Black panties flash right in his line of sight, and his dick feels even more constrained as he steps forward and reaches out to tuck his fingers underneath the waistband. With a nod from you, he pulls the fabric up and down your legs, and past your shoes. He pockets the material. 

You notice the action immediately. “Need a spank bank collection, Park?” 

At that, he shrugs, even though both of you know the answer to that. “Depends on how good this is,” He says casually. You and Jimin know this is a lie. He already knows this is going to be good. Above anything, the tent in his pants is a clear giveaway to that. You watch as he pulls his belt from out of the belt loops, tugs the leather off of his waist. He barely brings his pants down, he just reaches in and comes back out with his cock, pretty and leaking at the tip. His thumb brushes at it, spreading the pre-cum across his length. 

You whine at the sight, tossing your head back slightly as your legs come out to drag Jimin towards you by the waist. “I’ve seen enough, please fuck me, please—!” You whimper as Jimin pulls your legs off his waist. He brings his arms underneath your legs, bending it at the knees as he inches forward to rest his hands on the table. Untouched, his dick hovers right where you want him the most, and you whine again. 

“I’m just preparing, baby,” He explains softly, almost patronizingly, but you don’t seem to mind the tone. “Don’t want to hurt you before I even get the chance to fuck you.” 

“You’ll never know until you put—it—in—oh!” You gasp, the tip of Jimin’s dick hovering at your entrance. One of Jimin’s hands moves from underneath your leg to wrap around the base of his cock, running it up and down your folds. He takes one last look at your expression: wide eyes and parted lips, before he looks back down between your legs. He watches as his cock disappears between your folds, immediately enveloping him in your hot, tight walls, a pressure that increases when you clench around him. 

Jimin grunts, tilting his head back. “Fuck, you’re tight.” 

You’re breathing heavily now. Your arms are resting behind you to keep you level, allowing your fingers to tighten around the edges of the desk. Your toes curl in your shoes. “Jimin—shit.” You jolt slightly when Jimin’s hand moves from the base of his dick to your clit. His thumb rests on the nub, immediately drawing circles against the nerves to relax you through the stretch. You whine, a noise from the back of your throat that makes the blood rush even quicker through Jimin’s body. It fills him with a desire to fill you up, to make you scream. 

He continues to push in until he reaches the hilt, the feeling of you around him is so snug and warm that he cannot help his own groan. His finger moves from your clit and curls around the knee of your unoccupied leg. Using his arm to keep your knee bent, his hand travels back to its original position on the desk, allowing both of your legs to be spread apart for him. 

Jimin looks up towards you, leaning forward to kiss you. “You still with me?” 

You nod. “Yes, fuck, you can fuck me now.” 

The permission makes his head spin as he nods. “Fuck, okay.” He begins to pull away until all that’s left inside you is his tip. With a snap of his hips, he drives himself back into you. 

The full sensation against your walls lights up your nerves, allowing it to pass through your entire body as your legs twitch and you throw your head back. “Fuck,” You whisper, mostly to yourself as your walls start to tighten and untighten at the sensation. 

This, in turn, drives a choke from Jimin’s throat. “Stop clenching around me!” 

You level your gaze with Jimin’s once more, but you have a hazy look in your eyes. “Gonna prove to me that you’re a one dump pump or something, Park?” 

He stares at you, long and hard. “I’m gonna make you regret saying that.” He pulls out again, all the way to the tip, and thrusts back in sharply. You gasp. But it doesn’t stop this time. He picks a pace, not too fast but he goes deep. The snark in your eyes is gone. The noises in your throat are no longer words but noises instead: whimpers and whines. 

The coil starts to tighten in your belly. “J-Jimin,” You wail, using what little strength you have in your arms to push yourself into a straighten sitting position. This brings you closer to Jimin. Without a warning, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the collar of his robes. It seems like this is to muffle the sounds coming from your throat. “Ngh, Jimin, feels so good, fuck…” 

His fingers curl around the edges of the desk as he picks up the pace. Your knees start to twitch above his arms. “You trying to escape me, sweetheart?” He asks right in your ear, breath against your neck. “Look at you. You just have to take what I give you.” That’s true. He’s keeping your legs spread, leaving you unable to escape or move away. 

You’re gasping now. “Jimin, I’m gonna come.” 

Jimin hums, pulling his hand away from your arm once again and returning his fingers to your clit. When he rubs at you this time, it’s quicker and faster and you clamp up immediately. “Then come.” 

“Mmmm,” You sob, arching your back right into his body. For a brief moment, everything is tight, hot, and overwhelming, before the coil snaps and you wither in his arms. One of your own hands slam down onto the desk, as you try to grip onto the smooth surface of the table either to give you a new sense of bearings or pull away from him, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t acknowledge it either, too focused on thrusting into you until he’s finding his own release. 

He grunts, pushing into you until he’s at the hilt as he spills himself into you. The blood is no longer in Jimin’s ear, no longer drowning up the sounds of pleasure and desperation. Instead, it fills the air with the sounds: the gasps and heavy breathing. You, halfway lying on the desk. And Jimin, hovering closely over you, still joined together.

“Shit,” You whisper, untangling your other hand from Jimin’s neck and freeing you to lie entirely on the surface of the table. Jimin watches you carefully, gently putting down your legs so they can rest against the table. 

“Lift your bottom for me,” Jimin instructs, lifting the hem of your skirt up to bunch the fabric at your waist. With your entire bottom exposed, he’s able to see himself inside you all over again. Slowly, he pulls himself out. You whimper at that. But Jimin doesn’t say anything. He watches, throat dry, as he watches the white substance of his cum spill out of you. He reaches out, collecting it around his finger, before going back up to your slit and pushing his finger into you. 

You arch your back at that, crying out softly at the overstimulation. You push yourself to your elbows, watching him sink his finger back into you. “What are you doing?” You ask breathlessly. 

“Trying to make as small a mess as possible,” Jimin explains, pushing his finger in as far as it could go. “You wanna go back to the common room with stains over your robes?” 

You stare at him, some of that haziness gone and replaced with your usual thoughtful expression. “You make a good point.” 

Jimin is able to wipe the rest of the stains on the sleeves of his white polo, something that will be hidden underneath his robes. He watches as you hop off the desk, smoothing down your skirt and down your hair.

You look over at him. “How do I look?” 

He gives a careful once-over. “How about this: if I saw you in the hallway, I wouldn’t have assumed you just got fucked.” 

The corner of your lips curl up. “Well, that’s probably as good as it’ll get—!” 

“Plus I’m sure other people don’t have the same observational skills as I do, so you’re probably fine.” 

“There it is.” 

“And how was it?” Jimin asks as he opens the door to the classroom and allows you to walk back into the hallway of the castle first. “Do you think we got that closure to the tension?” 

“We are talking,” You point out as you walk side-by-side with Jimin. “And you don’t have that look in your eyes anymore.” 

He stops at that. “What look?” 

You stop alongside him and give him a smirk. “That strained look, like the one you gave me before you kissed me.” 

Allowing your eyes to linger on each other for a moment longer, you break that connection by turning your head and continuing down the hallway. 

.

For someone so good at calculating and organizing his life, Park Jimin missed out a whole factor in his equation to success at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

That factor is you. 

Now, he’s had his fair share of flings, makeout sessions, and sexual encounters with members of the female population. Of course he has. He isn’t friends with jocks like Jeon Jungkook or pranksters like Jung Hoseok for nothing—he’s been to those parties in the Room of Requirement and has held up his own in conversations with flirtatious qualms. As someone who trumps logic over emotion, it has never been hard for Jimin to set aside his emotions when something is meant to be a one time thing. 

But you. You. You. He really hasn’t accounted for you to linger about in his life the way you have. Mostly, he hasn’t accounted to think about your insults, your sighs, and your whimpers the way he actually has. 

It’s hard to tell if you’re feeling the same way. When you’re in study labs together for any class such as charms, muggle studies, or astronomy, he could always swear that your gaze would linger on him for moments too long before switching away. When you two are paired up for potions, the conversations are vague and pertain to the lessons, but it all feels layered with something new. A new unspoken desire, perhaps? 

He can’t really get a read on the situation, and that’s the most frustrating aspect of it all. 

“Park Jimin?” It’s Professor McGonagall’s voice, one that startles Jimin out of his trance. Jung Jaehyun ducks to hide his laughter. 

Jimin blinks, looking up to realize that Professor McGonagall is standing right in front of him, a stack of parchment in her arms and a curious look in her eyes. He’s currently in the middle of his transfiguration lesson. The professor raises an eyebrow, but still pulls a parchment from the stack and passes it down to him. A -1 stares him back up at him, and Jimin feels his heart beat. Although this score is for a mere homework assignment, the grade seems like a weight on his shoulders. 

“Is that a minus one, Park?” Jaehyun asks, leaning over and getting into Jimin’s space. “On a homework assignment? What happened there?” 

Jimin looks over the assignment. “I guess I didn’t add enough detail to one of my answers.” He looks back at Jaehyun, watching Professor McGonagall hand him his graded assignment. The corner of his lips quirk up. “You’re one to talk, Jung. Minus five? You better keep your grades up if you want to stay on the House Team.” 

“Hey, you should see JK’s grades,” Jaehyun retorts. “I swear, that boy was hanging by a thread on some of the recent assignments. Did you know he didn’t even realize he had an astronomy essay due for class until that waitress at the Three Broomsticks had to remind him?” 

Jimin grins. “That I remember. You’ve done good keeping an eye on your competition.” Almost unconsciously, he finds himself flinting his gaze towards you only to find that you’re staring right back at him. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. Just from a look, Jimin knows what you’re asking him. What did you get?

Feeling vaguely embarrassed about his score, he shrugs. Instead of answering, he jerks his chin towards you. What about you? 

You seem to know the reason behind his desire to keep his score a secret from you. You smirk, turning over your parchment and flashing it towards him. A -0 reads at the top. “Pretty good, huh?” You mouth to him. 

Jimin flicks his wand underneath the desk. A gust of wind comes out and the parchment flies forward to smack you on the face. 

A burst of laughter rings through the classroom as Professor McGonagall whirls around. Having not seen the events leading up to the smack, she narrows her eyes at you. “Miss. Y/N, I don’t believe your perfect grade called for a hit to the face.” 

You sink into your seat just enough. “Sorry professor,” You grumble, turning to give the side eye to Jimin. 

He is wrong to think that you wouldn’t do anything about his little spell. 

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” You ask as soon as you catch up to Jimin after class is dismissed. Ever since the “Tension-Easing Experiment”, as Jimin liked to label it and no it wasn’t something he had run by you since you’re both not really eager to brush on that topic in detail ever since it had happened, you’ve both been pleasant enough to each other. This conversation starter falls under that list. “Casting spells on me, I thought that task belonged to Jung Hoseok.” 

“Perhaps I have learned a thing or two from him.” 

You hum at that. “Guess there are some things you can’t fully grasp just from reading textbooks all day.” 

He glares at you. “Did you need something today?” 

You look back at him. “We have our weekly project meet-up.” 

He blinks. “What weekly project meet-up?”��

“Well, when Professor McGonagall gave us the assignment, we were meeting up once a week to exchange ideas,” You say slowly. “We stopped because…” 

Oh right, I kissed you in the astronomy lab room, Jimin thinks when you trail off. 

You clear your throat. “But since we’re talking again…” 

Because we had sex. 

“I figured it was as good a time as ever to get back into it. Besides, I do have an idea I’d figure I should bounce off of you.” 

Jimin stares at you for a moment. Takes in your eyes, your lips, your robe and the clothes you’ve gone on underneath the thick material. You’ve got your hair up into a half-up-half-down ponytail today. Dare he say, you look nice today. “Alright then. Should we go to the library?” 

“Actually…” You cut in, shrugging and not meeting Jimin’s eye this time around. “I was thinking we could go back to your friend’s private study room? Since we are talking, and it is exam season. You know, I wouldn’t want to disrupt the other students trying to go over their class material.” 

This is true. Midterm season at Hogwarts is underway and lots of peers are starting to lose the light in their eyes. There seems to be a hidden weight in your words, plagued with an idea of ulterior motives, but Jimin is suddenly taken by curiosity to mind. “Uh—right. Sure. Pretty sure Yoongi isn’t running a detention today.” 

Even if Yoongi had assigned a detention, which he probably did considering this was Min Yoongi, it was unlikely he’d use his private study. In fact, Jimin vaguely recalls Yoongi saying he had a meeting. So he leads the way down the hallways and past the large windows. The pathway is familiar to him, given how many times he’s taken this route, and it’s not long before he’s uttering the password under his breath and entering the space. 

It’s empty when he enters. Actually, it’s hard to tell if Yoongi had even used this office during the days between the “Tension-Easing Experiment” and today. Not that it matters, as you and Jimin push two desks together and take a seat. You slide your robe off this time and rest it at the back of your chair. 

“Alright, so what’s this idea of yours?” 

You lean back in the chair. “It’s brilliant, if you ask me.” 

He smirks. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

You smile slightly at that, turning back towards your desk and curling a finger around your hair. “I thought we might as well keep it simple and play to our strengths.” You look at him. “You’re known being this really charming guy, and from what I understand you’re friends with lots of different guys who are talented in their own unique ways. I think we need to split our presentation into two parts. Your section would be talking about growing up at Hogwarts—how you’ve made your group of friends and how you’ve centered yourself in activities and conversations. Then I’ll come in and talk about how despite transferring during the last year of school, everyone and everything is really adjustable and nice about being a new student.” 

“Hm.” Jimin ponders this. You’ve figured out a way to take what he had mentioned, albeit jokingly, and organize a way for you to be involved yet still be connected to his original topic. “It’s not bad, you can be smart sometimes when you want to be.” 

“I’m always smart—a lot smarter than you, so it seems,” You return back. You angle the chair towards Jimin and sit back. “Speaking of, what happened with your homework assignment today? Didn’t want to show off your own -0? Or perhaps did you get extra credit out of thin air?” 

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Jimin snaps. “Contrary to that, I actually got marked off a point. Forgot to add some details to one of my answers, so it was a minor thing.” 

“The Park Jimin I know doesn’t forget to add minor details to his answers,” You point out. “What’s up with you? Does Professor McGonagall have to pull you from the project, and leave me as the sole smartest and brightest student at Hogwarts despite only being here for a month and a half?” 

“I think your critical thinking skills have to be checked,” He retorts, but it’s a half-hearted attempt to start an argument. You’re much more observant than you let on, if you’ve taken note of his behavior despite not really being his friend. Getting marked off points for minor details is something both of you have been guilty of on rare occasions, so the fact that you still notice something off leaves a strange feeling in his stomach. 

Jimin stares at you for a moment longer, only to find you staring back. Should he indulge you on the thoughts floating around in his head? Would it be worth it? 

When you raise an eyebrow, it gives him enough courage to open his mouth. 

“Actually, I have a hypothetical situation I’d like to go over with you.” 

You don’t say anything to that. It’s a sign to keep talking. 

“Say you’ve just slept with someone because you thought it would quell that seemingly moment’s sparks of attraction,” He starts. “But it’s been a few days, and you, hypothetically, can’t stop thinking about that moment. As in, you wouldn’t find sleeping with that person again. Do you indulge that curiosity? Or just leave it be, assuming that the person doesn’t feel the same about you?” 

Something flickers in your eyes. “Hm, I’m not sure, you’re being so vague it’s really hard to tell who you’re talking about.” 

He groans at that. “You’re being a brat again.” 

“You must enjoy that, don’t you?” You say back right away. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be thinking about trying to sleep with me again. Unless you ‘quell momentary sparks of attraction’ with other girls on a daily basis.” 

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He retorts. “You like to think you have all this control over this situation and my feelings, but who was it that was begging me to fuck them just a few nights ago?” 

You laugh a little. “You got a point. But who still fucked me after that begging?” 

He’s quiet for a moment. “Do you really want to play that game, sweetheart?” 

You keep your gaze on him. “What game am I playing, Park Jimin?” 

Jimin looks right back at you. After a moment, he wraps his fingers underneath his chair and angles himself so that he can face you. He reaches forward until his hand rests on your thigh, right above the hem of your skirt. “Well, I have something in mind, if you’re willing to hear it.” When you don’t pull back, he continues. “Since you seem set on this idea that you’re in charge, I think I should prove to you otherwise.” 

He watches the way your jaw clenches at that. 

“First, I would ask you to slide off your panties and your skirt this time, so there’s nothing in the way of me fucking you this time,” He spells out, keeping his eyes on you for signs of slippage. The slight twitch of your thigh is the first tell. “Then, I’d get behind you, turn you around, and press you against this very desk.” He taps the desk you’re sitting in front of. “Depending on how bratty you decide to be, I’ll find a way to keep you where I want you to be. If you’re still a brat, only one of us will be finishing today—and I will tell you right now that it won’t be you.” He leans forward towards you, your eyes flickering towards his lips. “Just tell me no. Tell me you’re not interested and that you don’t look at me the same way. I’ll back off.” 

You swallow thickly at that. “What if I don’t want you to back off?” 

Things happen very quickly after the question leaves your lips. You’re the one who leans forward, you’re the one who kisses Jimin first. He responds immediately after, pulling you up by your waist until you’re straddling his lap. Gently biting at your lower lip, Jimin still has enough wit to kick the chair you were sitting on away from the desk. It scraps against the classroom floor, a noise that goes loudly unheard of over the roaring of blood in Jimin’s ears. 

Jimin pushes you off his lap, forcing you back onto your feet with Jimin following behind shortly after. You barely have time to adjust before his hands are on your waist to spin you around and pin you onto the desk in front of you. 

Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. “Look at you, little girl,” He says. The nickname brings color to your cheeks. “You talk a big game but I think when it comes to it, you like being told what to do.” After he’s gotten you settled into position, his hands leave its original position to reach the zipper of the skirt at the small of your back. “Well, since I’ve riled you up this much, we might as well follow through on one of my check-ins, huh?” 

His fingers slowly drag down the zipper of your skirt, each movement downwards rings like a bell. Jimin is so close behind you that you can feel his warmth radiating into your body, your legs. He doesn’t take his time. He pulls down the skirt and your panties until they drop at your ankles. 

A finger lingers at your entrance, checking. Jimin makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Looks like me spelling out what I was going to do to you was more effective than I thought.” 

You whine, pressing your cheek into the wood of the desk. “You don’t always have to report it like that!” 

Jimin stills at that. For a moment, the tense silence makes you think that you’ve said something wrong. But all thoughts fly out of the window when Jimin brings his hand down to slap against the back of your thigh. The gesture isn’t too hard or too loud, but it’s enough to make you whimper. “You trying to out-smart me again?” 

“N-No, I’m sorry,” You stammer, probably having a brief flashback to his threat about not letting you finish off. 

Still, Jimin scoffs. “You seem to think today will end up just like the first time: where you tell me what to do and I’ll do it—would you agree with me?” 

You clench and Jimin feels it with his fingers. “Not intentionally.” 

“Hm.” Jimin ponders, both of his hands leaving your frame to tug at the tie around his neck. He loosens it and brings the thin fabric down towards you. “I think we should really establish that I’m the one in charge today. Give me your hands.” 

Your neck turns slightly to try and catch his eye. “Jimin—!” 

“Hands, c’mon little girl, I thought you could follow directions.” Nevermind that this is probably the first time you’ve said his first name as a standalone and there’s something really intimate about that. 

You don’t say anything to that, you merely shift your body weight so you are able to rest your hands on your back. Jimin takes your wrists, bringing them together, and loops the fabric of his tie around them. Tight enough that there’s no way you could escape from it, but loose enough to provide some wiggle room. Once your wrists are secure in the tie, Jimin tugs on it to ensure it won’t undo itself. 

“This okay?” Jimin asks, albeit a little softly, but his question brings the ghost of a smile across your lips. 

You nod. “Yes.” 

“Alright then.” There’s the sound of his belt becoming undone, his fingers pulling his cock out of his pants. He lines himself up, his fingers guiding the way before he’s pushing in. The stretch is a little tighter than it had been the last time due to lack of proper foreplay. But there’s enough to get by. 

The stretch makes you feel him all the way in your gut, making your head spin as a groan emits from your throat. Your fingers curl into fists at the small of your back. “Fuck,” You let out between teeth as you shut your eyes, knowing that you just have to take what Jimin is giving you. 

Soon, the room fills with the softest grunts and groans, the desk rocking in time with his thrusts. His hands stay on his tie, on your wrists, where your fingers curl around his hand—whether for reassurance or to hold onto something solid, it’s hard to tell. 

All that matters is that Jimin notices and his heart races for something other than the physicality of what is going on. 

. 

That day in the classroom seems to create a new label in Jimin’s relationship with you. Given that both of you have seen the other person naked (twice), it brings a new level of casualness between the two of you.

It shows in how Jimin slides rather gracefully into the library, rolls of parchment in his bag and a smirk across his features. He finds you rather quickly, right by the window in a secluded part of the space, and has no problem approaching you and slapping the top of his parchment on your desk. It lands right on top of your books and your own roll of parchment. 

There’s a pause. “If the ink on my roll wasn’t dry, I will honestly not hesitant to stab your eye out,” You say right away. 

“Charming,” Jimin returns, sitting in the vacant chair next to you. “But I just wanted to show you something. We got our grades back for that Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. As you can see, here’s my plus two extra credit score at the top.” 

“What?” You react immediately, leaning over your desk to catch a glimpse of the score. “Damn, what the fuck. How’d you get two extra credit points?” 

Jimin is grinning. “What’d you get then?” 

You give him a side glare. “One point five?” 

“Wow.” Jimin places a hand on his heart. “Did I beat you on an assignment?” 

Your side glare has evolved into a full glare.. “As classy as that brag was, beating me on one assignment doesn’t reclaim your place as the smartest student at this school.” You brush some of the hair out of your face as you turn in your seat. “But I guess there’s no harm in congratulating you for this one. Do you want a celebratory blow job?” 

Jimin’s heart stutters in his chest at the words. He does whiplash at your question. “I-I’m sorry, what?” 

You grin. “A little nervous there, Park Jimin?” 

“W-Well no, I just…” He trails off, trying to collect his bearings, trying to make sure that he hadn’t misheard you. “I-I think I wasn’t able to catch what you said…” 

“No, I think you heard me pretty clearly.” You’re right. He had heard you perfectly. After all, there’s no reason for him to have not heard you clearly. You’re both in the library for goodness sake—not just the library but a quiet section of the library. “I just figured you want some sort of congratulatory gesture on my part, since we have a little competition going on between the two of us. You scored better today, so I’ll blow you.” You pause for a moment. “Unless you don’t want me to blow you, and you asking questions like this is just you trying to deflect…” 

“No! I mean…” He sets his teeth when your grin widens. “Shut up, you’re so annoying.” 

“You’re not saying no,” You point out. 

“Of course I’m not. Get your stuff, we’re going.” He grabs your wrist as soon as you’ve packed up your school supplies, and he doesn’t let go. 

Your laughter echoes all the way down the hallway. 

.

It continues like this. In terms of your social relationship with Jimin, it turns into a rivalry boosted by sexual encounters. Depending on who scored better on tests, essays, or homework would get to lead the sex in the empty Head Boy classroom near the abandoned corners of the castle. The atmosphere between you two, while still plagued with banter, has turned into something more light-hearted and conversations have lower defenses. 

That’s what one gets after seeing the other person naked for weeks on end. 

The improvement in your relationship leads to more open conversations about the project, something that Professor McGonagall has noticed an improvement in. 

She says this after calling you and Jimin in for a meeting. It’s the beginning of November now, and the weather has cooled down and the sky reflects the bleeker tone in its dark shades of gray. You and Jimin have been in this strange relationship for about a month and a half now, and you didn’t think there would be any physical changes, until the professor opens her mouth. 

“I have to say, Ms. Y/N and Mr. Park, that I’ve noticed you two taking more enjoyment in each other’s company. It’s rather refreshing to look at, considering the way you guys used to always be at each other’s throats beforehand.” 

“Definitely agree, in more ways than one,” Jimin says, and you kick him under the table. 

The meeting with the professor is short. It’s more of a touching base encounter if anything, where you’re explaining the details of your presentation and continue going more into detail about what each of you will be covering. It ends soon after, with a parting ‘just keep going with what you’re doing’ before both of you are dismissed from the office. 

“That went well,” You report as you’re exiting the office together. It’s the middle of the afternoon on a considerably bright Thursday morning, so the castle is a little more alive today with activity. Most students are outside, taking advantage of the sunny weather to sit around in the courtyard or have a picnic or study session with friends on the grass. These are the options that are available to you and Jimin, considering your classes are done for the day and you have nothing else scheduled. Except to study and keep working on essays and study guides. 

“I’m glad it’s going well for her, at the very least,” Jimin grunts, rolling his shoulder as he tilts his neck back. “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” 

You shrug. “Not sure.” You narrow your eyes at him. He never really asks you this question unless—“Do we have a meeting in Yoongi’s office?” 

‘Meeting in Yoongi’s office’ is the key phrase the pair of you coined to replace the much more lewd question: “Did you want to fuck?” Not only is the former much safer, but it keeps away those unsafe, unwanted, dangerous questions. All of which are things that neither of you want to answer. Neither of you would probably know the answer to them anyways. 

Normally, Jimin isn’t shameless about what he wants. When he’s straightforward, he’s eager and demanding and doesn’t like to beat around the bush. You’ve walked out of that classroom with bruises on your neck and a wobble in your knees to prove that. This time, however, feels different. He smirks. “Sweetheart, we had a meeting yesterday.” Translation: we fucked yesterday. 

You raise an eyebrow, not acknowledging the nickname. It’s normal in your conversations together, anyways. “When has that ever stopped you before?” 

“Touche.” He pauses, and runs a hand through his hair. “But we shouldn’t today. I have an essay for our History of Magic class that I haven’t started.” 

“Isn’t that due tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, I’m aware of that,” Jimin protests. “Listen, I’ve been helping JK with that waitress.” 

You bite your lip, vaguely aware of the aforementioned Jungkook and that waitress from the Three Broomsticks. Jimin refuses to spill any details to you. “How’s that going?” 

He adjusts the strap of his bag. “She showed up to his Quidditch practice yesterday, which was a plus.” 

“Not entirely a plus, it seems. You have a whole ass essay to work on. At this point, it seems like I’ll be in charge of the agenda for the upcoming meeting.” The quirk at the corner of your lips grows slightly. 

Jimin smirks, reaching over to tap your nose. “Don’t get cocky, sweetheart.” 

You try to ignore the gesture. He’s been getting more handsy with you, ever since he pinned you down on the desk and tied your hands at your back. You look away from him. “Well, regarding what my plans are,” You start. “I should get started on the upcoming Transfiguration report.” 

He nods. “Seems like we’re both in for rough afternoons.” He pauses. He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture he only does when he’s pondering something. “How about we suffer together?” 

You blink, having not expected that question from him. You did spend a lot of time together, provided all the hours that go into planning the big project and ‘attending Yoongi’s meetings’, as Jimin liked to say, but studying with each other was never on that list. “Do you mean, like, we study together?” 

“Hey, if it was such a stupid idea then you should have stopped me immediately,” Jimin retorts, turning red with embarrassment. 

“I didn’t say it was a stupid idea!” You say back, eyes wide. “I don’t mind us studying together.” 

“Well, that’s really great because I—!” Jimin cuts himself off, clearly not having processed your last sentence before opening his mouth. He looks at you, as it sinks in that you’ve accepted his offer to study together. “Alright, okay, cool. You wanna go to the library?” 

You laugh. “Sure, but I gotta ask something. How could I even stop you, since I didn’t know you were trying to ask me on a date?” 

He surprises you with a step forward, as he wraps an arm around you and pinches your waist. “I’m not asking you on a date. You’re annoying.” 

“And what of it?” You shoot back. You aren’t really expecting an answer, and Jimin doesn’t give you one. Yet, there’s no awkward pause because of it. It’s still just you and Jimin, and it stays that way as you both walk to the library and maintain a casual conversation about your assignments and outside activities. 

. 

It’s the middle of December when you scribble on the final flashcard and practically slam your quill onto the table. Jimin jumps slightly, but his startled expression eases into a slight smile when you hunch over and press your head into the desk. “Finished?” 

“Finished,” You repeat, lifting your head back up and looking at the array of notes and organized flashcards that are scattered across the table. Each flashcard is covered from top to bottom in your handwriting, all meant to help guide your speech for the project you have spent months agonizing over. No stone is left unturned, every single aspect of your experience is covered upon, per the request of Professor McGonagall. 

Immediately, you move to collect your flashcards and ensure that they are in the proper order. The little numbers you have written in the top of the parchment help with that. 

There’s another silence that overtakes the air, but it’s a comfortable one. It’s filled with the scratches of Jimin’s quill against his own parchment, it’s filled with the crumbling sound of papers stacking atop one another as you organize your flashcards. Once they’re all together, you look at the top piece of parchment. “Even with a late enrollment that brings you to Hogwarts in your last year, the welcoming environment makes the transition to different classes, social groups, and activities extremely easy and exciting…” You read quietly to yourself. 

After a few minutes, Jimin puts his own quill down. It’s much gentler than what you had done a few seconds ago, but it’s still more than enough to fix your attention on him. 

“Finished?” You ask him. 

He nods, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. The locks are slightly overgrown by now, which leaves his hair in strands that stick up all over the place. 

“Is it perfect?” You ask. 

Jimin tilts his head back. Your eyes linger on the column of his throat before returning back to your notes. “Honestly, we’ve gone through so much editing and revisions that I would just throw myself off the astronomy tower if it wasn’t perfect.” 

You laugh slightly. “That’s true…” 

“You look nervous,” Jimin notes, placing his elbow on the table and resting his head in the palm. “Worried about impressing daddy at the Ministry?” 

You close your eyes and let out a huff. “Why do you have to say it like that?” 

“Am I wrong?” 

You sigh. “I mean technically you’re not.” 

He feigns an over dramatic gasp that earns him the attention of some other students littered around the library. “So I was right this whole time! What the fuck!” 

“Jimin, keep your voice down,” You hiss. “Why don’t you ask that Namjoon friend of yours to publish a whole article about it while you’re at it?” 

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea—OW!” Jimin jumps when you suddenly reach over to pinch his thigh. He flashes a guilty look to the other students around him who shoot glares that could kill. After a moment of apologetic expressions and mouthing ‘sorry’ to anyone who would listen, he turns back to you. “You’re really going to get it tonight.” 

“During our meeting with Yoongi, you mean?” You ask back, giggling into your palm. 

He shakes his head and goes back to his flashcards. “You better watch yourself, sweetheart.” He pauses for a second, watching you out of the corner of his eye before he resumes his attention back on you. “So what does your dad do at the Ministry?” 

You look at him, thinking about how you’re going to answer for a second before you sigh. It’s probably because Jimin actually addressed your father as ‘your dad’ as opposed to ‘daddy’. “He works in the Department of Magical Education. That’s why he asked that I be a part of the presentation group. It helped that I was one of the top students at my old school.” 

Jimin is quiet for a moment. 

It’s long enough for you to kick him underneath the table. “Why ask me if you’re not going to ask anything?” 

He looks away. “It’s not that—I guess I wasn’t expecting you to actually tell me.” 

“Oh.” You stop, turning red. “W-Well,” You continue, staring holes into the table in front of you. “I-I guess we’re f-friends?” 

Jimin smirks. “Friends, huh?” 

“Don’t make me regret saying that!” 

“Hm.” Jimin hums. “So, your dad works in the Magical Education Department. Is that why you transferred to Hogwarts?” 

“You could say that…” 

He whines your name, scooting closer to you to wrap his arms around you. “Hey, you can give me a straight answer. I thought we were friends.” 

You make a noise of protest in the back of your throat, nevermind the way he’s so natural about his physical touches with you. “Fine, fine, yes, his new job is the reason why we transferred. Now let go of me, you’re going to get us kicked out of here!” 

“Let Madam Pince kick us out, we’re basically done with our project anyways.” But he does let go of you, the finality of your words probably that pusher. He does not, however, move away from you. He keeps an arm curled around the back of your chair. “You going home for Christmas break?” 

“Yeah,” You say, not saying anything about his still close proximity. “I do miss my parents—plus I’m sure my father would want to hear about how the presentation will go.”  

He nods. “Sounds like it’ll be a stressful Christmas.” 

You look at him. “What will you be up to, Park Jimin? Sneaking through the restricted section?” 

He pouts. “I don’t need to sneak through it—I’m not a first-year. I can actually get a note from a professor. Dark Arts is cool to read about.” 

“If you say so,” You tease back. “Anything else?” 

“Well, there’s actually a party I’m throwing with my friends to celebrate making it up to this point. It’ll be in the Room of Requirements.” He ponders the next thought for a moment. “You should come.” 

You blink. “I’m going home for the holidays?” 

“No, you dork.” Jimin flicks your forehead. “The party will be before the holiday break starts—so everyone who wants to go can enjoy one fun thing before going back home.” 

You tilt your head. “That sounds exciting. But, well, I’m not a huge drinker. It should be fun for you, though.” 

He pouts again. “What if I wanted you to come? What do I have to do to convince you?” 

You give him a look. “Nothing, Park Jimin, I’m not a party person.” 

“You really are,” Jimin agrees, sliding away, looking disappointed in your answer. “I hope you’ll be able to sleep tonight knowing you just crushed all my dreams.” 

You roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Park Jimin. What’s this about?” 

He shrugs. “I thought it’d be cool to see you do something fun for once in your life.” 

“Wow, he’s dramatic and rude,” You say, watching as he smiles a little at your usage of his pronoun despite the fact that he is right here in front of you. 

“Well, I guess I just have to accept your answer,” Jimin says after a moment, leaning back in his chair. “You’ll be missing out. I think Hoseok is pulling out all the stops. Alcoholic butterbeer galore.” 

“And I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it, no matter if I want to hear it or not,” You return, looking at your water. “Oh shit, I gotta go.” 

Jimin watches you collect your parchment and books, and the way you stuff them into your bag. “Where are you going?” 

You look at him, blinking. “Uh—Actually, I don’t think I should tell you.” 

He pouts, again. “What? Why not?” His curiosity only grows when you just give him a meek smile, and turn to rush out of the library. He calls your name. “Shit, hold on!” He doesn’t bother to organize anything, he just throws everything into his bag before he’s dashing to catch up to you. He also doesn’t bother to check around him before he’s throwing his arms out to encircle you around the waist. 

“Jimin!” You exclaim, both of you slowing to a time. “You’re needy today.” 

“Where are you going?” He tightens his hold. “I took some workout advice from Jungkook, I won’t hesitate.” 

You still at that. “What the fuck? Are you implying that you’ll crush me otherwise?” 

“Don’t change the subject!” 

You sigh, reaching into the pocket of your robe. “I may or may not have gotten an offer to get extra credit from Professor Flitwick for Charms.” 

He pauses. “Aren’t you and I having a bet about who can get the higher grade in that class?” 

“Uh, perhaps?” Suddenly, you bend your wrist slightly to poke your wand in his stomach. “Rictusempra.” 

A silver light beams from the end of your wand, and Jimin bursts out into laughter. He releases his hold on you immediately, falling to his knees as the giggling that escapes his lips fills the air and takes the energy out of his knees. “A—giggling—charm?” He manages in between breaths.

You whirl around to face him, twirling your wand. “Sorry Park. I saw an opportunity and I took it. Hopefully one of your friends can help you—preferably after I’ve made my way down this hallway.” You turn back towards your original direction and actually run away from him. 

Jung Hoseok is eventually the one to find Jimin on the floor, laughing, crowded by students who were intrigued to see the great Park Jimin at his wits end. Although those same students help him onto his feet, there’s still the mark of amusement in their eyes, and Jimin’s cheek heat nonetheless. 

The next time he sees you, he’ll get you back for this.

.

Jimin’s party is the night before the winter holiday begins. All the classes are done, all the essays and tests are submitted. The snow has become a permanent decoration to the school, all compact white blanketing the grass and exterior castle walls. The chill has settled more deeply in the air, bringing up the heavy scarfs and heavier coats. Breaths come out in puffs of air. And you are near the fireplace. 

Actually, more specifically, you are finishing up a last minute extra credit report for Astronomy. Not that your grades need the extra boost—Professor Sinistra had offered to provide you with the assignment that allowed you to indulge a little deeper in star placement and you weren’t going to waste away that chance. It’s due tomorrow morning, right before you take the train back home, so you are wasting away, scribbling all the research that you can recall onto the parchment. 

You’re finishing up your conclusion paragraph when you hear the door to the common room slide open, announcing the presence of a student. You don’t pay attention to this. Judging by the darkness clouding the sky, it’s getting late and you assume that the students who had gone to Jimin’s party should be heading back by now. When it gets too late, even though classes and henceforth school are paused, there are still certain punishments on the line. 

You don’t pay much attention to the student, until you notice that figure now standing right in front of your table near the fireplace. You look up. It’s Jung Jaehyun—Seeker for the Slytherin team. And, as you are aware of, an attendee to Jimin’s party. 

The thing is, however, that you and Jaehyun have interacted a grand total of exactly zero times. Neither of you ran in the same social circle—if the friend you’ve made that spends more time in the greenhouse than in class could be considered a social circle. 

Jaehyun looks just as uneasy as you do, with the way he’s shifting back and forth on his feet. “Y-You’re Y/N, right?” 

You straighten slightly. That is, obviously the first time Jaehyun has ever said your name. “Y-Yes. And you’re Jaehyun?” 

“Yeah…” Jaehyun starts, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I know this is totally out of line for me. But would it be too much if I asked you to come with me to the Room of Requirement?” 

“Uh…” You trail off. You hadn’t been expecting much upon seeing Jung Jaehyun standing right in front of you. But you really hadn’t been expecting this. “Is… there a reason why…?” 

“Well…” Jaehyun tries again, but trails off. He seems to be having trouble figuring out how to explain his story. “I think you know that Jimin and his friends were having a party down there, right?” 

You keep staring at Jaehyun. “Did something happen to Jimin?” 

“N-No, not really, it’s just, he drank a bit and he’s refusing to leave until he sees someone…” 

You press your lips together, having a vague idea of where this could be going but refusing to make assumptions. “Was I that someone?” 

“Well, okay, he didn’t mention a specific name. He just kept saying he wanted to see his girlfriend before he left…” 

“Okay, then why don’t you take his girlfriend down there?” 

Jaehyun looks pained for a second. “Jimin doesn’t have a girlfriend. His friends and I were trying to figure it out. You’re the only person he spends all this time with besides his core group. We figured asking you to come down would be a good place to start.” 

You swallow at the thought. You’ve never really set foot into Jimin’s world, it wasn’t really your scene. Even back at Ilvermorny, you were well known because of your grades, but you weren’t a popular student. But more than that, Park Jimin calling you his girlfriend? The thought seemed highly unlikely. You aren’t even sure that he feels that deeply for you—rather, your relationship was formed as a byproduct of forced participation. Without that presentation to the Ministry, you’re sure you would never have had a proper conversation with Jimin. 

Still, Jaehyun looks like he’s about to fling himself off the Astronomy tower. The more time goes by, the higher the chances of Jimin and the rest of his friends getting caught and getting saddled with detention. You figure: what’s the harm? 

“W-Well, uh, sure.” You straighten up, placing your items into your bag and taking a second to drop that bag off on your dorm bed. Jaehyun is still in the common room when you get down, and leads the way to the Room of Requirement. The walk there is another maze of walls and windows and firelit pathways. 

But instead of the Room of Requirement entrance you see, you notice a group of boys lingering outside the blank wall Jaehyun had told you let to the party. For a moment, you wonder if the group were attendees of the party. But the closer you get, and the more you start to hear voices that sound vaguely familiar saying names that sound even more so, you realize that this group is The group—Jimin’s group. 

“Taehyung!” Jaehyun calls as soon as the two of you are in hearing range. 

The boy, you assume is Taehyung, looks up towards the source of the noise. His eyes land on you and he visibly looks relieved. “Hey, you must be Y/N.” He nods towards you, and tilts his head towards the boy leaning heavily against him. “Hey Jimin.” He calls for the boy, but he looks unsure. Probably because he too isn’t sure if you’re who Jimin is describing as his girlfriend. “Uh, we brought your girlfriend?” 

It sounds more like a question than an actual statement. But Jimin doesn’t seem to notice. He lifts his head up from Taehyung’s shoulder and locks his gaze onto you. At once, his eyes turn into half moons with how brightly he is smiling at you. It’s like the sun has come out, with the light glimmering in his eyes and his cheeks rounding out. He calls out your name. “Baby, you showed up!” He cries, managing to untangle himself from Taehyung and latch immediately onto you. You might have stumbled, had Jaehyun not helped catch some of Jimin’s weight. “I thought you weren’t coming!” 

“Uh…” You trail off, mind going haywire. How could it not? Jimin, someone who is definitely not your boyfriend, is calling you his girlfriend, calling you baby, and hugging you like his life depends on it. The two of you just have sex! Under unestablished rules, sure, but that type of situation calls for an actual discussion beforehand. “Well, your friends said you wouldn’t leave the party unless I showed up. Why don’t we all head back to our Houses, before we all get detention?” 

Jimin nods, cheek against your cheek. “That sounds good. Look at my Y/N—so smart and wonderful.” 

“Y/N… didn’t he want to rip her neck off at the beginning of the year?” One of the boys whispers. You, of course, hear it, because Jimin’s friends lack indoor voices and it shows. “And now he’s admitting that she’s smart? What the fuck?” 

“Shut up, Hoseok.” 

Another boy turns to you, an appreciative smile on his lips. It’s Min Yoongi—Head Boy, and fellow Slytherin. “Just ignore Hoseok. And I’m sorry this is how we’re meeting you—from what Jimin says you’re super smart and it drives him crazy, so naturally I’m your biggest fan. I’m Yoongi.” 

You nod, trying for a smile. “I know. I would shake your hand, but…” 

“You’ve got a Jimin attached to you, I got it.” Yoongi waves his hand dismissively, whirling around to face his group. “Alright, you bitches. You better be in your Houses before I finish my first round of the castle otherwise you’re all getting detention.” There’s a momentary wave of protests before Yoongi interrupts it. “Or I don’t have to do a round and can just give you all detention right now…” 

“No, no, okay, we’re going.” It’s the boy who had called Hoseok out, telling him to shut up. He winks at you as he brushes past you, and flashes some finger guns at Jaehyun. 

“Fuck you too, JK,” Jaehyun returns, before leveling you with a gaze. “We should get going, huh?” 

“Yeah,” You manage, adjusting Jimin on your shoulder before you and Jaehyun practically drag Jimin down to the Slytherin common room.  As soon as you enter, you dump Jimin onto the couch, where he slumps backwards and remains unmoving. He laughs, eyes wide as they gaze up at you. 

He brings his arms up, bringing his fingers together in a grabby motion. “Y/N, come sit with me.” 

Jaehyun coughs, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll, uh, leave the two of you alone. Thanks for coming out with me, you really saved us.” 

You nod. “No problem, although it seemed like Yoongi could have handled it.” 

“Nah, that punk is a Head Boy through and through. Loves his friends to death, but wouldn’t hesitate to give detention. Anyways, I’m off to bed. It was nice to meet you.” 

You smile. “You too.” You watch Jaehyun and he disappears up the stairs, into the boys room. 

A tug on the hem of your skirt pulls you back. Jimin is still gazing up at you. “Come here!” He pouts, pulling a little too hard and sending you stumbling forward right onto him. Your legs end up on either side of him, effectively straddling his waist. His arms curl around your body. “Isn’t this better? This reminds me where we were just a few weeks ago—!” 

“Jimin,” You cut in, flushing at the thought of aforementioned few weeks ago. “What are you doing?” 

He blinks, the haziness from his drinking still glimmering in his eyes. “I’m just hugging you.” 

“No, Jimin.” Your hands find a place on his shoulders. “What are you doing? I’m not your girlfriend, so why would you say that down there in front of your friends?” 

“Wait, you’re not my girlfriend?” He’s still looking like a deer in the headlights. “But… I really like you, so I thought that something was going on…” He looks lost. 

A lot is pinging through your head—did Jimin just confess to you? “Jimin, you like me?” 

He nods. “I do, I really do.” His nod is lagging, it’s a little slow as he probably doesn’t want to make himself sick with movement too fast. “You’re so funny. And smart. And mean. But I like it. It’s not too mean, but mean enough to make me laugh.” 

You laugh a little. “You’re drunk, Jimin, you don’t know what you’re saying. You would never admit that I’m smart.” 

He sighs, tilting his head back until it rests on the back of the couch. “I would never say it out loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Fuck, my head hurts…” 

“You should get some sleep,” You say, instead of trying to push the topic further. “Do you need help getting into the boys dorm room?” 

“I don’t think I can make it up there,” He retorts softly. “I might have to crash down here.” He gazes up at you. “Will you stay down here with me?” 

You waver slightly, lots of questions running through your mind. If you slept down here with Jimin, surely someone would wake up and catch the two of you. Rumors would fly, questions would be asked.

Still, Jimin looks so cozy and vulnerable—an absolute rarity. And who knows, perhaps if things don’t go the way you want them to, you could use this moment against him. A reminder of when the great Park Jimin, a rock of stubbornness and arrogance, looked at you like you were the stars. 

So you sigh. “Sure, I’ll stay down here with you.” 

You don’t need to tell anyone that the smile flashing across his face makes your answer worth it. 

. 

You awake rather abruptly to the movement that happens next to you. Every muscle in your body is aching, so completely sore from the position you’ve rolled into. You open your eyes to a collarbone, a flash of the Slytherin green tie. You blink sleepily, disorientated, as your gaze slides up—! 

To see Jimin staring down at you. 

You jump slightly. “Shit, sorry.” 

“No worries.” Jimin groans, stretching. Or, trying to stretch. The couch you’re both on top of offers very little space for movement. It also explains your sore neck. “Ugh, fuck.” 

You sit up, rolling your neck and hearing the satisfying crack of bones. “How are you feeling?” 

“Gross,” He answers, sitting up as well. You’re sitting between his legs, the close proximity allowing you to see the tiredness in his eyes. That isn’t surprising. The sun has barely started to rise over the mountains. Given that the sky is a very vague shade of orange, you can only assume it’s five or six o’clock in the morning. 

You look up at him. “You hungover too?” 

He presses fingers to his temple. “A little headache, but it’s not too bad.” He lowers his hand, and looks over at you. “I wasn’t that drunk, Y/N, I do remember what happened last night. Maybe I was a little more transparent than normal, but…” 

You raise an eyebrow, egging him on. “But?” 

He stares at you for a moment longer, before he laughs a little, tilting his head backwards. “Aw, Y/N, don’t make me say it!” 

You can’t help but smile back. “No, I think I want you to say it. Otherwise I’ll think you’re pulling my leg.” 

He lifts his head towards you, pouting. “I would never pull your leg.” 

“Then say it,” You say leaning towards him. 

As soon as you’re close enough, Jimin’s hand comes up to trap your chin in between his thumb and index finger. The gesture is done to keep you close, to keep your eyes fixated on his, all so he can gauge your expression. He seems to be debating on how truthful he wants to be for this. “But… I wasn’t lying when I said that I liked you.” His eyes flicker between your own. “Even though you’re annoying all of the time.” 

You can’t help it. You start to laugh. “Takes one to know one, huh?” 

He brings you forward, shifting your center of gravity and bringing you forward towards him. You gasp as your hands come out to rest on the arms of the couch, on either side of Jimin. The gesture, however, brings you closer to him, so that your lips are hovering right over one another. “You’re being a brat again. Shut up.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, although he’s too close to see it properly. “Make me, Park Jimin.” 

He groans. “Don’t say that. I’m too gross to fuck you right now. And aren’t you going back home today after you submit that report to Professor Sinistra?” 

You smile a little, touched that he remembers your report. “I finished the report. And…” You trail off, pulling back enough to look at your watch. You were right: the current time reads 6:15AM. “There’s still five hours before the train leaves…” 

Jimin looks up at you. “I’ve got an idea. You have to be quiet though.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism, Park, but if that’s what you want…” You start to unbutton the polo of your shirt. 

Jimin’s eyes widen. “H-Hey, stop, I didn’t mean here! Button that back up!” 

You gaze over at him, two buttons on your blouse undone, more than enough to expose your collarbone. “What’s wrong?” 

“Why do I like you so much, you’re nothing but a brat,” Jimin grunts, mostly to himself as he reaches out to button back your shirt. “I meant somewhere else. You have to be quiet on the way to the place, you idiot. Come on.” 

He takes your head, lacing the fingers together, and making your heart jump in your throat as Jimin guides the pair of you out of the Slytherin common room and up the stairs. Making your way up to the fifth floor, he turns into a corridor with statues along the wall. He finally stops at one, the statue you recognize to be Boris the Bewildered. 

“Pine Fresh,” Jimin whispers to the statue, which moves to the side and allows Jimin to drag both you and himself into the hidden room. At the detection of movement, the candlelights along the walls light up which further heightens the place Jimin has just taken you into. 

It’s a large bathroom. The first thing you notice are the stained glass windows that surround the entirety of the room. Each window paints a different picture of mermaids across the surface, all of which are moving around the space much like every other piece of artwork in this castle. Some of them wave to the pair of you, but most of them continue to mind their own business of looking out the window and enjoying the view of the mountains surrounding Hogwarts. 

The moving pictures of mermaids, however, isn’t where your attention has fallen. Your eyes flicker all over the place, trying to take in more of this place Jimin has taken you to. 

Located on the left side of the room is a row of squeaky clean, polished and shiny toilets in stalls with a row of sinks, mirrors, and makeup counters on the other side. Located on the right side of the room is a lounging area, couches and cushions in the space and a row of bathrobes along the wall. 

The middle of the room houses the main attraction of the space—it’s a large bathtub, as big as a swimming pool with how wide and deeply the hole has been cut into the ground. The tapping for the bath surrounds the tub, each tap with a different colored jewel atop the metal piping. Along the edge of the tub are different baskets, each basket holding a different shaped container and bath product. 

“Shampoo, conditioner, soaps, bath oils, and bath salts,” Jimin explains, seeming to notice your lingering gaze upon the baskets. 

“Cool, uh…” You pause, trying to gather your thoughts properly enough to ask the biggest question of them all. “What is this place?” 

“Oh! Right.” He gestures to the entire room. “Welcome to the Prefects’ Bathroom.” 

You turn your gaze towards him, eyes wide. “The Prefects’ Bathroom? Shouldn’t we not be here then?” You’ve heard of this place before back at Ilvermorny. It’s considered a secret location that only Head Boys, Head Girls, Prefects, and Quidditich captains. Definitely not a place for you or Jimin to be in. 

He grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Relax, baby. I got the password from Yoongi. And it’s six in the morning on the first day of winter holiday. I doubt any of the people allowed in there wouldn’t think to come in right now.” 

You exhale, unable to ignore the quickening of your heart race. It was one thing to fool around in Yoongi’s private study. But being in this type of place that increased the chances of getting caught makes you nervous. 

Jimin can see that, because he steps closer to you and rests a hand on your waist. “Hey,” He says, not speaking again until you’re looking up at him. “It’s okay. I don’t want to suggest anything that’ll make you uncomfortable. I just thought of this place because it’s, for the most part, secluded and unused. We’re both tired and groggy, so I thought we could use the bath.” 

You take in a breath, before making your decision and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Alright, I’ll decide to trust you on this. So what’s your plan, Park Jimin? What are you gonna do to me?” 

He laughs at that, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “Well, sweetheart, we can go about this in two ways. Number one: we’ll go right on that couch and we’ll have a celebratory fuck on some actual cushions for once. Then, after that, we’ll take a bath. Or number two: we skip the fuck and take the bath instead.” 

You feign a gasp. “You would skip a fuck for me?” 

He mirrors your gasp. “Of course. That’s what you get for making me fall for you.” 

“Charming,” You say with a smile. “Lucky for us, I like you too. In fact, I like you so much, I can feel your boner against my leg so I’ll even have sex with you just for that.” 

His smile widens. He sighs dreamily, which makes you laugh. “Wow, are you the girl of my dreams or something?” 

“Hm, what happened to trying to skip my neck off?” 

“You really know how to keep up a mood,” Jimin mumbles. “I’m just gonna kiss you before you ruin this any further for us.” So he does, covering his lips with yours. 

There’s something different about this kiss. Normally, with your escapees or ‘meetings with Yoongi’, the kisses you share are frantic and haphazard and not really the main purpose of your interaction. The kisses are short-lived and bruising. But this kiss is different. It’s softer and slow-paced enough that it allows for exploration. It’s a kiss where your fingers gently brush over Jimin’s collarbone, where his own fingers settle at your jawline in order to trace over your cheeks and your neck. The sensation as light as it is makes your head spin. 

You aren’t even aware the pair of you are moving throughout the room until you feel Jimin hit something in front of you, and behind him. The back of his knees hit one of the cushions on the right side of the room, and he falls back. You fall on top of him, straddling him. It’s a similar position to where you were less than a day ago, but the intent is different. You hardly register any potential pain or jolts. Jimin just brings you back to kissing him, fingers moving down to curl around your waist instead. 

Only when it feels like it takes too much energy to kiss and breathe properly at the same time does Jimin pull away to dust kisses along your cheek, before moving down to kiss along your jawline, down your neck. Your tilt your head back, eyes closed as you let out a breathy sigh. Your hips start to move of its own accord, grinding down on the already stiff junction between his legs. 

Jimin groans at that, tightening his hold on your waist and guiding you to move deeper and faster. The bathroom fills with the noises escaping between your lips and the rustle of clothing. 

You and Jimin seem set on fixing that problem right away. Being in this position on a couch is so much more different than sex in a classroom on top of tables and chairs. It brings a comfort neither of you have experienced before. With that comfort comes this desire to just go all the way, to feel skin beneath fingertips. It happens too. First the sweater vests go, then the ties and the shirts. 

Jimin goes quiet at the sight of your chest, hands encircling your breast and thumb running over the nipple. His mouth replaces his hand, circling the nip with his tongue. The warmth of it brings chills that hit every nerve in your body. You arch your back, as Jimin’s hands at your waist keep you rooted to the spot. 

You start to claw at the waistband of his slacks, one thought pinging through your mind—and that was to see this through to the end. “J-Jimin,” You whine, already filling to wet and foggy. Jimin pays you no attention, merely switching to your other breast to wrap your nipple in his mouth. You whimper, grinding a little faster. Your fingers make their way up to his hair, curling the digits around his locks. You pull him away just enough for him to look up and make eye contact with you, but not enough. His mouth is still around your nipple. 

He hums, and the vibration sends through your body. 

He pulls away from you. “What is it?” 

You look down at him, pouting and whining. 

He cups your face with one of his hands. “You have to use your words, baby.”

You let out a sigh to calm your nerves. “N-Nothing,” You manage. “I just, I really want you right now. And I’m glad you like me too.” 

Jimin quirks the corner of his lips, before his fingers are curling under the waistband of your skirt. “C’mon, let’s get you out of this.” 

A few tugs and shift adjustments later, you’re both naked atop the cushions. Hands are running over skin, and Jimin’s hands remain at your sides to lift you up just enough until you’re hovering over his cock—long and hard. 

At this, Jimin brings your upper body closer until your ear is hovering near his lips. He kisses below, a spot that makes the shiver travel up your spine, before he goes back to hovering at your lobe. “You wanna show me how good you take dick?” 

You nod, brain still fuzzy as Jimin starts kissing down your neck again. It’s a very distracting sensation, the feeling of his pillowy lips against your skin. Your toes curl on the couch when his cock hovers right above your slit, right where you want him. 

With the guidance of Jimin’s hands, he starts to push you down, the stretching sensation forcing a sigh past your lips. Even though you and Jimin have had sex for awhile—even the most recent ‘meeting with Yoongi’ had occured a week ago—something about this feels different. There’s a deep rooted passion in his kisses, in the bites he’s littering across his neck. Almost as if Jimin had been holding back for that month and a half of casual sex, and now has let his full love and admiration of you loose. 

Every inch of Jimin inside of you is another euphoric wave that washes over you. You had thought today wouldn’t be too different from previous encounters, but the shaking of your knees tells you otherwise. “J-Jimin—!” You whine. “Fffuck…” 

“Look at you go,” He praises, eyes fixed on your spot of connection until you’re filled to the hilt. You feel so impossibly full. “Made just for me.” 

He waits for you. He waits until you stop clenching around him, until you relax. Only then does he hold onto your waist again and slowly start bouncing you on his cock. Your grip around his shoulders start to tighten as the friction makes your head spin. You let yourself be led, breathy moans turn to gasps. “Nn, fuck, feels so good…” 

He feels you start to randomly clench around him again. Having spent so many late evenings and early afternoons with you, he knows your signs perfectly. You’re close. 

He finishes you off with a thumb at your clit, circling at the bundle of nerves just right until your gasps turn into cries and you’re spazzing around his cock. The sensation is tight and warm, and Jimin chokes as his fingers dig into your skin to keep him grounded as he spills up into you. 

The blood-rushing physicality of what had just happened starts to settle in, leaving the two of you against the couch with mismatched breaths and his dick still inside of you. “Oh shit…” He whines. “You like me too.” 

You lift yourself off of him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that the only thing you got from that?” 

His hands on your hips keep you from moving around. His cock is softening around your walls, all helping his heart rate return to a comfortable pace. “Well, had I know us liking each other meant mind-blowing sex, yeah, I get to be a little salty I didn’t say anything earlier.” 

You laugh. “You’re unbelievable.” 

He smirks. “That’s right.” He readjusts, helping you up and off of his dick. His cum, white liquid, spills out of you. 

You cup yourself immediately. “Oh shit, that’s gonna get on this cushion.” 

“Oh shit.” Jimin cups your pussy too. Extra barrier, he would say. He turns towards the long bathtub. “How about a bath now?” He flashes you a grin when you nod. 

Keeping one arm around your waist to keep you steady, he leans down to dig through the pile of his clothes until he produces his wand. Turning towards the tub, he waves his wand. At once, the water from the tabs go off, each flow of water a different color. Some emit a string of bubbles, giving a formy texture to the bathwater currently in the tub. 

Given the size of the bathtub, one might have assumed it would take a long time to fill the space, so it’s a surprise to see water nearing the top after only a matter of minutes. Jimin waves his wand again to stop the water coming out of the tabs. 

Jimin removes his hand from you and allows you to straighten into a standing position. He stands too, guiding you to the edge of the bathtub where he lets you step into the water first. 

The water is the perfect temperature, warm and wonderful as it envelops your body. As you sink down, you sigh as you feel your muscles relaxing, where you don’t stop adjusting until your butt hits the appropriate step to sit on. Jimin follows in after you, not stopping until he’s sitting right behind you. 

“Ahhhhh, shit, this is perfect,” He says quietly, wrapping his arms around you. The only sound in the room is the rustle of water that splashes around softly in time to the movements both of you make. 

You move your head slightly to dip strands of your hair into the water. “Wow, no wonder Yoongi takes his job so seriously. I’d hate to lose out on this.” 

“Well, just stick with me, baby, and we’ll keep sneaking around for the rest of the school year.” 

You turn slightly to look at him. “Do you mean… sneaking around Head Boy equipment, or sneaking around the school?” There’s an implication in your question. Do you plan to keep me a secret?

However, Jimin quells that worry rather quickly. “Sweetheart, I’ve been chasing you around for a month and a half—emotionally and physically. Do you really think I’d be able to keep my feelings a secret in front of other people?” 

You smile, relaxing back into his arms. “I’m glad to hear that…” 

“Plus when I kick your ass in our classes, I think that it’s more satisfying to hear that I beat my girlfriend instead of that transfer student from Ilvermorny. Makes it more personal. Just how I like it.” 

“There it is.” 

He laughs, nudging himself further into you. It stays like this for a little bit, both of making conversation, but mostly just done in the privacy of this space you’ve carved for yourselves. You aren’t too sure of how much time has gone by until you’re hearing the statue behind the entrance to the bathroom move, followed immediately by a voice. It’s Min Yoongi. 

“Hey, who the fuck is in here—oh shit, Jimin?” A pause, both of you immediately spinning around to look towards the source of the noise. Yoongi notices you immediately, eyes widening as he turns around to face the wall. “Is that Y/N? What the fuck are you doing here? This is the Prefects’ Bathroom!” Another pause. “Wait, hold the fuck up—are you guys together?” 

You, however, don’t hear any of those questions. You’re too busy squealing in surprise, immediately dipping your body lower into the water to avoid having Yoongi’s eyes wander to places they don’t belong. You cover your breasts to further avoid that. 

Jimin shifts towards you to block your body. “What the fuck? What are you doing here? It’s Saturday morning!” 

“Hey!” Yoongi whirls around, red-faced, purposefully avoiding your gaze. “Don’t answer my question with a question! And I’m Head Boy, I’m allowed in here!” 

“You gave me the password!” 

“Yes, in the case of an emergency! Is snuggling up to your girlfriend really an emergency?” 

“Well, in that case no, but having a celebratory bath with my new girlfriend could be classified as an emergency?” 

“JIMIN.” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, whirling around. “Holy fuck, if Flinch saw you in here… if he knows that you’re in here thanks to me…”  

“Uh…” You say from behind Jimin. Only your neck is visible above the water, so your voice and arm raising are extremely meek. “Yoongi? I’m sorry… we were both tired and gross, and Jimin had a hangover…” 

“No, uh, Y/N…” Yoongi cuts in, albeit more gently. “I don’t blame you.” He looks down at his watch. “I should probably let you know, however, that it’s almost eight o’clock and I’m aware that you have a report to submit to Professor Sinistra before the train leaves back for home?”  

“Oh shit!” You startle at that news. “I have to go do that now…” 

Yoongi glares at Jimin, then looks back at you, and sighs heavily. “Okay,” He starts slowly. “I’m just gonna stand outside and pretend that I didn’t see any of this. You guys better be out there in five minutes though. Both of you.” Without another look at either of you, Yoongi exits the room. 

Immediately, you and Jimin scramble to dry yourselves off. Both of you decide to just leave your hairs damp and wet, electing that just getting the basics of your attire on is more important. In the end, you’re both just in your appropriate bottoms, and messily put together blouses and tops. Yours isn’t even buttoned all the way, leaving your collarbone exposed and littered with Jimin’s marks from earlier. 

Jimin grabs your waist before both of you could make it out. “I’ll be able to see you before you get on the train, right?” 

You hum, arm around his neck. “Aw, will the baby miss me?” 

He glares, pushing you away slightly. “I’m just asking.” 

You laugh. “Most likely, I just need to submit the report. And pack—I didn’t really get to do that yesterday.” 

“Okay, okay.” Jimin lets you go. “I just wanted to make sure.” 

Flashing him one more smile, you lead both you and Jimin out of the room. True to Yoongi’s word, he’s waiting outside with his hands in his pockets and his eyes averted. They, however, fix themselves on you as soon as you emerge from behind the statue with Jimin. 

“I was this close to tipping you off to Mr. Flinch…” Yoongi trails off, studying the two of you. His eyes settle on the hickies at your throat. He freezes. “Wait, did you guys fuck in there?” 

“Uh…” Jimin looks at you, the realization settling in both of your gazes. “WELL, Y/N, the love of my life, it was great knowing you, how about you run off to Professor Sinistra while I try to outrun Yoongi’s rage.” 

Yoongi pales, looking like his soul has just departed from his body. “So that means…” 

You nod, corner of your lips smiling despite the potential outcome of the situation. “I’ll write to you once a week.” You look back at Yoongi’s increasingly stony expression. “I’m sorry Yoongi.” You say this before turning around and practically running down the hallway. 

Just before you turn to go down the stairs to collect your report, you make out one last sentence: “JIMIN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” 

[nikibogwater]

What did you think of Nari's characterization in ROTT?

Disliked it, as with most of the other things in the movie.

The short version of it is this: In Wizards, Nari's primary character traits were empathy and compassion for others. In Rise of the Titans, her primary character traits seem to be just a general lack of awareness for what's happening around her, and a tendency to make light of very serious situations.

Now before I get into the long-form answer, I will preface by saying that the writers of RotT were at a severe disadvantage when writing for characters who were introduced in Wizards because Wizards was still in production at the time. So I understand why Nari ended up feeling like a completely different character in the movie, and I am not shaming anyone for it. But the fact of the matter is that I found her characterization in Wizards to be much more appealing, and if that characterization had carried over to Rise of the Titans, I think I would've had slightly warmer feelings towards the movie. But let's get down to brass tacks now, because I've actually been dying to talk about this. This is gonna be a loooooong boi, so I've put everything under the cut to avoid clogging people's queues (I'm just really passionate about this bean goddess, okay? 😅)

When Nari is introduced to us in Wizards, she is quietly watching the arrival of our heroes at the castle. She doesn't make herself known to them, but it is clear she is very interested in what's happening. She does not make any other appearance until the Arcane Order launches their assault on Camelot.

Nari's first spoken words are, "Merlin! This is all my fault!" and as one would expect after hearing this, she is very obviously distressed and feeling guilty for putting everyone in danger. Merlin tells her they need to escape to the past, and that he needs her help in order to do it. Nari's response is to begin charging her magic as she says "I will do what I can."

After our main characters are thrown back in time, we're introduced to Nari as she was in the past. Although she is allied with the Arcane Order in their war against humanity, it's clear that she displays the least amount of malice out of the three. In fact, it's revealed that Nari has always been rather fond of humans, and has even reached out to them in friendship a number of times. After resurrecting Morgana, Nari is the one who does most of the explaining and introductions, showing a bit of a playful/mischievous side as she pokes fun at Bellroc and Skrael. ("I told you she would, Skrael! So old, and they still haven't learned manners.")

During the Battle of Killahead, we see Nari watching the war from a distance, and it's clear from the expression on her face that she is not liking any of this. Though she does briefly aid her siblings when they join in the battle, she reveals afterwards that she can sense the pain and suffering they have inflicted on others--and she doesn't believe the Order's ambitions are worth that. She abandons the Order, presumably spending the next 900 years in hiding, before seeking Merlin's protection.

Once our heroes have returned to the present, Nari becomes a bit more involved in the plot. She expresses genuine sorrow over the destruction of Arcadia Oaks High ("Your beautiful school-home was crushed!") and is clearly distressed by Jim's agony as the shard in his chest begins to work its dark magic. ("Poor soul! Your corruption...I feel it worsening.") After Jim is taken by the Order, we can see her comforting Toby in the background. She continues to show great concern and empathy for the people around her, and is still eager to help wherever she can, though her magic doesn't seem to be combat-oriented. She is also shown to be somewhat timid, hiding behind Merlin or Claire during confrontations with the Order--she is very clearly terrified of her old allies, and seems to want to avoid direct contact with them. When Douxie is struck down by the Order and is falling to his death, it is Nari who runs to try to save him before anyone else--apparently, if someone is in need, Nari's first instinct is to rush to their aid.

So, from all of that, we can gather that Nari, as she was characterized in Wizards, is intelligent, curious, cautious, gentle, empathetic, and very aware of what's going on around her. She is also a little playful and wild, but never to the point of disregarding what's happening or how others are feeling.

In Rise of the Titans, Nari remains consistent with this characterization for all of...seven minutes.

Initially, Nari is still very much herself in this scene (though I wish we could've been told what exactly made her want to stop running and face the Order head-on. Again, in Wizards, it was abundantly clear that that was the one thing she did NOT want to do). When Douxie expresses his anxiety about the situation, she takes him by the hand, offers him a reassuring smile, and says, gently but firmly, "No. No more running, Douxie." Excellent interaction. 10/10. Five stars. That's also the only time in the movie where Nari displays any level of awareness regarding Douxie's (or anyone's) feelings/wellbeing.

The body-swap scene is when Nari's character just completely swings in the opposite direction, and she becomes near-unrecognizable as being the same character from Wizards. Douxie, being our favorite Self-Sacrificing Idiot, swaps bodies with her at the last possible second, causing the Order to take him instead. Nari, now stuck inside Douxie's body, seemingly doesn't think much of this development at all. In fact, her first response is to giggle playfully. UM, NARI. NARI, SWEETIE, YOUR BIG BROTHER IS IN THE CLUTCHES THE MOST EVIL BEINGS KNOWN TO MANKIND. LIKE, THEY LITERALLY KILLED HIM THE LAST TIME HE RESCUED YOU FROM THEM, WHY ARE YOU NOT MORE WORRIED ABOUT THIS?! Up until this point, Nari has never been shown to underestimate the Arcane Order--she seems all too aware of the kind of violence and destruction they are capable of, which explains why she was so terrified of them in Wizards. But in Rise of the Titans she seems to just....not really care anymore? The entire time she is in Douxie's body, she doesn't express the slightest amount of concern for him, or for anyone around her. She just keeps doing...cutesy forest gremlin things, like singing to her flower, batting at a light fixture, and antagonizing Archie (she's definitely not the only character who was severely lacking in empathy in this movie, but this is an essay about Nari, so I'm not going to bother touching on everyone else). This is a direct contradiction to her characterization in Wizards, where she was shown to care deeply for the people around her, and displayed genuine distress whenever they were in danger or suffering.

Nari also persists in being pointlessly cryptic for the entirety of the movie because....reasons. Before the Order breaks Douxie's body-swap spell, she tells Jim, "Trollhunter make ninth configuration--the Kronosphere will make right." Which, of course, doesn't help him in the slightest. And when they finally succeed in rescuing Nari, she doesn't elaborate or explain this at all. She just says it again. Listen, I can get behind Nari being Insanely Ancient, and maybe a little out of touch with modern trends, but I'm fairly certain that Wizards Nari at least knew how to communicate. She never showed any inclination towards being cryptic or mysterious on purpose, at least. We're never given any explanation for Nari's sudden lack of clarity, so I guess it was just there for plot reasons. Which makes it that much more infuriating.

Also I don't know why, but the little "Hehe!" Nari does when Douxie pulls her into a hug kind of grinds my gears, because Nari, love, this is a really serious moment, you were just snapped out of mind control and your siblings are currently rampaging across globe in giant magical mechs, why are you giggling like a four-year-old and not, idk, SOBBING IN A MIXTURE OF RELIEF AND HORROR BECAUSE YOU WERE ALMOST PART OF WHAT DESTROYS THE EARTH?! AS THAT WOULD BE A MORE APPROPRIATE RESPONSE TO WHAT JUST HAPPENED????!!!!! But that's just a stupid little nitpick.

Now this is not me saying that Nari's characterization in the movie is objectively bad. Actually, it's kind of fitting for the Tales of Arcadia brand of humor--Super ancient demigoddess who houses the power to completely destroy the earth is also kind of a clueless ditz and needs to be babysat like a toddler. If she had not been introduced in Wizards, I would've been fine with this. But, much like the rest of the movie, Nari's vastly different characterization felt a tiny bit like a betrayal, and it consistently bothered me in every single one of her scenes. It also kept me from feeling the full impact of her death--seriously, I didn't cry at all when she was killed. Which....yeah, I'm just as surprised as you are.

So anyways, if you've made it this far, thank you so much for the ask, Non! Normally I have a bit more self control than to just....essay-dump like this, but honestly I've been thinking about this for way too long, and I had to get it out of my system. 🥴 And to anyone who really liked Nari's characterization in RotT--that's totally valid! Again, I don't think it was a bad characterization. It was just very inconsistent with her character as she was introduced to us in Wizards. And I just happen to prefer Wizards Nari over RotT Nari. 🌿✨

[karimac]

...in the details, part 1

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 1,198

“A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat.”

Sam Wilson said it. You heard it. Damn, you felt it. And it hurt. He knew it was more than that, and that joke was just not funny. And you’d tell him that. If you could.

The problem was that Sam was nowhere near where you were at the moment. By all rights, anything that even smacked of The Avengers was now marked on a page in the latest tome about your life with a very definitive “The End” written in swirling calligraphic script at the bottom of the page, followed closely by the same words written in Ogham. That was an alphabet not seen much these days beyond necklace pendants or old rock formations found in farmer’s fields on the road to one Irish town or another. That in and of itself still seemed weird.

If this had ended when you were working at The Daily Bugle, then it would have closed with a -30- before you logged off your screen. But this was not your ill-fated stint at The Bugle. Jameson was such a pompous twit, and he never took a moment to even try to understand why the world needed a friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man, let alone how a teen had been left to carry that mantle and had to now lift an even greater burden since his mentor was gone. That poor kid was going to need help, but you knew anything you had to offer would likely be more curse than boon.

But this nonsense with Sam? This was something you really couldn’t put your finger on yet.

Weeks ago, wait, it was months ago now, The Avengers saved the world one more time. You were there, right in the middle of the insanity before Tony Stark snapped his fingers and turned Thanos and his army into nothing more than dust.

As deaths for wannabe gods go, that one was justified, lame and incredibly sad all at the same time. And you should know. You’d seen almost every manner of death in the 1,500 years, give or take a day, which you had walked the Earth. It was not a warrior’s end.

The warrior’s end was saved for Stark. He reminded you so much of his father at that point. Supremely intelligent. Unflinching. Loyal.

When Howard Stark and Peggy Carter met you, you went by your birth name of Kari MacOrish. At least that was the Anglicized spelling of it. The true Irish spelling was a bit hard for others to wrap their heads around at times.

Your name is, was and always would be Kari MacOrish. You had gone by hundreds of others as time ebbed and flowed around you, but this was you. You had been, since your birth on a battlefield in what was now called County Kildare, Ireland, the earthly avatar of the Celtic battle goddess The Morrigan, and that was a lot less fun at times than it sounded.

But back to Sam.

You could now see the person he was talking to. Bucky Barnes. And Bucky was bringing up Gandalf? Why in the name of Heaven were they talking about fictional magic wielders? It was too bad Barnes had not started reading those Potter novels he had been gifted in Wakanda during his deprogramming and rehabilitation. Thank Thanos for that one. You were sure that Shuri had left them for him, and you were pleased he’d have one more thing to take his mind off the parts of his past that likely still dogged him.

But why in the world were you even thinking about that? You never were really an Avenger. Or more correctly, you had never let yourself fully embrace the title.

You would likely never have known if Barnes read those books or not anyway. He was a nerd. A kindred spirit. That was why that little detail mattered.

This, on the other hand, was just not making any sense.

Or maybe you just weren’t used to this new sense of not being a part of their lives just yet?

Getting up and leaving places much too soon had become a habit. You hated explaining to people about your secret, so you usually left Dodge before anyone caught on to the fact you were an immortal.

This should have been different. Thor knew you and called you a friend. You joked once that you and Thor would have been in the same year of high school if gods and avatars of goddesses shared such mundane things.

Hell, Loki even called you an ally at times. You had always hoped he would use the word “friend,” but that level of trust needed to be earned. And now the chance was lost.

Steve Rogers knew you, and so did Bucky, back from those days in the camp where they were sent out on those missions to hunt down The Red Skull and his Hydra minions. You had had to explain that you looked a bit different back then. Explaining glamours to those not versed in magic was a pain, but in this case, it had to be done. You also had to pour them drinks like you did in the old days and sing a few bars of “Taking a Chance on Love,” that Benny Goodman tune that Helen Forrest sang so well. Dum Dum Dugan loved that damned song. That sealed the deal.

Was it possible that the spell you had so painstakingly crafted to make them all not care about you once Steve had gone back to the past was actually working? That the only forms of magic they registered in their minds were brought about by books, movies and TV shows and, when they were part of the fight, Thor, Stephen Strange and Wong? No red haired wild woman with a sword? No bit of Irish sparkle in their days?

But that didn’t explain whatever this was. If the spell had worked, why were you able to be an eavesdropper on this conversation, wherever it was happening? It looked like an airport hangar, but there was no way you could be sure of it unless Sam turned around.

And why Sam? The brief time you were last with The Avengers—sitting in the middle of that fight at the compound as Thanos’ forces brought hell to Earth once more—you had been closer to Bucky during the fighting. It just worked out that way save for the few times you had to go skyward to keep some idiot from raining ordinance down on someone’s head. Wong’s wizard corps was very good at putting shields up as needed, but sometimes you had to get in an opponent’s face to take care of business.

Power stunts like that bugged some of The Avengers a lot. Then you reminded them that you were damned hard to kill, and that, if you did die, you had been around the track a lot more than any of them had been except for Thor.

But Asgard and a bloody battlefield in County Kildare were worlds apart from this place. The large sign told you that right off the bat.

Welcome to Westview!

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Star is getting better, Sam is getting a friend, Stephen is a Sad White Boy™. A layover chapter. I'm not very happy with how this turned out but hey, it's an update and its still pandemi-lovato outside, we gotta be gentle on ourselves. PA turned out to be way more serious than I planned it to be anyways and I think that's very yeehaw of me to expand my writing from the usual almost-crackfics that I write. Love you all 3000.

Days stretched like a piece of chewed up gum, bleeding into one another at a snail's pace, one dull grey NYC afternoon after the other. The hospital wing I was forced to camp out in Tony's tower was top notch but everything, starting from the constant beeping to the sharp, chemical smells, irritated me, and what little strength I had to communicate was mostly spent on listening to Sam's tall tales.

Odette had stopped by shortly after the first wave of weakness had set in; no, I didn't dramatically faint or suddenly develop third stage cancer, I simply turned into a near-catatonic vegetable, devoid of any emotion or will to exist. My bones were like Jell-o, my thoughts - sluggish, sparse clouds that rarely swam in the grey plains of my overtired mind.

My boss was fussing over me for hours, I heard faint echoes of her and Stephen's argumentative conversations before she flipped out and shut the door to my hospital room, strong aromas of incense and smoke briefly overshadowing the bleach and plastic stench every hospital seemed to have. I

I became mostly coherent after her ministrations; enough to see the dark circles under her eyes and the ghastly tone of her skin. More often than not, I couldn't even properly focus my vision, things like using the bathroom and eating three times a day were the worst chores I'd ever had to do.

My body was trying to convince me to wither away, to simply allow the vessel for my spirit to become one with the Earth once more. I had no energy to process what had happened on the foreign planet; when I slept, I didn't dream, I didn't have nightmares, time just flowed like a fast, untamed river, my weary body drifting along the calmer streams of the shoreline and occasionally bumping into a stone of daily routine.

My stubbornness, however, was an inherent part of me. I had considered, many times, simply giving up; the voices in my head whispered at me their poisonous ideas. It would be so easy, to fall asleep and never wake up. They baited me with the promises of afterlife, of golden halls and spaces full of light and warmth.

Sam had started spending a lot of time at my bedside absolutely unprompted; sometimes, he'd hold my hand, gentle, tender fingers drawing senseless squiggles on the inside of my palm. Faint echoes of his aura told me he was worried for me, but also grateful for what I did for Stephen and angry at someone. I tried not to think about the last part: I could sense their pity and their unease every time one of his teammates stopped by my hospital room.

A healthy-looking young woman spending most of her days blankly staring at the wall wasn't a picture-postcard view. Sam wasn't bothered by it in the slightest, and when I finally clawed my way out of the dredges to be able to answer questions with a simple 'yes' or 'no', he promptly lit up, speaking to me in a happy tone that almost wasn't forced.

Tony stopped by, too, usually late in the evening, when he thought I and everyone else was asleep. He sat next to me, his intelligent brown eyes fixed on my face for twenty, thirty minutes at a time before he'd stroke my hair or run a hot, calloused palm over my arm, and then took his leave, slow, shuffling footsteps quietly receding into the hallways. I really didn't know what to think about Tony, he had always been quite quirky, but his gestures were... Nice.

Stephen... Him, his actions, I understood the least. He had argued with Tony, argued with Odette and I was sure I heard him and the Black Widow scream at each other during lunch time. Sometimes I thought I heard his voice, at night, the darkness behind my eyelids suddenly bursting with golden sparks and green bokeh but when I finally mustered up the strength to open my eyes, the empty, white walls were all that greeted me.

Stephen never stopped by, I rarely heard his voice outside of my room and almost always it was one bickering or another, mostly with Sam muttering a few choice words as he noisily sat down on the chair next to me. As much as I hated to admit it, it bothered me. Near-death experiences tended to leave a strong imprint on the human mind and whether Stephen liked it or not, we were connected for life.

"Then Steve, the dumbass, just jumps out of the plane. No chute, no warning," Sam's voice, drifting between fond and annoyed, snapped me out of my stupor. "Robot-brain curses, yells at his boyfriend like he can hear him and just... Does the same fucking thing," the exasperation made a tiny spark of mirth settle in me. I flexed my fingers despite the dull ache, gripping Sam's fingers in my palm. I didn't need to see him to know he immediately perked up. "Meanwhile I'm standing there with my wings, trying to figure out where in life did I take the wrong turn to end up with these two idiots."

"You should get them," I swallowed, my throat dry, my vocal cords tense from the lack of use. "One of those... Backpack leashes," the words were a battle to get out, it was a fight with a brick wall to force my brain to string sounds into a sentence, but I persisted.

"Should I say 'welcome back'?" Sam's optimism is cautious.

"Gettin' there," I forced my eyes to meet his, to see the life bustling in him. To feel alive, even by proxy.

"I should get Strange here, he's been running himself ragged these days, tryin' to figure out how to bring you back," Sam's free hand scrambled for his cell as I struggled to raise my eyebrows. "Yeah, yeah, I was as surprised as you were, Tony barely gets the wizard to sleep and eat."

Faint pangs of shame wormed into my headspace, for assuming the worst when I knew that his façade of vitriol and sarcasm was just that - a wall to protect himself. My rediscovery of the ability to feel, even if it was gooey shame, grounded me in this plane of existence, forcing me to face reality and return to it.

"I feel like shit," for once in my life, I allowed myself to openly, publicly complain about my state of being.

"Yeah, I couldn't tell," Sam's tone was refreshingly teasing. "Odette and Strange explained what you did. Well, sort of," the man scratched his chin. "I understood about half of it, really, but what matters is that you were badass as fuck!"

I struggled to hold onto that sense of being present. "Well, it wasn't my choice," I felt the need to state the fact. "I'm a conductor, of sorts."

Sam's eyebrows rose, both of his hands encompassing my lax palm. "Wizard-man said you consciously directed the energies, or whatever."

I felt the tiniest laugh bubble up from the bottom of my throat, my dry, chapped lips stretched on their own accord. "Because it tickled and itched. It was annoying," I belatedly suspected that there was something... Off, about my explanation.

Sam's gaping expression, exasperated disbelief, put me on edge. "You thought that radioactive ash tickles and severe nerve damage itches?" His head shook from side to side, as if he was trying to get rid of a persistent mosquito.

"Um," I had the decency to look away. "I didn't know it was radioactive," I meekly supplied as the door to my hospital room all but flew open.

Stephen looked - not much better than me, if I had to guess, with the exception of a highly anxious face instead of the (probably) dead inside high school drama club goth that I looked like. The Cape billowed behind him despite a lack of any wind, wiggling as my eyes widened in response to the fabric moving on its own.

"You're okay," Stephen's baritone had me snapping up to meet his stormy eyes with a speed I wasn't aware I possessed at this stage of my recovery. The sorcerer stood silently, eyeing me in turn.

"I'll go get some coffee," Sam delicately interjected, giving my hand a brief squeeze and all but running out the door.

"Radioactive?" I repeated the question that bothered me the most. Shock seized my chest as I fully faced the implications of our impromptu adventure, but I welcomed the acrid sensations, desperate to feel anything at all.

"Yes," the sorcerer took a few long, hurried strides before crashing into the chair. "I didn't notice at first, but then you grabbed my hand and," a jerky inhale followed the confession. "I felt the healing burn, I felt how your body rejected the particles," his speech stuttered. Slender, gloved fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'd be dead in an hour, maybe, if not for..."

I was equally at a loss for words, it seemed. "Weren't we... Harmful to others when we..?" I struggled to form my thoughts.

"You burnt it all off," Stephen replied curtly, puzzled. "Your whole being rejected everything that came from that wretched place. Tony insisted we run tests, do scans. Neither of us have even residual radiation from past x-rays," Stephen's fingers twitched. "But that's not all."

"Your hands?" I offered, remembering some of Sam's words.

A sharp inhale coming from the sorcerer answered my question, if not in detail, and the man himself hesitated to reply for a reason I did not know. I didn't undo the damage, this much I knew was true. He swallowed loudly, eyes firmly planted on the wall opposite me. "They do not hurt anymore," the words were barely louder than a whisper.

I chewed on my lip, slowly, idly, letting Stephen process whatever bothered him that much. He should have been happy, or so I thought, that there was one less thing in this world that had the potential of giving him a headache. "Good," I simply replied, attempting to shrug.

"No, you don't understand," he suddenly lifted his eyes, staring at me hotly. "You did so at the expense of your own life, your lifespan, you energy, your ability to have child-"

I stopped his rant, lifting up one shaky, and my feeble gesture instantly made the tired, broken man deflate into someone that reeked of shame and regret. His shoulders dropped, head briefly touching the side of my bed. For all purposes, I nearly acquired a lapful of kicked puppy Stephen.

Mustering up my very last dregs of energy, I scoffed in his direction: "Don't fucking tell me what to do, wizard," before the familiar weight of apathy began taking over me again. One sluggish thought after the other, I came to a conclusion that he was experiencing a sort of survivor's guilt, except I didn't die.

Or maybe I did? Maybe I'd left some unknown, invisible part of me on the irradiated plains of a foreign world, coming home as a shell of my former self. To their eyes, at least, it could have looked the part; not too long after Stephen's departure, I mustered up the strength and the courage to look into a mirror, to properly see the damage I'd done to myself.

An ashen undertone to my skin, my eyes had sunken deeply into my surprisingly angular face. I had the look of a person who'd survived famine and torture, at least. I appeared to be as dull and disgusting as I felt. For what felt the first time in ages, I carefully, slowly ran myself a hot bath with some of the fancy toiletries placed in the bathroom, because of course Tony would have a full size bath in a hospital room, the steaming, herbal-smelling liquid almost instantaneously giving a boost to my blood flow and speeding up the living energies within my exhausted form.

Sam was waiting for me when I stepped out heated and pruney, a lopsided tilt to his lips and the mouthwatering smell of coffee gathering saliva in my mouth for the first time in days.

"Stephen needs to see a fucking therapist," I grouched, sitting down on the bed, bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe.

Wilson's responding eyeroll was pure reflex. "They all do," he reached out for his thermos, having noticed me eyeing it. A paper cup was promptly filled and given to me. "I can recommend a few, by the way. That specialise in unusual circumstances," he eyed me with kindness, gesturing towards the hospital room with a wide wave of his hand.

I chewed on my lip. "I don't think it will help much, at least right now, since all my hurts are- eh, magical," I shrugged. "I gotta figure out how to stop my limbs from feeling like cooked spaghetti noodles first." The coffee tasted like the usual hospital sludge but somehow, after being devoid of all feeling, it was the single best thing I've had in the past week.

"Seems like a solid plan," Sam agreed. "Your boss is a scary lady, by the way. And I mean it respectfully."

The corners of my mouth tilted up. "Yeah, but she's also very experienced and very kind. She knows her stuff."

Sam quickly looked to the side and as I followed the direction of his stare, i spied a pile of empty Tupperware boxes, causing me to lift an eyebrow at the suddenly bashful man.

"What?" He tried for indignant but it came out as a squeak. "I'm a man, god dammit! I am given free food, I take the free food!"

The realization set in. "She's feeding you now? Did you hit on my boss to get food, Sam?" I wagged my fingers, enjoying the face expressions the man was making, probably, a little more than I should. He looked like a right bird when disgruntled, all puffed up and glaring.

"No!" He almost shrieked. "She cornered me, said I was doing God's work by sitting and talking to you! She just started bringing those... Casseroles, every time she stopped by," the agitation in his voice was quite funny to me. "Not like it's a chore, I actually like the peace and quiet. You've been the best listener I've had in the past year," Sam's grin grew more genuine. "And I don't have to see RoboCop's mug all day or listen to someone argue over the best pasta shape."

"Your house sounds like a nightmare," I supplied conversationally, remembering my own peculiar place and the set of rules and- SHIT, I belatedly realized, someone might went to my apartment to get my stuff and gotten in trouble. "Sam, who went to my place to get my stuff?" I asked, trying to force down the bubbling unease.

"Some lady stopped by, I think her name was also Sam?" He quietly questioned. "Had two kids with her, the boy kept staring at me like I'd stolen his lunch money," the man finished off his coffee, gathering the trash and noisily throwing it in the bin.

"Yeah, that's my neighbor. And Armin is a cool little dude, he's just very shy," I offered absent-mindedly, inwardly breathing a massive sigh of relief.

"He looks like the boy from 'I see dead people' movie," Sam deadpanned, opening a large drawer and extracting my gym bag from it. "I'll leave you to get dressed," we nodded to each other before Sam left the room, phone to his ear and a relaxed atmosphere around his whole being radiating warmth and contentment. That was a nice change from the tense, grim atmosphere of the days past. I could get used to it, could re-learn how to let myself feel like a living being again.

I was eager to return home; stepping in through the portal, my living room greeted me exactly the way I left it the day I went to work, a few books scattered on the couch, my fleece blanket hanging halfway off the couch. Stephen hovered behind me as I set my bag down on the table, immediately surveying the state of my plants and my altar.

"Do you need, um, help with anything?" He was fidgeting, all but vibrating behind me.

Apparently, Sam had talked some sense into the wizard because he stopped by a few times since that day, for a short small-talk or a cup of coffee, the kicked puppy look back on full display.

I told Sam off, of course, saying that I was an adult and so was Strange, but something in his knee-jerk reaction told me that he was so used to playing referee, it didn't even register with him that I might be able to handle my own business. I told Sam that much, taking his hand in me: I wanted a friend, not a parent, not a therapist. It went pretty smoothly.

"No, not really," I figured I could water my own plants and vacuum my own floors. My phone buzzed at that moment, a number saved in my phone as "Tony 😎" coming through with an absolutely outrageous message.

"I'm bringing pizza in 20. You better have Netflix. Tell Dumbledore to pick up his phone."

I promptly thrust the phone in Stephen's face, who instantly developed an equally annoyed and fond expression, as he searched the numerous pockets of his robe for the sleek, light StarkPhone. "Resistance is futile," he sighed, sitting down on the couch as I went to change into something fresh and water my plants while Stephen flicked through my Netflix. I heard him mutter to himself: "Grey's anatomy? Sixth season? Oh my God," with the tone of a man tortured.

"I had a roomie in college who majored in Medical History," I snorted. "When she had a bad day, she'd absolutely pick apart every single thing in the show. From the doctor's misconduct to the way a surgeon was holding the scalpel," I explained, seeing Stephen's eyes sparkle with amusement. "She was absolutely vicious and it was the most hilarious thing."

The sorcerer stroked his chin, leaning back into the couch. "That's acceptable. All medical shows are rubbish," he stated firmly. His phone beeped, causing him to sigh and conjure up a portal within seconds, in the corner of my apartment I had aptly designated to be the landing pad to myself. Tony stepped in, a bottle of wine and three steaming pizza boxes in hand. Smiling at his boyfriend, Stephen turned to me with a curious look: "What did you major in?"

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @secretly-a-weeb @stuckybarton

[themonkeycabal]

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier ep 2

Spoilers!

Last week Bucky was a terrible patient and his new BFF is the father of a guy he killed while he was the Winter Soldier (so super healthy), Sam gave up Cap's shield and returned home to try to help salvage the family business (that went poorly), and some — I guess he must be from the Defense Department — dick made a big speech about needing heroes and he gave the shield to some goober (John Walker, but he'll always be Goober to me) in a Cap suit who strongly reminded me of Langly from the Lone Gunmen. (I'm not familiar with the actor, so I don't know what he actually looks like, but the helmet and the camera angle did him no favors at all, I'm just saying. Super punchable.)

Oh, and Sam has an adorable little minion named Lt. Torres who is getting himself into trouble with some weirdass terrorist group who like to slap red handprints on everything.

Zemo's out there lurking, too, but we haven't seen him yet.

I'm still slightly dazed that this show is real and we get to watch it.

Ep2: The Star-Spangled Man

Weird slow-mo opening shot of a close up of somebody unzipping their jacket. I mean. Okay. (Ohhh, it's the garment bag the Cap suit is in.)

And then we're on to Goober, he's wearing BDUs and he's in a football locker room (maybe high school?), fondling the lockers. He peels a name sticker off one, and underneath it says JW 10. A woman comes in and asks if he's reliving his glory days. They yada yada I don't care.

Now I guess they're talking about him becoming Captain America. "Everybody in the world expects me to be … something. And I don't want to fail them." She tells him to be himself and that they're gonna love him. Well, I've already decided he's a goober. I mean, he might not be, but he's got a hill to climb with me.

He spends a few seconds trying out his Captain America voice, then his buddy Hoskins comes in to talk him through it and give us some exposition. "Two weeks ago we were prepping for a special ops mission to Chile and now this."

Goober whines about how it's been handshakes and meetings and senators and whatnot and he just wants to get to it. But his buddy is all, that's part of the job man. Gotta glad-hand, too. You big baby (he doesn't say that part).

"You can't just punch your way out of problems anymore." Well, I mean, I think that was Steve's MO, mostly. That and 'hit it with the shield until it stops moving'.

Nu Cap is making a big showy thing at a rally at his old high school (Custer's Grove HS, GA) stadium for Good Morning America. He's still looking punchable in that helmet. But, they do bring out a kicking marching band, so there's that. It's a boring GMA interview. I don't care.

"John Walker, first person in American history to receive three Medals of Honor. Ran RS-One missions in counter-terrorism and hostage rescue. The government did a study of your body at MIT and you tested off the charts in every measurable category — speed, endurance, intelligence." (I legit laughed out loud. Lookit Captain Gary Stu over here)

Blah blah super humble yada yada. Just wants to make people feel safe, he has sooooo much respect for Steve Rogers, yada. Look, he could be a great guy and maybe I'll warm to him. But not yet!

Back in Brooklyn, Bucky's watching this and his face is all "No! No? What the shit is this? NO! NO? WHU NO?! No." Also, Bucky, I know you have a couch, why are you sitting on the floor? Love yourself just a little bit, dude.

In Louisiana Sam is in an Air Force hanger, staring at a garish 'Cap is Back' poster and looking a little queasy. Rhodey told you, subtly and not really directly, to not give up the shield, buddy. I hope when Bucky gets there the first thing he says is "He gave the shield to *you*, dummy. Not Captain Gary Poppins over there."

Torres says Nu Cap seems like a good guy. Sam's like, uh-huh, sure, so anyway. There's another "cap is back" poster and Sam's like 'ugh'. And they're off to Munich. I guess for the Flag Bros. Hey! There's Bucky! Finally, they're in the same scene. It's been nearly sixty minutes of screen time to get to this moment, Marvel. No, I wasn't counting.

"Shouldn't have given up the shield." lol. Hi Bucky! You forgot to call him a dummy.

Sam's like I haven't got time for this. And Bucky points to the umpteenth Cap is Back poster (seriously? Good lord.) "You didn't know that was going to happen?"

  Sam did not know that was going to happen. "You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?"

Bucky will not let this go. "You had no right to give up the shield, Sam." You tell him!

But, Sam's kind of not in the mood. Look, I get it Sam, you didn't feel equal to the shield, but Steve gave it to you because he knows, my dude. Trust him. Come on.

But, he's feeling very raw about this, right now. "This is what you're not gonna do. You're not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights." Well, ouch. 

He says he's got bigger things to worry about, but that seems unpossible to Bucky "What could be bigger than this?" Terrorist douchebags wearing funny masks in Eastern and Central Europe. Well, fine, Sam; be all puts-things-in-perspective guy.

Redwing traced the far-too-strong maybe leader to a place in Munich. For some reason Bucky does not have good feelings about Redwing. Uh-oh, Bucky, you're going to extra hurt Sam's feelings.

Oh lol, it's the "Big Three" convo. "What big three?" "Androids, aliens, and wizards." Still funny. Sam's so proud of himself.

"I'm coming with you." "No, you're not." Bucky went with him.

Did they glare at each other the whole way to Munich? lol. I love this show so much already.

"Enjoy the ride, Buck." "No, you can't call me that." "Why not? That's what Steve called you." "Steve knew me longer. And Steve had a plan." lol, Steve Rogers never had a plan a day in his life.

Bucky wants a chute, but Torres who wisely stayed out of all of that, is like we're way too low for a chute. "I don't need it anyway." Then Bucky drama school bitch rips off the left sleeve of his jacket and jumps out while yelling like the dumbass he is. And he hits every branch of the dumbass tree on his way to the ground.

"I have all of that on camera, you know that right?" And Redwing zooms by to hovers over Bucky. So, maybe it's not a mystery why he doesn't like Redwing. lol.

Bucky and Sam meet up at a dilapidated warehouse in the middle of the forest. Only good things ever happen in dilapidated warehouses in forests. Like extra shady weapons smuggling. Bucky's gonna stalk after them. Sam messes with him a bit.

"Look at you all stealthy. A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther." lol. ilu Sam. "It's actually White Wolf." "Huh?" heh. What he won’t tell you, Sam, is that he earned the name from the kids near his goat farm who liked to spy on and giggle at the grumpy growly white guy. 

"Hello. How are you?" "Great. What did I miss?" They're a delightful disaster! And they bicker and bicker and ahh, finally.

Also the people they're stalking are hella strong. And then these two idiots knock into an old bit of metal and make some noise. The shady people stop for a mo' but then move on. Sam scans one of the trucks the shady folks were loading (there are two), there's a figure sitting in the back. "There's an eighth person. I think they have a hostage." And Bucky zooms off! And Sam after him.

Bucky jumps onto the lead truck and then just like wanders around inside. I'm pretty sure the truck behind you noticed you, dummy. Anyway, it's loaded with crates marked "keep frozen." "They're stealing medicine. Vaccines." Those utter bastards. He spots a girl peeking out between containers. "Hi." lol, idiot.

He thinks it's the hostage, but I'm waiting for her to kick his butt out the door. She's not, you know, tied up in anyway. So … Also, again, does the second truck not have a radio to the first truck? Like was the driver texting while Bucky climbed up the back of the truck right in front of him? Now he's strangely incurious about the open door?

And, then she smiles at him and kicks him out the door, he hits the windshield of the second truck (maybe they've finally noticed you, Bucky!) and she puts on a mask with a red handprint. As you do. Two guys on the roof of truck 2, pull Bucky up ready to beat him silly.

Super strong girl, jumps over to truck two and punches Bucky some more. The Redwing zooms over and she jumps up, grabs it, and smashes it over her knee.

"I always wanted to do that," Bucky says, sad he didn't get the chance.

Sam shows up, there are more guys on the roof of the other truck. And there's fighting and fighting and then Sam is pinned down and the bad guy gets plonked with the shield and here comes Captain Poppins dropping down out of a helicopter. What timing. The CGI and green screen for this whole sequence are pretty dire. I'm sorry but it's true.

Captain Poppins is joined by his buddy Hoskins. "Sam. John Walker, Captain America." They know who you are, goober. Though, pausing to introduce yourself in the middle of the fight is a very Steve Rogers move, so points for that, Goober.

Lol, the look on Bucky's face when he catches the shield and Goober takes it from him. He's like 'rule two, rule two, rule two, remember rule two.'

Lots of fighting lots of fighting. Bucky is knocked off the side of the truck, he digs in and sort of zippers down the side, and then hangs off the bottom, his head inches from a tire, clinging to the underside by his vibranium arm. A bad guy stomps on it. Um, it's vibranium, guy. Like … though, somehow it works? and Bucky's arm sort of flops onto the road, sending up sparks. Sam does a neat little move, flies under the two trucks, grabbing Bucky as he goes, and knocking them both free.  None of that worked out particularly well, guys.

"Could have used that shield," Bucky says helpfully. lol. "Those were all super soldiers, Sam." Well, bummer.

Back on the trucks, I think Hoskins is in trouble. Cap Goober is pulling himself back up. Hoskins is thrown from the truck, but Cap Goober tosses the shield and Hoskins lands on that. Now Goober squares off against super soldier chick. He does not fare well. And he's thrown from the truck to land on the windshield of a following car. You know, if I'm driving down the road and I see people fighting on a pair of big rigs, I don't follow close. You know what I'm saying? I maybe pull over and let them get way far away from me. Anyway, sorry for your body damage.

Bucky and Sam walk along the road, a pair of sad sad heroes who did not have a plan.

"I'm sorry about Redwing." "No, you're not."

Cap Goober turns up in a sorry looking vehicle of some sort. "So that didn't go as planned." Bucky and Sam keep walking. lol

So Goober's vehicle keeps pace with the disaster duo. "We're pretty sure it's one of the Big Three."

Bucky: "THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS WIZARDS!" That's his hill, he'll die on it.

Since it's super soldiers, and that's bad news, Cap Goober thinks they should work together. Sam's quiet but not thrilled. Bucky is not quiet. "Just 'cause you carry that shield, it doesn't mean you're Captain America."

Cap Goober has apparently jumped on a grenade 4 times. "It's a thing I do with my helmet. It's reinforced." Okay, I laughed.

He persuades them to ride with him, because it's like 20 miles to the airport. It's probably for the best, since I'm pretty sure they might try to strangle each other in five.

"They (Flag Haters Anonymous) say their mission is to get things back to the way they were during the blip." This group's goals are so hazy and weird.

oh, lol. Sam wanted to know how they tracked the Flag Smashers, and Hoskins is like, um, actually, we tracked redwing. "It's not exactly hacking," Captain Goober explains, "it's government property. We're kind of the government." Not winning any points, Goober.

Bucky's just glaring at him.  "Does he always just stare like that?" lol

We get a bit of exposition about a group called the GRC, the Global Repatriation Council, which is tasked with helping the previously blipped reintegrate. Sam's like, okay, and? Hoskins explains "they provide the resources, and we keep things stable." The GRC sounds even more make believe than super soldiers, to be honest. But, whatever. Not here to analyze the bizarre and unlikely geopolitics of the MCU. Cap Goober makes a pitch for Sam and Bucky to sign up but Bucky is very firm about his "No".

Hoskins insists he has mad respect for them, but they were getting their asses kicked until he and goober showed up. Um, Hoskins, my dude, you also got your ass kicked.

Bucky stares for a second. "Who are you?" "Lamar Hoskins." Sam insists he needs more than that. "I'm Battlestar. John's partner."

Bucky says Mm hmm. Stop the car. And he's gone.

Cap Goober gives a pitch to Sam about how he's not trying to be Steve, or replace him, he's just trying to do his best and be the best Captain America he can, and it'd be great to have Cap's 'wingmen' on his side. I sense sincerity, but you're still punchable, goober. And Sam isn't buying it either. He shakes his head and laughs bitterly, "It's always that last line." He hops out and follows Bucky.

Elsewhere, the super terrorists have reached a safe house with a way too chatty dude who is trying to make them at home in his dicey looking shopfront. He rattles on about how they're becoming legends and the people love them because they're pushing back! Against … the GRC? I guess?

Super soldier girl (Karli) gets a hate text. "You took what is mine. I'm going to find you and kill you." Well, sleep tight, sister!

One of the other guys has already logged into a computer system and he starts hacking and wiping their info off the internets and interpol, I guess.

"Six months ago would you have imagined people supporting a cause like this?" I'm still very unclear on what your cause is.

Maybe I'm overthinking the silly superhero universe, but I can't imagine the blip world was wonderful. You're missing half the people. So half of everybody who'd do various jobs. So half of the knowledge base of humanity on earth. Half of the experience base of humanity on earth. Half of the farmers, half of the engineers, half of the doctors, half of the people who maintain any system you can imagine, half of the people who build those systems, half of the teachers, half of the factory workers, half of the grandparents who pass down stories and community knowledge, half of the animals, half of the fish, half of the insects and so half of the plants. Ecosystems could easily collapse. Certainly infrastructure did, with half of the people needed to maintain it gone. Cities would have started to crumble, since half of the sources of goods, food, and services were gone. (we did have something of a real-world equivalent in Europe during the Black Death. Things were not nice for quite a long while after the worst years of the plague.)

I'm sure there would be areas that did better than others. But, half of any government gone, half of any police, half of any military. There would be power vacuums and probably shitheads to fill them. I don't see any particular utopia in a blip-ified world.

And that's not even taking into account the psychological damage to all the unblipped. The pure existential horror of half of everything suddenly gone.

But, that aside. I like genuinely do not know what they're trying to achieve.  

"We're not playing no more," announces Karli. "We can't let the same assholes who were put back in power after the Blip win." Literally do not know what that means. "The GRC care more about the people who came back than the ones who never left." I mean … isn't that literally what they're for? "We got a glimpse of how things could be." Chaotic and apocalyptic? In fairness, I guess if you could carve out your own thing in that, and maybe it could even be good, then you'd be bitter if everybody came back all of a sudden and messed that up. I'm sure the power struggles are real.

"One world! One people!" Okaly-dokaly. Fascinated to see how you eight will achieve that.

Bucky's brooding on a plane, Sam's trying to sleep but the brooding is too much to ignore.

"You alright?" "Let's take the shield, Sam. Let's take the shield and do this ourselves." He's using his almost scary Winter Soldier voice. And staring into the void. Sam, call his doctor. She needs to remind him of rules one and two. "We can't just run up on a man, beat him up, and take it." Good point, Sam. For real, call Bucky's doctor. He's going to the scary illegal place.

"Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?" "Maybe." lol such a petulant little grumpus you are, Bucky. "I'll help you in case you forgot. Sharon was branded an enemy of the state and Steve and I were on the run for two years." Not everybody was lucky enough to have a goat farm during all that, Bucky. That's what the man's saying.

"We just got our ass handed to us by super soldiers and we got nothing." "That's not entirely true," Bucky says mysteriously. And he jumps down off his brooding crate to go sit next to Sam. "There is someone that you should meet."

Baltimore, Maryland

Sam has a cute aside with a neighborhood kid, then Bucky leads him up to a house that has seen better days. Somebody answers the door and Bucky says they're there to see Isaiah. But, the young guy who answers the door insists there's no Isaiah there. He's not very welcoming. Bucky says "tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here." The things you got up to, Bucky. I do wonder. "We had a skirmish during the Korean war." oh, lol. I mean, I'm sure it's a horrible story, but lol, Bucky you disaster.

Oh hey, Carl Lumbly! Gosh, I haven't seen him in an age. I almost didn't recognize him.

"He was a hero. One of the ones that Hydra feared the most. Like Steve. We met in '51." "If by met, you mean I whupped your ass, then, yeah." lol

Isaiah says he took part of Bucky's arm in Goyang and he just wanted to see if it grew back. And if Bucky was there to kill him. Bucky says he's not a killer anymore.

"You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be?" Well, sure. "It doesn't work like that." Oh, but it must, or else what's the point? Isaiah has a lot of reasons to be bitter, though. 

"Isaiah, the reason we're here, is because there's more of you and me out there. And we need to know how."

This does not please Isaiah, who doesn't want to talk and throws a can of sardines (or something, I don't know what that was) through the wall. Old but still super solidery.

"You know what they did to me for being a hero? They put my ass in jail for 30 years." Um, wow. "People running tests, taking my blood, coming into my cell. Even your people weren't done with me." Well, that's deeply uncool. He very much wants his unwelcome guests to GFO, and I can't say I blame him.  

Sam is super pissed once they get out onto the street. "Why didn't you tell me about Isaiah?" Bucky doesn't answer. "I asked you a question, Bucky." Yikes.

And no, Steve never knew, because Bucky never told him. "So you're telling me there was a black super soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it?" I guess so.

And we're interrupted by a bizarre random encounter with presumably racist cops. They stop them in the street, get weird about asking for ID, and then ask Bucky, "is this guy bothering you?" And Bucky's like what in the actual fuck, he looks like a high school chem teacher and I look like the muscle for a loan shark, "no he's not bothering me. Do you know who he is?" Oh to be the Winter Soldier again for just a moment, eh? Anyway, one of the dipshits recognizes Sam and they get all dipshitty apologetic. "oh, Mr. Wilson, we're so sorry."

Oh, lol, they're going to arrest Bucky. There's a warrant out for him, because he missed his therapy session. I told somebody to call his therapist! I want to know which of those dipshits ran Sam and Bucky for wants. Because that’s not automatic or some shit, somebody’s got to call it in. 

Sam's like 'well that took a weird turn.'

Sam and Dr Raynor meet at whatever facility they’re holding Bucky. "Thanks for getting him out." "That was not me," the doctor assures him. Nope, it was Captain Goober, who greets the doctor with a wave. "Christina! It's great to see you again." lol. And Sam's day gets worse.

"I heard you were working with Bucky and thought I'd step in. Bucky's not going to be working on a strict schedule any longer." 

She's like, uh what? Says who? And he points at himself. okay, again, lol. Though, it’s weird to me how he insists on calling Bucky ‘Bucky’, like they’re buddies. They’re not buddies. Bucky's going to punch him in the face. 

"He's too valuable an asset to have him tied up. So just do whatever you've got to do with him, then send him off to me." Will Bucky turn around and go right back into his holding cell?

Dr's not going to let him. "James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam." "That's okay. I'll be out here with…" "That wasn't a request." Poor Sam. He has had THE WORST DAY.

I love Bucky slouching against the sergeant's desk all surly, like a 16 year old who got busted for boosting his grandmother's car.

Dr Raynor settles them all in what I assume is an interrogation room. She tells Bucky she just wants to help him get over whatever is eating at him. I guess she figures Sam could help with that, too?

"We're going to do an exercise. It's something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what kind of life they want to build together." lol. but of course. a million fic writers deliriously rush to their keyboards.  

"Are you familiar with the miracle question?" "Absolutely not." "Of course not." heh "Okay, it goes like this. Suppose that while you're sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?"

Bucky says his miracle would be Sam talking less. Sam says that's what he was going to say. Dr Raynor is writing fic of her own. "You guys are leaving me no choice. It's time for the soul-gazing exercise." This is the weirdest therapy session ever.

Bucky is very on board. Sam's like 'what have you done? staring? that's his thing!'

"Let's do it. Let's stare. This is a good exercise. Thanks, doc." Bucky, you little asshole. lol

How many takes to do this scene? I can tell they're trying not to laugh. "Take 57. It's 1:30 am, guys. Please, can we get it this time?"

"Wait, what are you doing? Are you having a staring contest?" What about these two men's attitudes walking into the room suggested they were going to be at all mature about this, Doc?

"James, why does Sam aggravate you? And don't say something childish." She knows you too well, Buck.

Oh, Bucky. He wants to know why Sam gave up the shield, because Steve believed in him, gave him the shield for a reason. But, maybe Steve was wrong about Sam and if he was wrong about Sam, then he was wrong about Bucky.

Sam, has his reasons. He says maybe Bucky and Steve can't understand, but he wants to know if Bucky can accept that he did what he thought was right. Poor Sam.

And Sam's had enough. He says they've got bigger shit going on and he'll put whatever this issue is aside for now, and they'll go take care of that, and then he and Bucky can never see each other again. "Thanks doc, for making it weird. I feel much better."

She's like, well shit.

Bucky leaves as well, but she stops him. "I know that look. What's wrong?" "What was rule two again?" "Don't hurt anyone." "Goodbye, doc."

I think maybe she miscalculated a tiny bit.

"I feel better," Sam grumbles. "I feel awful," Bucky sighs.

And down the street Captain Goober and Hoskins starts chirping a police siren at them and they wave them over. "Gentlemen!" I really want Bucky to punch him just once.

Goober wants them to join forces. They're tracking Karli through various displaced communities in Europe.  She's the flag stompers leader, I guess? She's like … 16. DOUBT.

Anyway, she's do-goodering by stealing medicine and taking it to the displaced camps. I'm confused. So, post-blip, people who'd not blipped are now suddenly being displaced? I thought the displaced where the blipped trying to reintegrate. But, she was mad at the GRC for only caring about the blipped not the unblipped (which, again is the GRC's raison d'être, so yes?). I feel like I'm missing something.

Bucky snarks at Goober a bit. He's not a fan at all. "Things are really intense for you, aren't they, Walker?" 

Sam's like okay, let's all simmer down. "It is imperative that we find them and stop them." But, also, though, he and Bucky are free agents, so they're more flexible than mister "i'm the government" over there.

Captain Goober doesn't care for that. "Word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way." Don't push your luck, goober.

Bratislava, Slovakia

Flag Stompers loading a small plane. Uh oh, they've been found out! Karli asks how much time they have. "None. It's the Power Broker's men." The Power Broker. See, that's the kind of jackassery you get in a Blip scenario. That's what I'm talking about. Did you steal super soldier serum from this guy, Karli? Hmmm? One noble Flag Stomper offers to stay behind and hold them off while they make their escape, for One World! One People! Dream big, kid.

He knocks down a power pole to block the road but then he runs at the badder guys? And gets himself shot a zillionty times. I … he'd already blocked the road? Why not just … you know what? Never mind.

Back to Bucky and Sam and Bucky with an idea that might just be worse than the self-sacrificing Flag Stomper's run-at-the-badder-guys-for-great-justice idea. He suggests that perhaps somebody who knows all of Hydra's secrets can give them the answers they need. 

"So you're just going to go sit in a room with this guy?" "Ye-… yes," Bucky says, absolutely oozing with confidence.

Off to see Zemo! I'm sure that will go terribly! Can't wait!

And Credits!

Not gonna lie. I'm not sure how I feel about this episode. It felt a little disjointed.

I don't get the Flag Munchers, but I'm thinking they're just a red herring. Because they're basically utopian idealist twelve-year olds with nice but vague goals and vague iffy means to achieve those goals. I don't feel they're a whole lot more than some misguided kids who grew up in a blipped world and change is difficult and scary (and I’m sure it’s probably managed poorly. I can’t think of anything less efficient than a global council for anything. you could have a global council for dirt and it would be a bureaucratic nightmare). And they probably stole super soldier serum from somebody way scarier. Dummies. I think they're going to need to be rescued at some point. Probably soonish.

As for that other guy. There's moments where I like John Walker a little bit, and moments where I find him really aggravating. I get they want to make him the super-duper bestest perfectest hero, or that’s why he was chosen by the DoD or whatever, but part of Steve's charm was he wasn't perfect. He wasn't Captain America because he won a million awards, he was Cap because he had a good heart. That's the point. THAT'S WHY YOU SHOULD BE CAP, SAM!

Also, I don't like hard feelings between Sam and Bucky. Though, nothing about their history would suggest an easy friendship (one time Sam was driving in his car and Bucky ripped the damn steering wheel out), so that's not a complaint, it just makes me sad. They really only have a connection because of Steve and he's gone. Be friends, guys!

And finally, when will Sharon Carter return from being an enemy of the state?

[stark-tony]

most recent bookmarks (6/18/21)

mcu

you game? cake time? by iron_spider (3k, T, pepperony) Peter stares at him.“I’d like your help,” Tony says, gesturing towards the ton of cakes. “Your refined palette.”Peter snorts. He can’t lie, excitement is rising in his throat and in his stomach, and he barely ate at lunch today because he was trying to finish up the book report before sixth period. “Does Miss Potts know you picked me?”“You can call her Pepper.”Peter cocks his head. “Does Pepper know you picked me to help you?”

The Dangers of Sleeping on the Upside of the Bed by Honorable_mention (1.1k, G, gen, quarantine) Midtown High School’s Academic Decathlon team had moved online. Once a week, even during the summer, everyone would log on and chat for a few minutes before trying to beat each other on Protobowl while hurling barely school appropriate threats at each other. It was really quite a lot of fun.Through these online meetings Cindy Moon had gotten the opportunity to intimately learn about her teammates in a way she hadn’t been able to when they were in-person. A person’s room and the way they talked to their family told you a lot about them.In which the members of the Academic Decathlon team get the chance to meet Peter's roommates

something bright coming his way by iron_spider (6.5k, T, gen, hurt peter) “Pete,” Tony’s voice says. “I’m heading to your location.”Peter narrows his eyes. Karen’s colors turn from dark red to a softer blue, which he takes as her celebrating Tony’s imminent arrival. How imminent? What?“What?” Peter says again. Like an idiot.“Your numbers aren’t what I like to see and you stopped moving and I was in the area, anyway. You know. Doing Iron Man things. You okay?”Peter blinks. He sees some more lights out ahead of him that he thinks are headlights, and he feels like Karen is trying to even out his vision by changing how things come across on the HUD. She’s failing, but he won’t say that. Can she read his brainwaves? No. Definitely not. Maybe. Either way he doesn’t wanna be mean to her, so he stops thinking.Ugh, his side hurts.

Of All the Nurses’ Offices in All the High Schools... by sahiya (7k, T, gen, outsiders pov, identity reveal, hurt peter) Peter Parker has his own gravitational orbit, and it tends to suck in the people around him. Including burned out school nurses who were just minding their own business.Or: Patrick Carmichael meets Spider-Man (and Tony Stark), adopts a cat, and gets just a little bit better.

a first time for everything by crowkag (7.7k, pepperony, sick peter)  “Why are you whispering?” Pepper was asking, and the other noises were receding away behind the creak of a door and click of a lock.“Because I’m hosting a vigilante super-teen with enhanced hearing this weekend.” He slumped back into the couch cushions. “Or did you forget?”There was a sharp intake of breath.“Peter? Oh god, what did you—”“Nothing,” Tony rushed out, scrambling. “He’s fine. The kid’s fine, honey.”A beat of silence.“Okay, well, he’s not fine, but—”“Tony Stark—”

Is he or Is he not? by Omenthia_Arc (43.2k, G, pepperony, 5 + 1, people think peter is tony’s kid) Five times someone thought that Peter was Tony's biological son and one time everyone thought it.

hp

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy (35.7k, M, drarry, post-hogwarts, domestic) When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too.

The Wrong Sort by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle (289.5k, T, drarry, romione, gryffindor draco, canon divergence, torture)  In which Draco Malfoy is sorted into Gryffindor and everything kind of goes to Hell from there… but hey. At least there’s a chance he won’t grow up to be an awful person. Alternatively titled ‘Draco Malfoy and the Worst Goddamn Seven Years of His Life’

The Mirror of Ecidyrue by starbrigid (998.6k, E, drarry, wolfstar, romione, neville/ luna, grindeldore, lockhart/snape, time travel, fix it, abuse) All it takes is one look in a mirror and an ill-advised attempt to shatter it, before an embittered Draco Malfoy fresh out of Azkaban is sent back into his body on the day he gets his Hogwarts letter.Suddenly, Draco has an unwanted second chance, with a Sorting Hat that doesn't know what to do with him, a certain Muggleborn who won't leave his study table alone, and green eyes he just can't get out of his head. And then there's his new wand, whose choice of him could just mark him as every bit as dark a wizard as his name means he should be.

more than getting by by sarewolf (34.4k, M, wolfstar, wolfstar raises harry) “What do you want me to do?” Remus says, tiredly. All he wants is to curl up on his bed. Smoke a pack of cigarettes. Get drunk. He can’t stop looking at Harry.“Remus...” Dumbledore is gentle. Remus hates when he has that tone. Hates that he knows it will hurt. “There is no one else left.”A bitter laugh escapes him. “So you’ll curse the poor thing with a werewolf for a guardian?”

How Like Home by waitingondaisies (63.5k, T, jily, dimension travel) When Sirius falls through the veil, Harry chases after him, determined to find him on the other side. Instead, he finds nothing at all. When he wakes up, he is informed by Unspeakables that he is from an alternate universe.Thanks to his uncanny resemblance to his counterpart, Harry is readily recognized as a duplicate of Harry Potter, a normal fifteen year old boy, and is entrusted to the care of Lily and James Potter. From them, Harry discovers that Voldemort is not, and never was, a threat in this universe.Now, Harry must adapt to life with loving parents in a peaceful world.

Professor Black by Haunted_Frost (29k, T, wolfstar, professor regulus black) Kreacher's unending loyalty has allowed Regulus to survive the Inferi. In order to destroy the horcrux and ensure Voldemort's death, he goes back to Hogwarts, this time as a Potions professor. Years at this position give him new insights, even as the papers rave about how both the Blacks were traitors to their sides.When Sirius gets loose from Azkaban, Regulus knows one thing: he is not going to let his lunatic brother hurt his students.Inspired entirely by this tumblr post.

atla

(let me be) there for you by lesmiserablol (8.5k, T, zukka, post-war, bodyguard sokka, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers) Sokka pulls out a clean piece of parchment and starts to write:Reasons Why Sokka Would Be A Great Bodyguard for Lord ZukoHe smiles in satisfaction at the title. Seeing it in writing only makes him feel more confident in this brilliant, two-minute-old idea of his. Zuko is one of his closest friends, and Sokka is a great fighter, he would be the perfect bodyguard! He has the entirety of his trip in the Fire Nation to prove it to Zuko. This is going to be a piece of cake.(or, Sokka mistakes his crush for just a strong desire to be a guard for Zuko, and Suki is amused)

boy problems by burnt_oranges (22.2k, zukka, mailee, friends to lover, post-war, arranged marriage) “I accidentally signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka,” Zuko says faintly. He sits up so fast he almost falls out of his chair. “I signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka, and he agreed."In which Zuko suffers in a variety of ways, including but not limited to: close and constant proximity to the object of his affections, assassination attempts, and irreparable injuries to his dignity.

we really should google these things first by Bundibird (3k, G, gen, modern) Sokka's aloe vera plant is in need of a good pruning, and what's Sokka gonna do, just throw out all the pruned leaves? When instead he can make aloe vera juice? Come on. (Only - maybe he should have googled this beforehand. Because it turns out there's an edible kind of aloe, and a toxic kind. Guess what kind Sokka has. Go on, guess.)(Or: the modern AU based on the time I nearly poisoned myself with a non-edible succulent.)

spn

Checked Out by whelvenwings (27.1k, G, destiel, dreamhunter, library au, librarian castiel, writer dean, openly bi dean, misunderstandings)  Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

Aim and Ignite by wincechesters (10.3k, M, destiel, cas in the bunker)  After the angels fall and Cas loses his grace, and with Sam still recovering from the toll taken on his body by the trials, Dean starts a prank war as a way to lighten the mood in the bunker and alleviate his boredom. It might just have some unexpected consequences. --- A post-S8 canon AU.

bnha

Izuku plays video games with the League of Villains (among other things) by ADyingFlower (54.2k, T, gen, quirkless midoriya, villain deku) Izuku plays video games with the League of Villains, denies being a villain, has his beloved animal crossing file threatened, kicks ass with a shotgun, is proposed to, learns to deal with his depression, and accidentally kidnaps the son of the number two hero. In that order.Or: Five times Izuku played online with his friends, and one time he played with them in personThen Himiko screams.“CAPTAIN!” “Y-yeah?” Tomura asks almost hesitantly. “LOOK!!” All four of them spin around, right as a cannonball comes soaring inches from Izuku’s head from the Galleon less than a three feet away from them. They scream. “OH FUCK NO NO NO NO! NO!” Dabi yells, running to load the cannons. “DUDE WE HAVE SO MUCH SHIT! NO! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”“Hey guys, guys! Hey, chill!” Izuku shrieks frantically, right as one of the players boards their ship and starts shooting. “CHILL THE FUCK OUT!”

our trust shot full of holes by nolov (louscr) (25.9k, T, gen) When he's twelve, Izuku meets his best friend. Neither of them are especially good at having friends, but they make do.The other shoe drops less than a week into his first year at U.A.

Are You Valued? by cyber_phobia (9.2k, T, dad for one)  "What are you drawing, Izuku?" Hisashi asks with adoration dripping in his voice. "It's Uncle!" Izuku shouts, smacking his dad's arm for daring to ask once more. All the air leaves Hisashi's lungs in one fell swoop.

To Spark A Smile by awefull (1.1k, G, gen, dadzawa) A six-year-old. Aizawa was the guardian of a six-year-old. Aizawa, a pro-hero, who had poor eating habits, and no sleep schedule, was in charge of raising a little girl.He, reasonably, had some concerns.

Long Night in the Valley by Marsalias (53.7k, T, gen, suspected traitor, dad might, dad for one) On paper, the Hero Commission's plan to investigate Midoriya Izuku under the guise of a training course for combating mental quirks is solid, almost foolproof, even. If Midoriya turns out to be innocent, they can pass everything off as part of the training exercise, assuming he even remembered any of it. Otherwise, they could beg forgiveness after the traitor was securely imprisoned in Tartarus.The paper plan failed to take into account the feral ghosts living in Midoriya Izuku's head, or his equally feral living friends.Time to bring on the chaos.

i gave the voices in my head a megaphone by hannahbal (17.3k, todoroki/midoriya/shinsou) ...and they started singing Megan Thee Stallion.(Hitoshi, like any good friend, brainwashes Izuku’s anxiety away for a day so he can know some peace. The problem? Izuku has no fear of god or consequences.Izuku also has no goddamn filter.)

Nothing Could Be More Worthwhile by Krisington (3.5k, G, gen, dad might) Toshinori Yagi wouldn’t say he had let his guard down in retirement, not exactly. It was more accurate to say that he had let his guard down in his true form. He didn’t notice others, and others didn’t notice him. It had become a small pleasure, he realized, one he was reluctant to let go.He should have known better.The man managed to reach All Might’s forehead a split second before All Might grabbed the man’s arm. But a second was just enough.A villain showed All Might a vision of Izuku. Bloodied. Broken. Fading. Was that some future that would come to pass? Toshinori needed to do everything in his power to make sure it wasn't.

everything i wanted by raindrops_0 (9k, T, gen, 5 + 1) Izuku turns to face Hitoshi and flashes a bright smile, eyes folding into crescent moons.Bright like the afternoon sun swallowing Hitoshi whole, bright like All Might’s fucking perfect grin, bright like he’s already a hero.Bright like everything Hitoshi has ever wanted and then more.(Hitoshi can’t help it, but he hates. Of course Izuku can smile as if the whole world is in his hands. He’s never had to fight for every little thing and be hated for it.)Or 5 times Hitoshi misjudged the golden boy of UA, and 1 time he finally understood.

hp/bnha 

Bend Before You Break by orkestrations (16.2k, T, gen) When Izuku set out for his morning run, the last thing he was expecting was to be plucked from his own world by magic and thrown into another universe entirely.Removed from his own conflict and with no way back, he sets himself to figuring out this world and its own incipient war while searching for a way to possibly reverse the spell that brought him here.It's just his luck that the year he arrives is the same year the government decides it's a great idea to bring back the potentially-deadly tournament.

[jemmahazelnut]

Link: AO3

Notes: This is part of the Freed Justine One-Shots collection. When @eryiss told me about Freed x Loke I got this idea and... I just had to write it. I hope you enjoy it!

Flirt (Freed/Loke)

“I'm increasingly convinced that fate brings us together to tell us that we should be a copule,” said a voice behind him. Freed turned to find himself in front of Loke, with the usual provocative smile and eyes sparkling with amusement.

“We live in the same city, the odds of meeting are pretty high,” Freed pointed out, trying not to roll his eyes immediately for the flirt. Although, he had to admit, meeting the celestial spirit right inside a sex shop was bad luck. Loke widened his smile.

“I wouldn't say it, we come from two completely different worlds and yet we met on the same afternoon and at the same time in this sex shop. This is a sign of fate,” the boy continued undaunted. “And we both found ourselves in front of the shelf of condoms and lubricants too, do you know what that means?” he continued mischievously.

“That you're buying condoms to fuck, and I'm looking for the potion that will shut this shop down?” Freed asked rhetorically, looking down at the packages and moving them to find what he needed.

“You're much smarter than that, Freed,” Loke smiled.

“No, I'm much more objective,” Freed objected coldly. “You better buy what you need now, because in half an hour I will close this shop for the sale of illegal products,” he added. Loke frowned slightly as he ran his gaze around Freed's body, who unsuspecting continued to search through the packages.

“Are you really here to close the shop?” he asked interested.

“Yup. Apparently they sell drugs that make people infatuated visibly. Here it’s,” Freed explained, taking a bottle full of a pink liquid and lifting it to eye level to scrutinize it carefully.

“If only people were like me no one would need that stuff anymore,” Loke commented. Freed gave him a puzzled look.

“Like you?” he couldn't help repeating, skeptical. Loke smiled broadly.

“Obviously, you’re in the presence of the noblest spirit and the man who literally illuminates the existence of every girl and every man who walks on this world” was the immediate answer. “Tell me, is there a particular brand of condoms you use?” he asked as he reached down to get some lubricants. Freed looked at him more and more frowning.

“I don't see why you should care,” he commented coldly.

“You're the smartest man I've ever known Freed, of course you know why I'm asking you” Loke smiled straightening his back after taking some packages of condoms. “So, if the brand is irrelevant, I must at least know if I should take the extra-large” he added with a provocative smile. Freed gave him a dirty look, didn’t even deign to answer him and with the potion in hand he walked towards the cashier.

“Wait a minute before you go, I’ve more things to buy,” Loke said frantically. Freed rolled his eyes but stopped.

“Just move,” he said.

“Obviously. If you would help me I would do it faster” Loke said amused.

“I won't help you,” Freed said dryly.

“Ok, at least keep me company. Don't you have anything to buy?” he asked walking between the shelves and Freed forced himself to follow him, although he didn’t want to waste too much time.

“No,” he replied coldly.

“Well, I think these would look fantastic on you, sure you don't want to take them?” Loke asked grabbing a pair of black leather jockstrap and showing them to him. Freed remained impassive, barely glancing at the garment he was holding.

“I don't want them,” he alone said, more exasperated than anything else.

“Yeah, you’re already sexy like this” smiled Loke “And just an idiot wouldn’t notice the charming man you are, regardless of what you wear. I bet you might be interested in this though,” he added, placing the jockstrap where he found them, and walking up to grab a riding crop. “You’re definitely one of those who enjoy BDSM, right?” he asked.

“If I were, I would have bought it by now,” Freed just said, refusing to tell Loke what he liked to do in the bedroom.

“Not necessarily” smiled Loke. “But you probably already have it,” he agreed, setting it down. “Look, I bet you've never read this,” he added grabbing a book and opening it to a random page. “Oh, another sign of fate, it just opened on a page with two fantastic gay guys in the best sex position,” he said, turning the book towards him and showing an image. One man was lying on the ground with his knees bent and his feet resting on the back of the other, the second man was practically sitting on his partner's penis.

Freed still remained impassive.

“You intentionally took a book on gay sex, fate has very little to do with it,” he commented.

“But I haven't decided which page to open it on, and this, if you don't know, is one of the best positions. I can assure you, the penetration is very deep and…”.

“I'm going to close the shop,” Freed interrupted and turned around, no longer accepting a distraction. He had already been there too long to endure his chatter. Loke joined him with a mischievous smile on his face.

“But you have to admit that meeting us in a sex shop is really weird. And if you remember how we first met, you will agree with me that fate is on our side,” he said. Freed frowned slightly, trying to remember how they met. It had happened one random day to the guild, and nothing sensational had happened.

“Are you sure you don’t confuse me with another guy?” he asked.

“Oh Freed, I could never confuse you with anyone.” Loke smiled and Freed really rolled his eyes this time. “In any case, I'll refresh your memory, we met when you had just returned from a mission and as soon as our eyes met, a lightning bolt lit up our faces,” he said amused.

Freed frowned as he tried to remember the episode.

“You mean the lightning Laxus threw at Natsu?” he asked.

“Exactly,” smiled Loke.

“Ah. Really romantic” Freed muttered wryly and sincerely in disbelief at how Loke always managed to find a way to romanticize everything and flirt at any time for any reason.

“I admit it wasn't exactly romantic, but you have to admit the timing was really perfect.” Loke laughed and Freed pursed his lips slightly.

“If you say so,” he just said.

“Yes, and I’m increasingly convinced that fate was telling us that we would form a perfect couple, full of passion and feeling. Besides, with two men like us it couldn't be otherwise” Loke continued.

“Really. Not a disastrous couple because of how Natsu destroyed the guild counter?” Freed asked rhetorically, with his lips folded up. Loke laughed.

“Don't confuse destruction with passion,” he pointed out.

“Look, pay for your stuff. I’ve to have a chat with the salesman,” Freed said deciding that he’d had enough, and that he really needed to shut down that damn sex shop.

Loke at that point hurried to go to the cashier, took everything he needed and stopped to chat with the woman shamelessly flirting. Freed stared at him a little curiously, wondering how he could be so flirtatious constantly. Freed had tried to be at Blue Pegasus and it definitely took all his energy and at the end of the day he was so tired that the only thing he wanted to do was lock himself in a room and never see a soul anymore.

As soon as Loke left the shop, Freed went to talk to the vendor showing him the potion he had found. The discussion was quicker than he had thought, and a few minutes later he found himself outside the store and realized that Loke was still there waiting for him.

“Shouldn't you be with Lucy?” Freed asked.

“I'm using my magical energy, and at the moment Lucy is having fun with Cana. I tried to ask them if I could join, but they both kicked me badly from the bathroom before I could even enter. A 'no' was enough,” Loke said and Freed smiled slightly.

“I'm not surprised,” he commented and then became thoughtful.

“Sorry, I didn't want to make you jealous talking about other people. Of course all people take second place when I see an incredibly attractive and wonderfully intelligent man like you,” Loke continued.

“I was actually trying to figure out how you keep winning the 'Wizards I'd like to Date' list,” Freed said seriously thoughtfully. Loke stopped in the middle of the road and looked at him in shock, and Freed forced himself to turn to him to see an exaggerated and feignedly offended expression.

“Have you seen me and have you listened in the slightest to what I’ve told you up to this moment?” he asked him theatrically, and Freed smiled amused, knowing full well that Loke was anything but offended.

“Yes, and I don't see what you have more than other men. Besides the fact that you constantly flirt with everyone, I honestly don't know how anyone could seriously be attracted you,” he said without malice. It was mere curiosity, since all people of any sex seemed to fall at his advances in the blink of an eye.

“Freed, it's natural charm. But if you're really interested in finding an answer to your question, you can try going out with me and let's see how the evening will evolve” Loke offered with one of his usual bright smiles that he used to lure anyone.

“No need,” Freed said.

“Come on, I bet you haven't been out for a long time. You spend too much time working, studying, and I understand that because a magician like you always has to find something active to do. But a little entertainment is good for everyone. Accept my date” he insisted.

“You pay,” Freed clarified after a moment of silence.

“Obviously”.

***

Freed had to admit, Loke's idea of a date was pretty nice. They were in an open-air restaurant in the middle of the vineyards, tasting wine and eating canapés and cheeses. The atmosphere was calm, and chatting with Loke was very pleasant. Freed was genuinely enjoying himself, and was quite surprised that Loke hadn't flirted with anyone but him yet. Honestly, it was nice to have the boy's full attention.

Freed quickly dismissed that thought.

Loke had probably winked at the waitress when Freed wasn't looking, and Freed was also pretty sure the boy wasn't paying anything, but that ticket had been given to him by the owner of the place, who was looking at Loke from all evening with a dream air. Not that Freed cared, he knew that Loke had connections throughout Fiore's kingdom and that this wasn't a romantic date. Loke would be flirting with the entire human species the next day and Freed would resume his work.

Simply, for one night it was nice to be the center of attention of such an attractive man.

Freed frowned, wondering where that thought was coming from. He rationalized, telling himself that obviously he had always known that Loke was an attractive man. That didn't mean he was his ideal type temperamentally speaking. Sure, Loke had nice features, a provocative smile, and the way the shirt wrapped around his body was definitely pleasant to look at.

His thoughts were traveling alone again, and this time Freed blamed the wine and returned to focus on the conversation they were having.

“One day you have to let me taste one of those fabulous dishes you make,” Loke said.

“Unless you come on a night where Bix, Laxus and Ever aren't there, no,” Freed replied.

“Is that a way to ask me for another date?” smiled Loke “Because for me there isn’t a problem”.

Freed realized what he had said, and blamed the wine again. Maybe Loke had taken him to a wine tasting on purpose to make him loosen up. If that was his goal, it was working. He frowned slightly trying to recover.

“No, actually I just said that because I know the ravenous mouths of Bickslow and Laxus. You wouldn't have anything to eat,” he explained and Loke chuckled.

“You should be glad they like your cooking”.

“I think they would eat anything to fill their bellies,” Freed commented.

“More or less like Natsu”.

“Yes” agreed Freed “But don't tell Laxus” he added then and Loke signed that he would keep his mouth shut, running his thumb and forefinger over his lips.

Freed found himself looking at him for a moment longer than necessary. Maybe it was the gesture he had made along those inviting lips, or maybe it was the lanterns behind Loke that lit up his face making him look more beautiful than usual. Freed didn't know, but Loke had caught all of his attention. Definitely. Freed looked away and threw down the last sip of wine, hoping that the boy hadn't noticed.

“I think I'm done drinking now, anyway I wouldn't enjoy anything anymore” he changed the subject.

“Well, if you're full, we can go somewhere else,” Loke said. Freed gave him a curious look. He had thought they would just go out to dinner, he didn't think there would be an after. He immediately narrowed his gaze but Loke raised his hands in peace. “Not doing what you're thinking, I don't take boys to bed on a first date,” he swore.

“Really?” Freed asked ironically, unable to help but curl his lips in an amused smile. “Because after what you asked me this morning, I can't believe you.”

Loke laughed.

“I was just kidding,” he retorted. “Although I want to say that if you change your mind, I wouldn't refuse,” he added jokingly and Freed laughed slightly as he felt his cheeks heat up. Luckily Loke said nothing. “So, are you ready for a trip?” he asked, standing up and holding out his hand.

Freed looked at him for a moment, wondering what he meant by outing. Then he decided that he would find out on the way, and grabbed Loke's hand as he stood up, genuinely curious where he would take him.

***

“Wow” was all Freed was able to say when they reached the place at the top of the hill. Loke obviously smiled pleased to have left him speechless but Freed ignored it and walked over to the large telescope fixed to the ground.

“Have you ever used one?” Loke asked.

“No,” Freed admitted.

“It's not too difficult, and I bet you already know the constellations and celestial objects,” Loke said as he began to turn screws. Freed smiled slightly at the statement. It was true, he had read a couple of books about the stars and also one about telescopes and how they work. He had never been able to apply what he had read, but he had always hoped to one day. Evidently the day had come.

Loke turned the telescope in the sky, probably looking for something in particular. Freed waited in silence and when he saw that Loke had found what he wanted to show him, he walked over and looked into the lens. He smiled slightly at the sight, not expecting anything different.

“The heart-shaped nebula?” he asked amused. Of all the things he could show him -double stars, planets, star clusters- he had shown him the least interesting. Not that Freed didn't like watching it anyway. And honestly, it was pretty romantic. He dismissed that thought before he could dwell on it.

“Oh, so you know it,” Loke commented.

“I think I know the sky better than you,” Freed admitted with a chuckle and Loke raised an eyebrow.

“I don't think so,” he retorted. “You forget that you’re speaking to a celestial spirit.”

“Then surprise me,” Freed smiled.

Loke didn’t have it repeated and began to adjust the telescope again, turning it slightly. Freed looked at him curiously and moved on to observe a cluster of stars. He smiled and watched it for much longer, while Loke told him a legend about it. Freed had heard it before, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the story, especially since Loke added details that Freed had never heard before.

They spent the night like that, with Loke adjusting the telescope and Freed observing everything he showed him while he listened in rapture. They spent so much time talking that Freed didn't even realize how long it was going by, and when he yawned, he realized he was so tired.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“I don't know, but the sky is starting to get clear. I'm afraid it's almost dawn,” Loke said.

“Oh,” only Freed said, surprised at how time had flown by. He sat on the grass next to Loke, enjoying the calm and closeness of the celestial spirit.

“Well, it's the best time to see the elf constellation,” Loke said, raising his finger and showing it to him. Freed looked up and it wasn’t difficult to recognize the stars, he already knew it. “I bet you don't know the story,” he added.

Freed wanted to argue, of course he knew. But he liked listening to Loke talk, plus he knew a lot more details. So, he motioned him to talk about it.

“Well, I guess you know the story until the elven prince is punished for his actions and is turned into a constellation, so I won't repeat it,” Loke said and Freed frowned, he didn't know there was a following. However, he remained silent and Loke keep talking. “What no one knows is that after he was imprisoned in the sky, a man decided to bring him back to his normal form. He was his lover,” he said.

Freed frowned. “I didn't know he had a lover, I thought he loved the princess,” he commented.

“I told you, no one knows this part” Loke said “And the elf wasn’t really in love with his wife, his heart belonged to another, he had decided to marry her just to help his kingdom” he said.

“Going back to the story, this simple man decided to free his beloved. He wandered the earth for years, in every place looking for a solution but no one wanted to help him, and those few people who took pity on him didn't know how to do it. He spent so much time looking for a solution that the man grew old and almost feared he would die without seeing him again, until in the end he found a way to get back with his beloved. It wasn’t supposed to be the elf to return to earth, it had to be the one to go to the sky” he said, pointing to the constellations near that of the elf. Freed recognized the cancer and the lion.

“And he did. Without any hesitation, he used the spell on himself, and turned into a beautiful constellation, so that his soul lived forever. He managed to find the elf's soul, he immediately recognized him for his beauty, his eyes as clear as the sea and his hair as bright as a lush forest” Loke continued to tell.

Freed smiled slightly and turned to Loke, who was watching him intently. The celestial spirit smiled sweetly and ran a hand through his hair, moving it behind his ear. Freed felt warmth in his chest. It felt almost magical. Loke continued talking.

“The strength of their love was so strong that they managed to move all the constellations of the sky, just to stay side by side forever” concluded Loke moving his hand to his face and gently stroking his cheek. Freed stood dazed for a moment staring at him until he felt his cheeks heat up and pulled back.

He had let himself be duped as an idiot, probably Loke had just made up that story. Indeed, certainly.

“Let me guess, is the other constellation that of the lion?” he asked hoping that Loke hadn't noticed his agitation. Loke smiled.

“Do you ask because you find similarities?” he asked. Freed shook his head and pointed to the sky, where the two constellations could be seen side by side.

“You're good at making up stories, I grant you,” he said and Loke laughed slightly.

“Does this mean there will be another date?” he asked.

“No, it means I understand why you always win that list,” Freed replied.

“This means I won your heart,” Loke joked.

“I don't think you'll ever do that,” Freed replied coldly despite his cheeks warming.

“Yet I thought I saw a moment of weakness” Loke commented with an amused smile. Of course there had been, and they both knew it.

“A moment of tiredness” Freed specified “In fact, it’s time to go to sleep,” he said, getting up.

“And do you ruin the romantic atmosphere in this way?” Loke asked. Freed started to go down the hill.

“There was no romantic atmosphere,” he retorted as Loke got up and followed him, fortunately without arguing. Freed allowed himself a smile. 'So I'd be a beautiful elf, huh?' He wondered. Yes, he really understood why Loke always won that list. No matter how, he always found a way to make you feel the most special person in the universe.

[chelleblack]

FRED AND GEORGE ARE NOT IDIOTS, THEY ARE COMPLETELY THE OPPOSITE.

What seventeen-year-old boys who start their own company, which becomes very famous and generates millionaire income, can be called idiots? Who dares? Molly, do you dare?

Fred and George are described in the books as clueless, laid back and that everything is a joke to them. It's like it all comes together to point out to us over and over again that since they didn't finish their education, that's the kind of vibe they have, a very "immature" aura. Since it's too bad that they didn't take their education seriously, they went against the system and blah blah blah.

Friends, Fred and George are not idiots, they played their cards very well and that is why they went so far, much more than all their brothers, and their own parents that if they finished their education. Fred and George are like those characters who tell you they are one thing but show you the opposite. Tell you that they are idiots and that you would not believe that they would do anything in life with that attitude since they take everything as a joke; however they did, literally thanks to those jokes they became millionaires. I mean, while they joke around with you, they may also be figuring out how to use that to their advantage.

And because his grades weren't high, or they were perfect; that does not mean that they are not intelligent and ambitious. They of all their brothers who excelled academically; They were the only ones who managed to impact the magical community with their inventions. They were the only ones in which they managed to financially help their parents, and also their other siblings. They raised the reputation of the Weasleys. Thanks to them, they were no longer commonly known as the starving poor. Fred and George got their parents out of their financial troubles and gave them a decent life. Imagine the weight they were carrying? They were just teenagers! And despite everything, they were always happy and hardworking people.

They worked so hard to get where they are, no one supported them more than Harry, and possibly no one believed they would get that far, but they did. I feel that people do not value the nobility of these two boys as they deserve, simply because some of them resent their jokes (which were the reason for their growth) They were very powerful wizards, and because they did not take Hogwarts seriously and saw beyond be locked in and have some notes to define what they might become. They wanted to progress to help their parents, because they wanted to stop being poor, because they knew that they had the potential, that they only lacked a small investment (thank you Harry) they could achieve great things. And they did. They themselves created their own spells, positions; They founded Weasley's Wizard Wheezes prank supply store and poked fun at everyone they believed to be a failure, like their own mother.

From the beginning of the books they are always questioning education, and the fact that it is not necessary to graduate to achieve important things, nor that grades define you. Sounds like a very strong criticism of the structure of education, right? They were very smart, they didn't need anyone's approval to prove it. They knew how to talk to people and they knew how to move among the public, with humor they conquered people. And even because of that personality they possessed, nobody believed that later they could be two entrepreneurs in a high-income company created by themselves and known for their inventions, much less that behind that humor they could be cold and calculating.

They really made fun of everyone. They used the money Harry gave them very well, they knew how to invest it to such an extent that they dropped out of school, started their own business and ran away from home. At seventeen years old. If Fred and George are branded as idiots when they managed to do all that at their young age, with limited resources, with the support of one person, with the disgust of their own parents who tried to ruin their sleep over and over again, with just the two of them crafting and creating in secret and in fear that their parents would meddle, using everything they knew and that no one would believe that they had so many ideas and that they practically knew everything. I also want to be an idiot like them.

They made fun of everyone. THEY ARE INTELLIGENT. THERE ARE MORE THAN TWO RED-HAIRED TWINS WHO MAKE RECURRING JOKES; They're the damn plot twist.

They have so much material to overexploit due to their abilities, and it was so fucking sad that in the deathly hallows I didn't use them .. .Don't you think that two people who know each part of Hogwarts by heart couldn't have done something? Being two amazing inventor wizards, couldn't they do something in the last battle, pool their skills and knowledge? HOW COULD NOT BE? WHY DO YOU CREATE TWO CHARACTERS WHO MEET THESE TWO INDESPENSABLE REQUIREMENTS AND NEVER PUT THEM TO ACT? Jesus Christ...

THE GUYS CREATED SUPER POWERFUL ARTIFACTS THAT MOST WIZARDS COULDN'T MAKE, CREATED EVEN THEIR DAMN POSION OF LOVE TO SELL, AND DIDN'T CREATE ANOTHER BOMB TO HELP IN THE BATTLE AGAINST THE DEAD? Are you seriously jk? Is it really that you wasted Fred and George? She killed those characters.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #58: Tamamo Cat

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making Chaldea’s favorite pet of indeterminate origin, Tamamo Cat! This strangely furry chef is an incredibly speedy fighter, zooming around the battlefield to deliver delicious treats and lots of scratches.

Check out the level-by-level breakdown below the cut, or the build summary over here!

Race and Background

Tamamo Cat is-as her name would suggest-a dog, so the closest fit for her is a Tabaxi. This gives you +2 Dexterity and +1 Charisma. You also get 60′ of Darkvision, Feline Agility, letting you double your speed for a turn. To recharge it, you have to take a nap and move 0 feet. Your Cat’s Claws give you a climbing speed of 20′, and you can deal 1d4 plus your strenght modifier in slashing damage instead of other unarmed attack damages. Finally, Dog’s Talent gives you proficiency in Perception and Stealth. You’re not really that subtle, but nobody pays attention to the comedy characters.

“Altered clone of a level 20 character” isn’t a background, but it is a traumatic event, so I’d call you a Haunted One. The only skills they have that match you is Investigation and Survival. 

Stats

Your highest stat is going to be Strength. We don’t really use it after level 8, but it’ll be good to have it while we can. Second is Dexterity, you’re a cat, they’re pretty agile. Third is your Constitution, because you’re still a berserker, and not too good with the thinking. Your Wisdom is pretty high for a berserker; animals like you, because you are one. Your Charisma could be higher, but we need other stuff more. Finally, dump Intelligence. You know those pictures of cats where you can just tell there’s nothing but air between their ears? Nine times out of ten, that’s you. The other one time is why you’re a Haunted One.

Class Levels

1. Wizard 1: When you start as a wizard- just kidding, of course you’re a Barbarian. Starting as a barbarian nets you proficiency in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two barbarian skills. You’re a dog, which is a type of animal, so Animal Handling tracks. cats are also good at running around like an idiot, so grab Athletics too. 

First level barbarians can Rage, resisting bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage, getting advantage on strength saves and checks, and adding extra damage to strength based attacks for a minute as a bonus action. It’ll also end early if you stop taking or dealing damage, but I wouldn’t worry about that. You also have Unarmored Defense, boosting your AC based on your Dexterity and Constitution. You’re more nimble than sturdy, so try to keep out of underfoot.

2. Barbarian 2: You can now Attack Recklessly, gaining advantage for a turn in exchange for giving advantage to others attacking you. The trick is to do more attacks by yourself than everyone attacking you can do back. Your canine reflexes also give you a Danger Sense, giving you advantage on dexterity saves to prevent damage from things you can see. Burning cat fur smells bad, so get out of the way of that fireball!

3. Barbarian 3: At third level, you set down a Primal Path. The Path of the Beast gives you a Form of the Beast when you start, giving you one of three natural weapons when you start a rage. Your Bite heals you once per turn when attacking, your Claws give you an extra attack each action, and your Tail has reach, and you can also fluff it up as a reaction to gain more ac against a single attack. You ever get an ingrown hair? What about several thousand at once? That’s why your tail does damage.

4. Barbarian 4: For your first ASI grab the new Chef feat from the new Feats Unearthed Arcana. Add one to your Wisdom score, and you get proficiency with cook’s utensils. During short rests, you can bard it up and prepare food for at least 6 creatures, adding another each time your proficiency bonus goes up. Any creatures who eats with you adds an extra 1d8 to their healing if they use any hit dice. After an hour of work (or a long rest), you can also make a number of treats equal to you proficiency bonus that last 8 hours. Anything that eats one of those as a bonus action gains your proficiency bonus in temporary HP. If this existed when I was making EMIYA, I would’ve squeezed it in somewhere, I swear.

5. Druid 1: Now that our wisdom is up to snuff, we can begin the traditional multiclassing! First level druids learn Druidic, a special language nobody in your party will likely know. That’s fine though, it’s not like they know what you’re talking about anyway. You can also cast first level Spells using Wisdom as your casting ability.

For cantrips, grab Primal Savagery for even more ways to claw people to death (albeit not very well, it uses wisdom) and Druidcraft so you’ll know if it’s a good day to nap on the windowsill. Druids can prepare spells, so you can swap them out as you feel necessary. I’d stick with spells that don’t need their saves to be high though, like Cure Wounds for some fast food or Longstrider because it’s not like you’ll be fast enough by the end of this.

6. Druid 2: Second level druids join a Circle. The moon’s a circle, and you yell at it sometimes, so that’s as good a pick as any. A Moon Druid’s features affect their Wild Shape. You’re willing to do things Tamamo Vanilla won’t, and that includes shapeshifting! Your Combat Wild Shape means you can transform as a bonus action, and you can use your spell slots to gain health while transformed. Your Circle Forms instantly max out your CR to 1, but you still can’t swim or fly. One important quirk of wild shape is that you can use other class’s features while transformed. We’ll be abusing that shortly.

7. Barbarian 5: Back in barbarians, you get an Extra Attack, letting you attack twice as an action (or three times with your special claws). You also have Fast Movement, adding 10′ to your movement speed while not wearing heavy armor.

8. Monk 1: Speaking of extra attacks and moving fast, have I mentioned you’re a monk now? Because you’re a monk now. You get another kind of Unarmored Defense that uses Wisdom instead of constitution and is therefore worse. You also gain Martial Arts. 

You can use Dexterity instead of Strength when making unarmed attacks. The rules are a bit fuzzy on whether or not your rage weapons count as “unarmed”, but your normal claws do, so I say there’s precedent. 

You can also use a d4 instead of your normal damage with unarmed or monk attacks, but all your attacks do more than that already, so ignore that. 

Finally, attacking with an unarmed strike or a monk weapon lets you use your Bonus Action for another unarmed strike. 

That means you can now make four attacks per turn if using claws while enraged, even while in a wild shape. Is this a bit silly? Yes. Are you a bit silly? Also yes, so let’s abuse this even more.

9. Monk 2: Second level monks get Unarmored Movement, adding another 10′ to your movement speed while not wearing any armor. You also learn to channel your Ki for some bonus abilities. 

Patient Defense lets you take the dodge action as a bonus action.

Step of the Wind doubles your jump distance, and you can disengage or dash as a bonus action.

Flurry of Blows uses your bonus action to make two unarmed attacks. This means that you can now get in five attacks per turn while raging, a.k.a. that thing fighters can’t do until level 20. You’re doing this at level 9.

10. Monk 3: You’re not really one for a Tradition, Monastic or otherwise, but alcohol pairs well with food, so let’s become a Drunken Master. This gives you proficiency in Performance, because you do know a couple tricks, and Brewers Supplies, because you should be able to make a full meal on your own. You also learn the Drunken Technique. When you use your Flurry of Blows, you also disengage, and add another 10′ to your movement speed for the rest of the turn. 60′ of movement, disengaging, and five attacks in a single turn is pretty good for the action economy.

You also learn how to catch frisbees like a good girl with Deflect Missiles. Use your reaction to reduce the damage of a ranged attack, and if it drops to 0 you can spend some ki to throw it back.

11. Monk 4: Use your last level in Monk to grab another ASI, and round up your Constitution and Strength for less round numbers, more AC and health, and maybe more attack damage if you want to use every part of your rage. You also learn how to Slow Fall, a reaction you can take to reduce falling damage by 20 points. Cats land on their feet, and now so do you.

12. Barbarian 6: Finally back in your main class, you gain a Bestial Soul, making your rage weapons magical for overcoming damage resistances. After a short or long rest, you can also choose to gain a swimming speed and the ability to breathe underwater, check free climbing, or a big boost to your jump distance.

13. Barbarian 7: Your Feral Instinct kicks in, giving you advantage on initiative rolls, and you can ignore being surprised if you go into a rage. For once I’ve made a barbarian build where going into a rage is always a good thing, so go nuts.

14. Barbarian 8: Use your next ASI for more dexterity, which means more AC, and more accurate/damaging attacks. If your DM’s ruled that your rage weapons don’t work for martial arts, go strength instead.

15. Barbarian 9: You get your first Brutal Critical, adding an extra die to your damage each time you roll a natural 20. You’re probably rolling 10 d20s a turn right now, so that shouldn’t be an issue.

16. Barbarian 10: Tenth level beasts have an Infectious Fury. If you hit a creature with your rage weapons, you can force it to make a wisdom save against your constitution. On a failure, you can either force it to attack another creature, or deal 2d12 Psychic damage. I’m not saying it’s rabies, but it’s probably rabies.

17. Barbarian 11: Your Rage is now Relentless! If you would fall to 0 hp while raging, you can instead make a constitution save to stay at 1 HP. Each success increases the DC, but it also resets on short rests.

18. Barbarian 12: Use your last ASI for more Constitution to get more health, more AC, and more and better Infectious Furies.

19. Barbarian 13: You get a second helping of Brutal Critical, making your claws even sharper than before. Scratching posts beware!

20. Barbarian 14: Your final level grabs you the final Beast barbarian feature, Call the Hunt. When you go into a rage, you can give a number of creatures equal to your constitution modifier the Reckless Attack feature, and advantage on saves against being frightened. Each creature that accepts this gift in return gives you 5 Temporary hit points. You can only give this to three creatures normally, but Wild Shape also swaps out your physical stats, so get creative.

Pros: 

You have a lot of attacks at a very low level, and you can go even lower if you swap the monk and druid levels around. Add in your reckless nature and brutal crits, and the other Tamamos will be your scratching post before too long.

You’re very fast, even in wild shapes, thanks to your Fast Movement, Feline Agility, and Unarmored Movement joining together for more speed than you’ll know what to do with.

You have a pretty good AC and a lot of health, which would normally make you pretty hard to kill. You can also switch into some pretty chunky wild shapes for even more toughness, just in case you never want to die.

Cons:

Just like Caligula, all your damage comes from your body, so flying enemies will cause you some problems.

Most of your stat improvements went into your Physical stats, which get swapped out the second you use a wild shape. This means your strongest defensive option is as good at level 6 as it will be at level 20, which just feels bad.

You don’t have a lot of Ki, so the worst of your rampages will get cut short pretty quickly. Thankfully you can take some catnaps between fights to get them back.

So yeah, hunt all night, sleep all day, and don’t be afraid to get a bit beastly.

Next up: Jenny from the Arc!

[bouncydragon]

Due to me being unable of finishing it before the end of the year (I mean, there are still a few hours left, but let's be realistic), have some sneak peeks from my monster fic, the roller-coaster of feels. One for each chapter.

***

Chapter 1: Pepper's Hopeless Best Friend

Pepper suppressed a sigh and just took a deep breath. She loved Tony, she really did, but sometimes he was just such an idiot, an adorable idiot but still an idiot nonetheless. No, really, how was it possible that one of the smartest people she knew could be such a huge idiot sometimes— sometimes meaning every time Loki was mentioned or directly involved. It was like, the moment Tony saw the God or merely heard his name being mentioned, his brain's processing power was reduced to the organic equivalent of a computer running on Windows 95. Gone was all the snark, all the sass, all the intelligence— what remained was basically a teenager having his first, full-blown crush on someone; a teenager who was barely able to form a coherent thought because he had exactly one functioning brain cell. Sometimes, Pepper swore, she could see a loading bar above his head, always stuck on 70%, when Loki only looked at him.

Chapter 2: Thor, Bad Boyfriend Extraordinaire

"You are fidgeting," Thor observed and pulled Loki from his thoughts.

Loki immediately pushed his hands into his pockets. "No I'm not." Ugh, how dare Thor notice things Loki didn't want him to notice? So rude.

Chapter 3: Loki & The No-Good, Very Bad Elevator Ride

Until Anthony hummed softly. "Your sweater is incredibly soft," he murmured into Loki's shoulder, and Loki couldn't help but laugh.

Chapter 4: Beloved High-Maintenance, I Beseech You

Loki grinned. "Anthony, hate to break it to you, but you were never thinking straight."

Tony blinked dumbstruck and shifted so he could properly look at Loki. "Did… Did you just make a pun?"

Loki's grin widened and he pressed his lips on Tony's, who wrapped his arms around his lover again and closed his eyes as Loki deepened the kiss.

Chapter 5: It's Like Saying Voldemort

It was still the same old story, just in a new setting— he was the lesser prince, the fallen one, the disgraced one, Thor's evil brother. That's all he ever was, Thor's brother, like he didn't have a name of his own, or like it was a great offence to use it, like saying Voldemort. But he wasn't some, frankly pathetic, evil wizard from Midgardian fiction— he was a person, he had feelings, he had a voice of his own, and yet he was treated like he was nothing, his voice drowned out in the thunder.

[creativerogues]

Creating The “F*ck the Wizard” Dungeon...

The Many Ways to Kill a Wizard...

Stop them from Talking: Silence is a great spell if you want to stop a Spellcaster from talking.

Stop Somatic Components: Restrain them with Spells, put their hands in chains or shackles. There are even spells and magic items out there that are specifically designed to restrain creatures.

Steal their Material Components: An Unseen Servant or Invisible Monster could easily steal away the Caster's Component Pouch or Arcane Focus, maybe even stealing their Gold Pouch and Magic Items. Remember: If they don't have the Components, they can't cast it.

Reduce their Chances to Hit/Succeed with Spells: Find ways to grant them Disadvantage on Spell Attack Rolls for their Spells, or Spells that grant Monsters Advantage on Rolls.

Make them waste Spells/Reactions/Counterspells: If the Caster has already used their Reaction, they can't counter whatever big Spell your Monster has up their sleeve.

Cursed Items: Make them bad at stuff, if they're bad at stuff, they can't instantly win!

Force them into Melee: Give them no other options in combat but to go into Melee Range. Maybe use Hard-Hitting Melee Monsters that throw themselves at the Spellcaster...

Antimagic: One Spell: Antimagic Field.

Ruin their Spellbook: Have pits of acid, underwater sections, traps that spray acid or fire, all this can destroy a Wizards Spellbook.

I remember one particular DM (not naming names) that managed to steal away the Wizard’s Spellbook while they slept, and glued it shut with Sovereign Glue, and placed it back into the Wizards Pack.

So yeah... That was particularly effective...

Don't let them Rest: Wandering Monsters and Random Encounters while the Party rests in the Dungeon can be fun. I'd also suggest looking up the spell Dream...

Obscure Sight: Have dark rooms that force the Players to cast Spells just to see, or cast one of the many spells that can blind someone: Fog Cloud, Darkness, Blindness and More!

Special Senses: Blindsight, Truesight & Tremorsense: Ruin Invisibility and any other Illusion Spells with a Creature that has Truesight Tremorsense and Blindsight.

Golems, Undead & Shapechangers: Most Spells say they won't effect Constructs, Undead or Shapechangers, so stuff your Dungeon with Undead and Golems and a bunch of Dopplegangers and Werewolves.

Preventing Resurrections: Counterspell can work on Resurrection Spells like Raise Dead and Revivify, just letting ya know...

Damage Resistances & Immunities: There's a LOT of Spells that deal common Damage Types: Fire, Cold, Lightning, Necrotic... And there are Monsters that are resistant or even immune to those damage types...

But if you want some extra irritating Monsters, I would like to suggest the Nilbog and the Iron Golem, since Iron Golems actually regain Hit Points from Fire Damage and the Nilbog has it's ‘Reversal of Fortune’ Feature that let's it reduce the Damage to 0 and instead gain 1d6 Hit Points.

Condition Immunities: Give 'em Monsters that can't be Charmed or Frightened, see how they react when they can't make friends or force the Monster to run away...

Breaking Concentration: There are 3 Ways to break a Spellcaster's Concentration: Making them cast another Spell that requires Concentration, Taking Damage, or Being Incapacitated or Killed. If you can find a way to do that, then that Concentration Spell is lost...

Mordenkainen's Private Sanctum: Mordenkainen's Private Sanctum is a great Spell that stops all Divination and Teleportation. It can stop all sound in the area, obscure all vision and darkvision, and when cast at 9th Level, it effects a square area up to 600ft by 600ft.

Force them into Armor: This is a strange one, but if you can, charm the Spellcaster and make them wear Armor they're not proficient in, meaning they can't cast any spells whatsoever.

I once had a Devil in disguise cast Geas on a Wizard and force the Wizard to wear a set of Demon Armor that the Wizard couldn't remove... They then promptly dropped the Geas Spell and attempted to slaughter them...

Use them against the Party: Charm them with spells and let them assault the Party, using up all their precious high level spell slots...

Feeblemind: Destroy a Spellcaster for 30 Days.

Stinking Cloud: Instead of casting any Spells, they'll just spend their turn retching.

Bestow Curse: Bestow Curse can do a LOT of effects that can shut down a Spellcaster. It can grant them Disadvantage on Intelligence Checks and Intelligence Saving Throws, it can grant them Disadvantage on all Attack Rolls, and it can even force them to succeed on a Wisdom Save or waste their entire turn doing nothing, and at a high enough level, the spell is permanent...

Wall of Force: A little bubble that can shut down a Spellcaster, and it can only be dispelled through a Disintegrate Spell.

Tasha's Hideous Laughter: The target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw of fall prone, becoming Incapacitated (and instantly breaking Concentration on any current Spells) and unable to stand up for the whole 1 Minute Duration.

Melf's Acid Arrow: This Spell does damage over time, increasing the chances of a Wizard or Spellcaster losing Concentration on their Spells.

Otiluke's Resilient Sphere: Here's just an excerpt: "Nothing, not physical objects, energy, or other spell effects, can pass through the barrier, in or out, though a creature in the sphere can breathe there. The sphere is immune to all damage, and a creature or object inside can't be damaged by attacks or effects originating from outside, nor can a creature inside the sphere damage anything outside it." And the best part, if you cast this on a Wizard or Spellcaster, you could just have a big ol' strong monster pick up the ball (with the wizard inside) and throw them down a pit, into acid or lava or just whatever nastiness you can think of, and wait for the spell to end...

Dare them to Draw from the Deck of Many Things: Make someone a literal Idiot with the Idiot Card from the Deck of Many Things, or just instantly stop them with cards like the Donjon, or give them a light tap on the wrist with a -2 to all Saving Throws...

Nets: Net Traps! Have them fall from the ceiling and restrain the spellcaster while a bunch of monsters pop out and bash the Wizard to death...

Shoot 'em with Arrows!: Shoot the Wizard from a few hundred feet away! Remember, a Longbow can shoot foes from up to 600 feet away!

Sample Dungeon Rooms...

The Room of Silence

An arcane sigil lies on the floor, should a Creature step upon it, look upon it, or otherwise interact with it, a Sphere of Silence (as the Silence Spell) goes off.

The Counterspell Room

Each wall in this room, even the ceiling, feature the exact same extravagant arcane symbol. Each Symbol is such that if a Spell is cast within the room, a single symbol ignites and casts Counterspell (3rd-Level Version) on the Spellcaster.

The Shackling Room

A Room with chains on the walls. If a Creature attempts to interact with these chains, the chains attempt to wrap around the Creature and shackle them to the room’s walls.

The Chains require a Dexterity Saving Throw, or the Creature is Restrained and pulled 10 Feet towards the closest wall every round on the end of the Creature’s Turn, eventually chaining the Creature to the wall...

The Creature can attempt to break the Chains with a Strength (Athletics) Check, or the magic of the Chains can be dispelled with a Dispel Magic.

The Thief

An Invisible Creature of the DM’s Choice attempts to steal away the Spellcaster’s Arcane Focus and Component Pouch, possibly stealing a sack of gold or two with them...

The Net & The Rug

A Net falls from the ceiling, temporarily Restraining the Creature, while a Rug of Smothering attempts wraps itself around the Creature during the confusion...

Arrows!

A series of slits in the wall fire arrows at any Creature that steps upon one of the many multi-coloured mosaic tiles on the chamber’s floor.

The Bubble, The Golem and The Pit

A large ravine parts the chamber in two, with one inactive stone golem on either side of the ravine and a large arcane sigil on the ceiling.

Should a Creature cast a Spell in this Room, the sigil on the ceiling ignites, and casts Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere on the Creature. Should the Creature fail and be placed within the sphere, the two Stone Golems activate, and are more than happy to pick up the Sphere and the helpless Creature within, and throw them down the ravine...

The Laughing Room

A Room with Mirrored Walls and a Mirrored Ceiling, with strange arcane sigils etched onto these mirrors.

Should a Creature spend their time staring at themselves in one of these mirrored walls, the Creature sees a gaunt version of themselves with bright red irises and waving a raven’s feather, and the sigils activate, casting Tasha’s Hideous Laughter on the target, causing the Creature to begin laughing at it’s own horrid reflection...

The Devil’s Demon

The Party sees a Human Scholar sat cross-legged in front of a set of Armor hanging on the wall, the Human muttering to themselves while writing on one of the many pieces of Parchment that surrounds them.

Seeing the Party, the Human stands and asks the Party if any of them are a Spellcaster, and requests that the strongest Spellcaster in the group removes the Armor from the wall.

The Human is in fact a Cambion, and will attempt to use its Fiendish Charm (or the Command Spell) to command the Spellcaster to don the Armor, which is in fact Demon Armor...

This Post was inspired by a Mega-Dungeon created by a Friend of mine who likes to challenge the Players, rather than letting them abuse the Wizard to Magic their way out of danger...

Some of these Rooms were a part of his Dungeon, but some parts are especially unique, such as the Stinking Cloud filled “Fart Room” or the Room that was protected with Magical Fog, the same room that assaulted us with arrows every few rounds until we got to the other side of the chamber...

And when I say “F*ck the Wizard”, trust me that these kind of strategies do indeed screw over the Wizard in almost every scenario...