#we should study him in psychology classes

[mossytrashcan]

I really like how tiktok is making beyonce out to be king von, cuz like we already have king von. even if she killed left eye, aaliyah, michael jackson and tupac, that is STILL a smaller body count than king von. that man was fr the devil

[ellecdc]

Hiii, so i got really excited about all the new ships and i wondering if i could request a poly!prongsfoot x female reader where maybe the reader completely matches their energy and its like a college au and the boys bring reader to meet all their friends for the first time and everybody is like… woah… now theres 3 of them. Just some super energetic cutesy fluff if you dont mind, thank you for considering this i really appreciate it!!! Hope your doing amazing🫶🏻

omg so I saw a post the other day and there's another ship name for Sirius x James = starbucks!! How cute? Thanks for your request and your patience - it took me some time to flush this out (I think any new ships likely will take me longer!)

poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader who's just like them

Remus doesn’t think he’s ever seen his two best friends as excited as they currently were, sitting and waiting (rather impatiently) for your arrival. 

Peter, Mary, and Lily were sitting on the booth against the wall, with Remus and Regulus sat together to the right of them, with Sirius and James to their right.

Sirius and James had been talking about this ‘perfect girl’ they met in their psych 101 class last semester, likely since the very day they met you if Remus assumed correctly. 

“She’s so pretty, Moons! I’ve never seen eyes as beautiful as hers.”

“She’s so funny! You should have heard her snarking the frat boys behind us in yesterday’s lecture.”

“She’s brilliant! She helped us study and I got 88% on our last exam!”

And now, a whole semester and a half later, they’d finally convinced you to meet their friends.

Lord knows how two of the most hyperactive and mischievous people Remus has ever had the pleasure of knowing managed to trick another person to put up with them voluntarily, but he did really like seeing them so happy and excited in life; both so deserving for different reasons. 

James deserved all the love that he so openly and willingly shared with others, and Sirius had worked so hard to become the man he is and deserved to be celebrated for it.

So, if what made them happy was a cute girl from their intro to psychology course? Well, Remus couldn’t argue with them. 

“I can’t wait until she gets here; you’re all going to love her.” James declared, shifting closer to Sirius in his excitement who quickly threw his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders. 

“So, don’t embarrass us, alright? We want to keep her around.” Sirius added, placing a chaste kiss to James' shoulder as James practically vibrated in his seat.

“I assure you, Sirius, you do not need our help embarrassing you.” Regulus drawled, not bothering to look up from the drink’s menu in his hand.

“Oi! You take that back!” Sirius barked as he flicked the menu up into Regulus’ face. 

Remus had to quickly grip his boyfriend’s shoulder to hold him in his seat as he looked like he was about to crawl over the table to strangle his brother.

“Easy, babe.” Remus commented teasingly, “I doubt Pete, Lily, or Mary will bother calling 999 if you kill him, but their new girl may not be as understanding.”

Sirius harrumphed earning him a conciliatory kiss from James as Pete and the girls just snickered. 

Regulus’ muttering was interrupted by a commotion at the door as a group sitting near the entrance cheered at a new arrival.

“Yay! Are you finally joining us for a pub night, Y/N?!” someone shouted, causing both James and Sirius’ head to snap to attention; Remus was sure if they were dogs, their tails would be wagging and their ears would have perked up. 

“God no! I wouldn’t dream of it!” You called back teasingly, pulling away from someone who had stood to give you a hug. 

“Foul!” The person called back as their friend group laughed.

“Next time!” You promised as you moved through the crowd, face lighting up somehow even brighter when you spotted James and Sirius.

James was up on his feet the second you made eye contact with him and he all but carried you over to the group.

“Hi angel! I’m so glad you could make it!” He cheered at you as he kissed your cheek. 

“Of course, Jamie. I was looking forward to it.” You responded as you beamed at Sirius who stood as well to give you a proper hug.

“Hiya, dollface! How was your day?” Sirius asked as he held you to his chest.

“Good! Good, I’m looking forward to a drink, though.” You laughed, shucking your jacket off which James was quick to take from you to hang it on the hook attached to the booth. 

“Everyone; this is Y/N! Y/N, that there is our best mate Remus, that’s his boyfriend and less importantly my brother Regulus,” Sirius introduced, causing Regulus to scowl and Remus to chuckle as he consolingly squeezed Regulus’ knee. “And that there is our other best mate Peter, and these beauties here are Lily and Mary.”

You enthusiastically exchanged handshakes with those you could reach and no less enthusiastic waves with those who you couldn’t.

“It’s so nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Which is concerning, considering you guys met in class?” Regulus commented, earning him a booming laugh from you.

“I was doing too well in that class anyways; it’s good to keep your GPA well rounded.” You responded in jest, gently nudging a furiously blushing James with your elbow as Sirius beamed at the two of you from your other side. 

As the group of you spoke, Remus noticed a number of people coming up to clap James or Sirius on the shoulders who knew them from their classes or various extracurriculars., though that wasn’t all that unusual when attending a pub night near campus. What Remus found to be quite phenomenal was how many people happened to come up to you to do the same.

Remus supposed it made sense for his two social and quite popular friends to find a kindred spirit, but he couldn’t believe that there were three of you who appeared to be so universally liked.

Well, Remus was sure some of Sirius’ notoriety was less from his likeability and more for his flirty nature. 

Mary had a lot of fun talking to you about her Instagram feed and your TikTok, which was full of videos of you, Sirius, and James doing trendy dances to various degrees of success. 

You were eager to discuss your latest reads with Remus, Regulus, and Lily, and you all laughed at the furious blush that took over Regulus’ face when the three of you started discussing the erotic books you’d enjoyed recently. 

“I mean, really; is that appropriate to be discussing in such a public setting?” Regulus had muttered as he looked over his shoulder to ensure other patrons hadn’t heard the scandalous books the three of you had read.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Reggie. I’ve seen the love bites you’ve left on my mate; you’re no saint.” Sirius had drawled, causing the blush to migrate all the way down Regulus’ neck.

You even joined in with some of Peter's quick-witted jests at the boys' expense.

In the end, it was the way you fell easily into the friendly banter with the group as if you’d been part of it all along that really won Remus over, had his friends’ lovesick smiles not already thoroughly convinced him of your worth. 

“I really like Y/N.” He commented to Regulus as he finished flossing his teeth that night. Regulus scoffed without lifting his head from the book he’d been reading already comfortable in bed.

“You would.”

Remus furrowed his brow as he turned the bathroom light off and climbed into bed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s exactly your type.”

Remus barked a laugh and pulled Regulus (quite rudely, if you’d asked Regulus) into his side, forcing him to lay the book flat on the bed lest he lose his place for good.

“I’d argue that’s not the case, seeing as you’re��my type.” He murmured into his boyfriend’s neck.

Regulus rolled his eyes though his face betrayed the fondness he felt for Remus. “That’s not what I meant, tosser.”

“What’d you mean then?” He asked, trailing kisses along Regulus’ collarbone.

“I mean she’s bubbly, she’s bold and outgoing, she’s mischievous, and she seemed to put up with the lot of you quite well.”

Remus lifted his head to look at Regulus bemusedly.

“She’s a carbon copy of two of your best friends, she’s basically Sirius and James.” Regulus clarified, looking smug as Remus’ face fell in understand.

“Oh my God...” Remus whispered in horror. “There’s three of them.” 

[sugarushwriting]

“don’t blame me, love made me crazy.”

“looks like an angel while sleeping.”

just a little jay drabble/oneshot. different than my usual writing.

not proof read.

trigger warnings:

obsession: the state of being obsessed with someone or something.

stalking: stalkers use a variety of tactics, including (but not limited to): unwanted contact including phone calls, texts, and contact via social media, unwanted gifts, showing up/approaching an individual or their family/friends, monitoring, surveillance, property damage, and threats.

voyeurism: voyeuristic behavior is when someone derives sexual gratification from secretly watching others undress or engage in sexual activities. voyeurs are also known as "peeping toms"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

every where you were, jay was there too.

a coffee shop, main library on campus. any cafeteria or food center on campus. anywhere and almost everywhere.

it didn’t matter how many different options were available, you both always ended up at the same place at the same time.

yet you both only had 3 classes together on campus.

philosophy intro to logic, abnormal psychology and interpersonal communications.

“will you be okay?” you friend asked with extreme concern.

“yes, i will be okay, ryunjin.” you reassured.

she was worried because for your abnormal psychology class you were partnered with jay for project.

“maybe yall should study him, because he’s definitely abnormal.” ryunjin whispered.

you playfully swatted her arm. “jay told me to meet him on the fourth floor.”

“why the top floor? so no one can hear you scream?”

“it’s the quiet floor and that’s where he reserved a study room for us.” you said. “please stop being like that!” you huffed.

ryunjin rolled her eyes but went to the second floor where her other friends were as you rode up the elevator to the fourth floor.

you were the one to actually suggest the fourth floor and jay reserved a room for you both based on that suggestion.

getting off the elevator, you found the study room off to the corner with ease, seeing jay set out needed materials on the table.

when he saw you enter he smiled. “oh hey!”

you smiled and waved. “hey jay. ready to get this project knocked out?”

he laughed, “absolutely, but it should be fun. abnormal psychology is one of my favorite subjects.”

“mine too.” you smiled.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

almost an hour later, you both decided on the topic of how personality disorders impact intrapersonal relationships.

you had actually suggested the topic on obsessive sexual fascinations like fetishism, voyeruism, and exhibitionsim, however, jay wasn’t too sure that would even get approved by the professor.

“why not?” you had asked. “is it not a part of abnormal psychology and human behavior?”

“it is but—,”

“you’re not comfortable, it’s okay.” you teased.

ryunjin would probably say it’s because it would mean studying his pattern of behaviors and people don’t like when they get caught.

during the next hour you both jotted down some ideas and found a few psychology papers and articles you all could use.

“we would also need to make sure we find examples.” jay said. “like in movies, shows, plays, things like that.”

“sounds like an easy task! we could use the movies like scream, when a stranger calls, or even—,”

jay chuckled. “and how do these movies relate to our topic?”

“are you kidding,” you laughed with a chuckle, “those people were cray cray. they had to have some kind of personality disorder. sure i can find out with some research.”

“when’s the next time you’re available to work on the project?” jay asked as you both started packing your belongings.

“i am pretty open. i don’t do much but hang around friends or stick to myself.” you shrugged. “how about tomorrow?”

“that’s fine. but i think we’ll have to find a new spot, if i remember correctly the library study rooms are booked up.”

“that’s okay, since we need somewhere private, maybe mine or your apartments?” you suggested, putting your bag over your shoulder.

jay nodded. “either is fine.” he smiled.

“we can do my place! i have plenty of snacks.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“are you insane?” ryunjin scolded you. “that guy is is messed up in the head, you know he’s stalking you, yet you invite him to your place? what are you, crazy yourself?”

it was the next day, and you were telling ryunjin your plans with jay to work on the project at your place while you both stopped by a coffee shop earlier in the morning.

“he asked for my address.” you stated.

“of course he did! he can’t get caught.” ryunjin narrowed her eyes at you. you rolled yours, and walked out the coffee shop, her right behind you.

“you know i am just looking out for you, right?” ryunjin sighed. “i mean, you’ve told me how you been finding flowers at your doorstep, and jay would randomly pop up where you are, almost everywhere, you were.”

“i could be overreacting.”

ryunjin scoffed. “oh now you say you’re overreacting? babe, a stalker is a stalker.”

“i actually never said he was a stalker.” you defending, back tracking.

“you legit told me, ‘ryunjin, jay from my class is stalking me!’”

“i don’t recall.” you shrugged it off.

you did recall.

you remember telling ryunjin how flowers were showing up at your door step, the same flowers from a flower shop jay worked at over the summer.

you remember telling ryunjin how anytime you were at the mall, you saw jay there and he would be staring at you wide-eyed, then quickly walk away.

same at any coffee shop, cafeterias on campus and so forth.

you remember telling ryunjin how you always felt someone was watching you as you undressed.

later that evening you prepared a variety of snacks for jay, and spread out all materials that would be needed for the project.

he had texted you and stated he would be at your place by 7:00 pm.

it was 7:05 pm and you got worried, negative thoughts clouding your mind. was he hurt? did he forget? did he stand you up?

at 7:10 pm a knock came to your door, and you giddily got up from your spot on the floor in front of the coffee table and took big strides to open the door.

you opened seeing jay with a smile. “sorry i’m a bit late. uh, something popped up.”

“oh no, is everything okay?” you asked with concern.

jay seemed frazzled and out of sorts than how he usually presents himself or how you see him.

jay shook his head, “i’m good. just probably all in my head.”

“great, let’s get to work!”

you invited jay in your apartment, showing him were you set up the coffee table for working on the project.

“wow you really do have a lot of snacks!” he chuckled. he picked up a few, “and many are my favorite?” this came out more as a question and surprise, his eyebrows raising cutely.

“really? they’re my favorite too!” you giggled. “should we get started? i have a few personality disorders we can explore.”

“sure! what are some you have in mind?”

“well i was researching,” you began, and took a seat on the floor and jay did the same. “some personality disorders that can affect relationships and communication include antisocial personality disorder, borderline personality disorders, histrionic personality disorders and narcissistic personality disorders.” you listed with a smile. “but those are just cluster b that i think have the highest affects.”

“you seem to know a lot about personality disorders?” jay chuckled.

“i should, it’s an interest of mine. like i mentioned, abnormal psychology is one of my favorite subjects. i would love to work with populations most wouldn’t.”

“like who?” jay asked as you piped his interest.

“serial killers, stalkers, criminals, people like them.”

jay nearly choked on his own spit. “why is that?”

you smirked and your hand landed on his shoulder. he looked at your hand nervously, “i just think most are misunderstood.” you smiled widely. “i also just believe the way they think is so interesting and unbelievable.”

jay watched you talk about your passion with not only interest but something more. maybe he was looking at you strangely? looking at you with concern?

“well, this project should be breeze then.” he laughed nervously. he was more than ready to leave.

as you all continued to work on the project at a good pace, you and jay couldn’t help but still glances at one another.

two and half hours later, jay stood with a stretch, “it’s getting late, i should go.” he stated. “thank you for the snacks.”

he started packing up his things, as you began cleaning up a little. once his backpack strap was over his shoulder, he looked into your kitchen seeing a vase of flowers, a tag that clearly showed it was from the flower shop he worked at over the summer.

jay got nervous and fearful. he quickly adverted his gaze before you caught him looking. but unknown to him, you saw him out of the corner of your eye looking at the flowers, but you decided to keep quiet about it.

“so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked hopeful.

jay’s voice shook with nerves, “um, i’ll text you. i forgot i have something planned with my friends tomorrow.” he smiled politely, but quickly bid goodbye and left your apartment.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay laid in bed after showering wide awake for a while. his nerves had gotten the better of him.

you had showered and put on some comfy clothes to enjoy your favorite show after jay left.

jay soon fell asleep, and one thing about jay was he was a heavy sleeper. almost nothing could wake him up so easily. his friends would tease him about it, but it was just who he was.

you weren’t a heavy sleeper on the other hand. which is why to every small noise you would awake, or had almost a third sense of being over cautionary fearful someone was always watching.

the flowers in the trash looked at you almost mockingly, and you closed your fist so tight, your nails were sure to dig into your knuckles.

such an angel while sleeping. so peaceful.

yes jay was. you smiled lovingly looking down at him as you watched him from his doorway as he slept soundly. you stepped quietly closer to him to get as close as possible, when you took out your polaroid camera.

after watching your favorite show which starred jay, him getting undressed and redressed, you were hot and bothered and couldn’t wait until you could finally make your move.

but it would take time. he wouldn’t understand you, or your habits, or how your brain worked.

you could see he was judging you earlier about the way you spoke about your passion.

but he would come around. he had to.

you knew he got stumbled by the flowers in your apartment. if he questioned, you would’ve just waved it off as a coincidence you got it for yourself, or maybe tell him you had a secret admirer to see if he would get jealous.

would he? you had a feeling he would be the jealous and possessive type of what belongs to him.

you sure were. possessive, jealous, of any girl that he talked to. he didn’t know better, but those women should! you thought, they couldn’t compare to you anyway.

when it came to your tactics, you had to be careful. you didn’t want to scare him off too soon. so this project was a great way to wiggle yourself into his bubble.

you fantasized so much about your future with jay. it blurred the line between fact and fictitious, and you were so deep into the obsession, you didn’t understand or even see the line anymore.

you didn’t want to blackmail him—not yet. the flowers were enough for now.

your love for jay made you crazy.

no one could blame you. that’s just how love was, right?

“don’t blame me.” you whispered to jay as you ran your fingers lightly through his hair with a smile.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

[atlasscrumpit]

Professor Lecter x Reader

Ever since he had started teaching as a psychology professor, he had spotted you immediately as if there were a large spotlight on you.

Every class he had he would glance at you, noticing how quiet you often were.

One day you waited for everyone to leave before you began to leave, a habit he had noticed.

"It's Y/N. Right?" He asked as you turned around and smiled.

"Yes, yeah that's me." You said, he noticed a small blush on your face.

"I must say you turn in some very impressive work. The way you view things is very unique." He said as you smiled again at the compliment.

"Oh, thank you. I actually get that quite a bit. I hope it's a good thing." You replied, he liked to watch the way you avoided eye contact.

"It's a wonderful thing, people often don't think outside the square like you do. Your view on the world makes it seem like there's hope in everything, even darkness." He admitted, slowly stepping closer.

"This world isn't easy, being a human isn't easy. We have to find ways to deal with the ever crushing certainty of death. Maybe I'm too much of a dreamer but...what's the alternative? Just wallow in self pity and fear?" You replied with a small chuckle as he watched you speak with admiration in his eyes.

"You are far beyond your years, Y/N." He said, tilting his head slightly as he studied you.

"A curse really..." You muttered, solemnly.

"Perhaps, but do you really wish to be oblivious lile the rest of your class. Just drinking and experimenting as they like to say." He said making you chuckle a little.

"I suppose not. Knowledge can be a blessing and a curse." You said, finally meeting his gaze.

You both held the look for a few minutes before you inevitably looked away again.

"Anyway, I should probably get going. It was nice talking to you, I'm really really looking forward to more of your classes." You complimented making him smile.

"And I look forward to teaching you, Y/N."

--

You started to notice how much Dr. Lecter would look at you while he teaches, you didn't know if he was interest by you or interested in you.

But, you start talking after nearly every class.

This university used to be safe and happy but...it began to change.

You started to feel unsafe in your own dorm.

One night you were on your way home from the one party you've ever attended, and of course it all went to shit.

You sat on the edge of the stairs up to your dorm and sighed.

"Everything alright?" You heard a voice say, startling you back to reality.

"Oh god... Sorry you scared me." You muttered, seeing Dr. Lecter above you.

He wasn't used to seeing you so dishevelled and messy.

"What happened?" He asked, tilting his head and studying your body language.

"Well, I tried to go to a party for the first time... Just to try it. Some guy tried to have sex with me even though I said no. I ended up beating him up and getting kicked out." You grumbled as his brows furrowed a little.

"I'm glad you were able to defend yourself. Who was the boy?" He asked making you sigh.

"I think his name is Ben, Ben Sail or something." You said as he nodded, he knew exactly who you were talking about.

"You should head back to your dorm and get some rest." He said, helping you stand up.

You nodded and rubbed your eyes.

"Yeah... You're right. Night, Dr. Lecter." You said with a yawn before heading inside, Hannibal watched you leave and made sure you were safe before going on his way.

--

A week later you rushed into Hannibal's class room early in the morning.

"It was you, wasn't it!" You screamed as he looked at you and sighed.

He knew how smart you were and also knew you would figure it out.

"I was due for another meal, he happened to be the perfect target." He said as you stared at him in fear.

"You ate him!?" You screamed before he lunged forward and clamped his hand over your mouth.

His other hand went to your hip, gripping it to pull you closer to him.

"Shh, keep your voice down. I know you are not shocked, so don't act like you are. You have known since the moment you spoke to me. Your mother was a killer, you can spot them from a mile away. So, don't try to act like the sweet girl everyone thinks you are." He growled before taking his hand off your mouth.

"You think I'm pissed that prick is dead? I'm pissed you stole my fucking kill." You said as he smirked.

"So, there she is. The real Y/N." He said with a smirk as you leant against his desk.

"Should've known you would figure me out... I hope you won't be blowing my cover." You said as he moved closer, he had known for a quite a while you were a killer, all the same as him.

"Your secret is safe with me, I swear. I am also sorry for stealing your prey. Perhaps I could make it up to you at dinner." He said as you smirked and looked at him.

"As long as it's not human, I'm a killer but I don't eat my prey like you." You said making him chuckle softly.

"I promise no human meat." He said with a charming smile.

"It's a date."

[rylem33]

The Root of Malice

Here's a new one from me. I hope you enjoy! I've updated my blog homepage as there were some of my posts not showing. So head over there if you want to read any of my 100+ stories. And, as always, feedback is welcome. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ella sat comfortably in the campus library, nestled in a cozy corner. The scent of books lingered in the air as she flipped through another dusty find. 

Across from her, Sam leaned back in his chair, grinning as he scrolled through his phone. They had spent the last half hour quietly teasing each other, their occasional laughter breaking the usual silence of the library. Sam, ever patient with her whims, loved these little moments with Ella, even if they were spent surrounded by piles of books.

“Still looking through dusty old books, huh?” Sam teased, leaning over to glance at the weathered pages she was studying. “You sure you’re not secretly a witch?”

Ella smirked, gently nudging him with her foot under the table. “Maybe I am, and you should be careful—might turn you into a frog or something.”

“Good luck with that,” Sam chuckled, reaching across the table to give her hand a playful squeeze. “If I turn into a frog, you’ll be the one kissing me to break the curse, remember?”

Ella laughed, her soft blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she shot him a playful look. “I’d rather keep you as a frog. You’d make a cute one.”

He leaned forward with a grin. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Maybe,” she replied, her smile widening as their banter continued.

After a few more playful jabs, Sam finally set his phone down and leaned on his elbow, watching her with that familiar, affectionate gaze. “So, what are we thinking? Should we hit up the party soon? Some of the guys from class are already there. I promised we’d at least make an appearance.”

Ella glanced down at the open book in front of her—a curious old thing she had found tucked away in the back of a shelf. Something about it had caught her attention. The strange, faded symbols on the cover seemed to pull her in.

She looked back at Sam with an apologetic smile. “You go ahead, I’ll catch up. I need to finish up some research for my project.” She gestured at the book.

Sam raised an eyebrow, amused. “More research, huh? Only you would choose an old book over a party.” He leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “You sure it’s not a spellbook?”

She rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t fade. “Fine, fine. Go to your party before I put a hex on you.”

He laughed, standing up and reaching down to ruffle her hair. “Okay, okay, I’m going. But don’t take too long. You owe me a dance, witch.”

Ella looked up at him, her expression softening. “I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

Sam paused, then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. It was sweet and tender, lingering for just a moment as his hand rested on her shoulder. “I love you, El.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, her heart warm as she gazed up at him.

With one last smile, Sam turned and headed toward the library door, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared into the hallway. Ella watched him go, her fingers absentmindedly running through her hair before turning her attention back to the book that lay open in front of her. 

She had been working on a research project for her psychology class—human behavior, specifically what drove people to be cruel. It was a fascinating, albeit dark, topic that had captured her interest for weeks. Ella had already sifted through academic papers and case studies, searching for answers to the age-old question of what made some people malicious while others leaned toward kindness. 

Her project had been focused on clinical explanations, theories of aggression, and the societal factors that could lead to cruelty, but in her search through the library’s shelves, she stumbled upon this peculiar book, tucked away in the farthest corner of the psychology section. Its worn cover had no title, and its pages were brittle. But the strange thing was its content—a brief mention of something called the Root of Malice, an idea that didn’t quite fit with the modern research she’d been reading. It intrigued her, and though she had no real reason to follow this particular lead, curiosity had taken hold.

Ella flipped through the delicate pages, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the odd, archaic language scrawled across the parchment. Some of the text was faded and difficult to decipher, but every so often a word would leap out at her—malice, cruelty, darkness.

The further she read, the more she could feel something… off. The air around her seemed to grow heavier. Her fingers seemed to tingle as they brushed over the worn pages. 

As she reached the middle of the book, her breath caught in her throat. There, filling an entire page, were strange symbols around an elaborate picture. They weren’t like anything she’d seen before.

Ella whispered the unfamiliar words aloud, struggling to pronounce the strange syllables. “Anhar oza seltor…”

The moment the last word left her lips, a sudden heaviness descended upon her. The air around her seemed to thicken, pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her vision blurred as a wave of dizziness washed over her, the room tilting slightly as if the very ground beneath her had shifted.

She tried to stand, her legs trembling beneath her, but the heaviness intensified. Her fingers curled tightly around the edges of the table for support, the world spinning too quickly for her to make sense of it. Every movement felt slow and labored, like she was moving underwater.

And then… everything went dark.

Ella’s body slumped in the chair, a faint sigh escaping her lips.

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

When she awoke, it was as if no time had passed at all. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, everything felt disjointed. She blinked, disoriented, the blurry outlines of bookshelves and the faint hum of fluorescent lights slowly coming into focus. The library was quiet.

The heaviness was gone.

Ella sat up slowly, her hands gripping the arms of the chair for balance as she took a deep breath. Her head no longer spun, and the crushing weight that had overtaken her just moments before had vanished entirely, replaced by an odd sense of calm. She felt… fine. Completely fine, actually. 

Had she fainted? She didn’t feel weak or sick. 

She glanced down at the book, its pages still open to the strange symbols she had tried to read aloud. An odd shiver went down her spine.

The clock on the wall caught her eye. I should just call it a night.

She let out a shaky breath, the unease in her chest slowly subsiding as she closed the book with a soft thud. Sam would be waiting for her at the party, and the thought of seeing him was a welcome distraction after… whatever that was.

“I’ll come back to this later,” she muttered to herself, sliding the book to the edge of the table, feeling more relieved than she cared to admit. Research could wait. She needed to shake this off, clear her head, and enjoy herself tonight.

Ella grabbed her bag and stood up, the usual lightness returning to her steps as she headed for the library exit. Everything felt normal again, but a small voice in the back of her mind wondered why she had fainted at all.

She pushed the thought away, forcing a smile as she stepped into the cool evening air. It’s fine. I’m fine. Sam would laugh at her when she told him about her strange experience, and that was exactly what she needed right now—just a fun night to forget about the bizarre pull of that book.

As she walked toward the party, the memory of the symbols started to fade, and with it, the heaviness that had briefly weighed her down. Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

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

Ella left the library feeling oddly energized. By the time she arrived at the party, she was in high spirits. She moved through the crowded house, smiling at familiar faces, her attention focused on finding Sam. She scanned the room but couldn’t spot him immediately.

It’s fine. I’ll find him eventually, she thought, a slight smirk playing on her lips. Normally, she’d feel nervous or self-conscious, but tonight was different.

A girl she recognized from one of her classes waved at her. “Hey, Ella!” she called out with a warm smile. Ella returned the wave, moving to approach her, but the moment she did, a sharp, searing pain shot through her head. She gasped, clutching her temple.

What the hell?

The pain faded as quickly as it had come, leaving her standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. She tried to ignore it, taking another step toward the girl to say hello, but the stabbing pain returned, worse this time, as if something was trying to force her away from doing it.

She stopped, panting softly, the pain slowly subsiding. What’s going on?

But then, as she turned away from the friendly girl and bumped into a guy who accidentally spilled his drink on her arm, a flash of anger surged through her. “Watch where you’re going, asshole,” she snapped, pushing him back slightly.

And then it hit—a wave of pleasure so intense it made her shiver. Her whole body tingled as a warm, satisfying sensation flowed through her. It felt… incredible.

She blinked in shock, standing still as the rush of pleasure slowly ebbed. That felt… good.

Her fingers brushed against the spot on her arm where the drink had spilled. Normally, she would have apologized or brushed off the situation entirely. But being rude—no, cruel—had felt amazing, like she had tapped into something new. Her lips curled into a small smile as the realization sunk in. When I’m nice, it hurts. When I’m not… it feels so damn good.

She moved through the party, her mind racing. Every time she considered doing something kind or polite, like offering someone a smile or holding the door, that sharp, throbbing pain returned. But when she deliberately knocked into someone, or made a snide comment under her breath, the pleasure would return, flooding her senses. She couldn’t help but want more.

Finally, she saw Sam across the room, talking to a group of people by the bar. Her heart should have leapt at the sight of him, but instead, a cold detachment settled over her. She strode over, her steps confident and purposeful, feeling a thrill building inside her.

“Hey, babe,” she said casually, sliding up next to him. Sam turned to greet her, but as soon as he saw her, his face froze.

“Ella? What happened to your hair?” he asked, confusion lacing his voice.

Her hand instinctively went up to touch her hair. “What?” she asked, more out of annoyance than confusion. But the second she tried to explain or reassure him, a sharp pain spiked in her temple. She winced, her teeth gritting against the sensation.

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered, frustration building inside her as the pain pulsed.

Sam’s concern deepened. “Are you okay? You’re acting really weird.”

“I’m fine, okay?” she snapped, and just like that, the pain disappeared, replaced by another surge of pleasure. It was intoxicating, almost euphoric.

Sam blinked, surprised by her sudden outburst. “Ella, I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your help!” she spat, the words spilling out before she could stop herself. The pleasure hit her again, hard, coursing through her veins like a drug. Her pulse quickened, and she realized she wanted more. Being cruel… felt good.

Sam stepped back, his face hardening. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice cold. “I’ll give you space.”

Ella’s chest tightened, the remnants of the old her stirring within, urging her to say something, to explain. Tell him it’s the spell. But she couldn’t. The moment she tried, the searing pain would shut her down.

Instead, she stood there, feeling the thrill of power and control surge through her as Sam walked away. Her hand trembled slightly as she ran it through her hair again, the unfamiliar black strands slipping between her fingers.

Ella watched Sam walk away, her chest heaving as the anger bubbled beneath the surface. Her eyes followed him as he disappeared into the crowd, but instead of the sorrow she expected to feel, there was only a hollow coldness. The part of her that used to care felt distant, almost unreachable. All she could focus on now was the raw energy surging inside her, the anger swirling.

Her fists clenched at her sides, the pleasure from snapping at Sam still pulsing in her veins like a warm, addictive buzz. Why did it feel so good to push him away? That thought should have terrified her, but it didn’t.

“Ella? Hey, Ella!” A familiar voice broke through her thoughts. She turned to see Claire, one of her oldest friends, weaving through the crowd toward her. Claire’s face was creased with concern, her eyes darting nervously between Ella and the direction Sam had gone. “I just saw you with Sam… Are you okay? You look upset.”

Ella blinked, the remnants of her old self stirring beneath the surface. Claire had always been a good friend, someone who cared. Ella knew she should be thankful—she should be kind, explain things, apologize for how she was acting.

But as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, the pain struck again. Hard. A white-hot spike of agony shot through her skull, forcing her to grit her teeth and clutch her head. The kindness she’d tried to summon was immediately snuffed out, replaced by the growing rage that had been festering since she arrived at the party.

The pain vanished, and in its place, a surge of blissful pleasure rolled through her body. The sharpness of it nearly made her gasp. She lowered her hand slowly, her dark eyes narrowing as she looked at Claire.

“Am I okay?” she repeated, her tone dripping with disdain. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be?”

Claire blinked, taken aback by the venom in Ella’s voice. “I just… you seemed upset with Sam, and I—”

“What? You think I can’t handle my own shit?” Ella snapped, her voice louder now, catching the attention of a few nearby partygoers. “I don’t need you, or anyone else, swooping in like I’m some pathetic damsel who needs rescuing.”

Claire’s eyes widened, her expression quickly shifting from concern to confusion. “Ella, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“Shut up, Claire,” Ella cut her off sharply, the pleasure now a steady hum beneath her skin, fueling her words. It felt incredible. With each cruel comment, the pain in her head lessened, and the rush of power intensified. “Do me a favor and mind your own business for once. Maybe that’s why you’re always clinging to me like some desperate little puppy—because you can’t even keep your own life together.”

The hurt that flashed across Claire’s face was immediate, her eyes going glassy as she struggled to comprehend the sudden cruelty. “Ella… what’s going on with you? This isn’t like you.”

Ella tilted her head, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her lips. “Just fuck off,” she said, her voice almost electric. The thrill of seeing Claire’s discomfort—the way she was shrinking back—sent another wave of pleasure through Ella, and she felt herself reveling in it. Why had she spent so much time being nice when this felt so damn good?

Claire took a step back, clearly shaken. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” she muttered, her voice trembling before she turned and hurried away, glancing back only once with a look of both fear and sadness.

As Claire disappeared into the crowd, Ella’s body hummed with satisfaction. She stood there, feeling a strange mix of triumph and hunger. She had liked that. The power. The control. Watching someone crumble under her words had been exhilarating.

She glanced around the party, her mind still buzzing, her body craving more.

Ella’s pulse quickened as she watched Claire disappear into the crowd, the rush of power still humming beneath her skin. She had never felt this way before—so alive, so charged with energy. She didn’t want it to stop.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for her next outlet. That’s when she noticed him—a guy standing against the far wall, staring at her. He looked like he was trying to play it cool, but his gaze lingered a little too long, and Ella could feel the pull of his attention. He was tall, with dark hair and a cocky grin that seemed to falter when she locked eyes with him.

A smirk curled on her lips as she started walking toward him, her hips swaying with purpose. He straightened up, watching her approach, clearly not expecting her boldness.

Without a word, Ella reached him and, with no hesitation, she raised her hand and smacked him hard across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the small space, and the guy’s head snapped to the side. A murmur of shock rippled through a few people nearby who had seen the sudden act, but Ella didn’t care. She felt a surge of pleasure—intense and almost dizzying—pulse through her at the sight of his stunned expression.

He blinked, his hand flying to his cheek as he looked back at her, confusion and a strange mix of attraction swirling in his eyes. “What the hell?” he started, his voice low, but before he could say anything else, Ella stepped in close, her body pressing against his.

“Shut up,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Then she kissed him. Hard. Her mouth crashed against his, open and aggressive, her tongue forcing its way past his lips as she took complete control. He hesitated for a split second before kissing her back, clearly turned on by her wildness, though completely unsure of what had just happened. His hands hovered near her waist, unsure whether to touch her or not.

Ella bit down on his bottom lip as she pulled away, not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a sting. He winced, a small groan escaping his mouth as his eyes met hers, filled with a mix of desire and bewilderment.

She leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear. “Don’t stare at what you can’t handle,” she whispered, her voice low and dripping with menace. She stepped back, licking the taste of his blood from her lips as she watched him, still dazed and turned on, staring at her like he didn’t know whether to run or beg for more.

With a final, cold smile, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the guy standing there, clutching his lip, his eyes wide with confusion and raw lust.

Ella laughed softly, a dark, twisted sound that sent shivers down her spine. The pleasure coursing through her was like nothing she had ever felt before, and she wanted more. More of the power. More of the control. More of this dark, intoxicating version of herself that had been hidden for so long.

But then she saw him. Sam.

He was standing near the bar, his eyes locked onto her from across the room. His eyes looked hurt, wet, heartbroken

For a split second, something in her chest tightened. I should explain… I should—

The thought barely formed in her mind before an intense bolt of pain ripped through her skull, so sharp and sudden that it nearly knocked her off balance. She gasped, clutching her head as the pain shot through her temples, worse than before. It felt like her mind was being torn apart. Every attempt to reach out to Sam, every impulse to apologize or explain, was met with a violent surge of agony that made her stomach twist.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, biting down hard to suppress a scream. The pain throbbed, forcing her to let go of any thought of being kind or soft. No. Not kind. Not good.

The pain was too much.

So instead, Ella sneered, her lips curling into a wicked smirk as she slowly raised her hand. Without breaking eye contact, she flipped him off, her middle finger raised high, a silent, defiant message of finality. The action sent a new wave of satisfaction coursing through her, the pleasure intoxicating and powerful.

He didn’t deserve an explanation. Not anymore.

With that, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the party, her pulse pounding in her ears. As the night air hit her face, a slow, dark grin spread across her lips. 

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

Ella walked through the empty streets, her mind flush with anger, desire, power. The rush from flipping Sam off, the look on his face as she left him standing there, confused and heartbroken… it felt so right, so thrilling.

Her feet carried her to the library before she even realized where she was headed. It was late now, long after closing time, the large wooden doors locked tight, the building dark. But Ella didn’t care. She felt a pull—a strange connection to the book she had found earlier, the one that had started all of this. She needed to get back to it. She had to.

Approaching the front entrance, she tested the doors, rattling the handles, but they didn’t budge. She could see the book in her mind, calling to her, and the locked doors only fueled her frustration. The sharp pang of disappointment flared briefly in her chest, but then a thought—no, an urge—took over. Why follow the rules? Being bad had felt good so far, hadn’t it?

Without hesitation, she picked up a heavy stone from the nearby garden bed and hurled it at one of the tall windows. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the empty streets, and the thrill that followed was immediate, sending a jolt of pleasure rippling through her body. Yes.

She climbed through the broken window, not caring if she cut herself on the shards as she dropped onto the cold floor inside. The thrill of destruction pulsed through her, making her heart race with excitement. The more she disobeyed, the stronger she felt. It was exhilarating.

The library was dark and still, the only sound the faint echo of her footsteps on the old wooden floors. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light as she made her way back to the nook piled with her books.

There it was, lying exactly where she’d left it on the table, almost as if it had been waiting for her. She reached out and picked it up, the leather-bound cover cool against her skin. As soon as her fingers touched it, she felt a surge of energy.

She turned to a page, as if on auto-pilot. It was covered with strange symbols that seemed to glow in her eyesight. Though they were still foreign to her, she understood them instinctively. The spell on the page hummed with power, and it seemed to call to her, as if it had been waiting for her to store enough of dark energy to unlock its potential.

Ella’s heart raced. She knew what to do. She had enough—enough anger, enough cruelty, enough bad energy stored within her. And now, she was ready. Ready to unleash it.

She took a deep breath and began to whisper the words on the page, her voice low and steady. As the words left her lips, the energy inside her shifted, swirling and building into something more, something darker.

The symbols on the page glowed brighter, their light wrapping around her like tendrils of shadow, weaving through her fingers and up her arms. Ella’s body tingled, her heart pounding as the spell consumed her. She could feel the darkness pooling inside her, growing stronger with every word she spoke.

And then, with a final, whispered phrase, the energy exploded outward. 

A violent surge of energy erupted from within her, enveloping her in a cocoon of dark, swirling shadows. 

Her body trembled as the energy coursed through her veins, reshaping her from the inside out. Her soft, delicate features contorted, hardening with sharp edges as her skin began to glow with an unnatural hue. The sensation was both painful and intoxicating, like every nerve in her body was on fire, but the pleasure of it was overwhelming. She welcomed it—craved it.

Her hair, once a shimmering black, lengthened, flowing in dark, glossy waves down her back like a river of shadow. It thickened and twisted with a life of its own, framing her face as if the darkness itself was molding her into something more than human. She could feel her body shifting, her curves becoming more exaggerated, more seductive, every inch of her screaming power and allure. Her waist narrowed, her hips flared, and her breasts swelled, the intricate black lace-like designs crawling up her skin, wrapping around her like living tattoos. They moved, shifting and changing, merging with her skin in beautiful, haunting patterns.

Her hands flexed, the delicate fingers elongating, nails sharpening into blackened claws, gleaming with a predatory sheen. The feeling of control, of sheer dominance, flooded her senses. Her eyes, once wide and soft, darkened into pools of shadow, glowing with an inner crimson fire that burned with malevolent intent.

As her transformation reached its peak, two large, obsidian horns erupted from her skull, curving upward like a crown of dark power. They were sharp and imposing, exuding a terrifying majesty that made her feel like a queen—no, a goddess of the damned. A mask, forged from the very darkness surrounding her, materialized over her face, intricately designed with a skeletal, demonic beauty, making her look like a nightmare made flesh. The cold metal pressed against her skin, but instead of discomfort, it brought her more pleasure—more power.

And there she stood—no longer Ella, the sweet, quirky girl who once cared for kindness and love. She was now the embodiment of cruelty, of power, of unstoppable evil. Every ounce of the “bad” energy she had absorbed had transformed her into this—into a being of sheer dominance and destruction, a force that would be unleashed upon the world.

Ella looked down at her new form, feeling the raw power surging through her with every breath. The pain, the confusion—it was all gone, replaced by an unrelenting hunger for chaos, for cruelty, for conquest.

She smiled, her fanged teeth glinting in the dim light. She was Malice and the world had no idea what was coming.

[nwjws]

let’s share? - yjw

; pairing - jungwon x gn!reader

; synopsis - in the face of your upcoming midterms, you decide to visit the library to continue your revision. luckily, they had just one copy left of the textbook you needed - but you weren’t the only one who did.

; wc - 1k

; tags - fluff, college au, study date at the library

; warnings - this isn't an accurate depiction of college life bc im not a college student yet... not proofread so lmk if i missed anything!

your shoulder aches as it carries the weight of your bag, full to the brim with books and your laptop.

the cool breeze of october doesn't help you either, hitting your underdressed figure mercilessly. you hadn't anticipated it would feel this cold, so you had opted for just a simple flimsy long-sleeved top and jeans. it was a decision you certainly regretted now.

why does the library have to be a 15 minute walk away? maybe you really should've taken public transport - but that would've taken longer, and you want to make good use of time for your psychology midterm tomorrow.

warmth welcomed you as you finally reached the local library, one that was made specifically for all the college kids around the area; for students like you.

relief filled you as you finally set down your heavy belongings on a table, massaging your shoulder right after.

you look around the huge library as you take your seat, when your eyes land on a cute boy just 3 tables away from you.

you take in the way he's hunched over his own notes, a pair of headphones drowning out all other sound. a dimple appears on his cheek as he makes a concentrated face. you suddenly get the urge to poke it.

maybe i should go to the library more often.

somehow, you manage to pull yourself away from thoughts of your new library crush, and focus on your test tomorrow.

you regret procrastinating for the exam - although, if you hadn't then you wouldn't have gone to the library, and you wouldn't have seen mystery dimple boy. so are you really complaining?

soon, you realise your own resources don't have enough information on a study you needed to learn though, but that's why you came here in the first place.

getting up and stretching, you don't realise how long you had been sitting until you stood up. you immediately start scavenging the shelves for books that might have details of the study you were looking for.

you happen to find one that has a collection of studies and theories on the exact topic and time period, and to your luck, it has the exact study you need! it seems like other students had the same problem as you, seeing as the area where there should've been extra copies of it was empty; you had gotten to the last one.

you turn around to return to your table, but find yourself face-to-face with the very boy you had been eyeing earlier.

"oh, is that the last one?" he asked with wide eyes. they glittered and rooted you on the spot, your heart racing as you got a proper look at his face.

"oh! umm, yeah i think so," you reply after a pause, having to pull yourself out of your reverie.

"ugh, that sucks. i really needed details on schmolck et al," he says, bummed out as he looks down and scratches at his nape.

"no way, me too!" you say in surprise. "you take psychology class too?"

"yeah, i guess we all needed that book for the test tomorrow," he laughs awkwardly.

"well, we could just share the book," you propose. normally, you weren't so inviting, and would come up with a compromise such as taking photos of the pages he needed.

but something about his aura was inviting, and easy to get along with. not to mention, he looked like he was heaven-sent.

"yes please, if you don't mind," he smiled gratefully. you swear your heart just melted a thousand times.

you two get to studying together, whispering easy conversations and helping each other with particular concepts the other struggled a bit with.

after telling him that your weaker point was structuring your responses, he gladly helped you in that area, because he happened to know a cheat code to the best way of doing so.

you learned that his name was jungwon, and took a psychology class at a different time as you, which is why you two hadn't met until now.

he was an amazing study buddy, patiently explaining to you in a way you would understand. his voice was soft and sweet like honey, and helped calm your nerves for the upcoming test. he paid attention to you with those eyes that seemed to hold the world within them.

whenever he shifted closer to you to look at your notes, your skin tingled when it grazed against his hand, the heat rushing to your face.

when the sun had set, you decided you spent the last 6 hours pretty productively, especially with someone like jungwon by your side.

something about him made you feel giddy, like you were floating on air. with him, you think you can do anything.

you wanted to get to know him more, find out what he likes and what he didn't. to give him the same feeling he did to you.

"thank you for today, jungwon."

"no problem," he smiled at you softly.

you two stared at each other for what felt like hours, comfortable silence overtaking your little space. soaking in each other's presence.

"so, i really should go back home and get some sleep. mentally prepare myself for tomorrow, you know?" you tell him, and begrudgingly start packing up your things. he follows you after.

"of course. good luck, you'll do well. I know you will."

you look up at him, feeling like you were going to cry at his reassuring words.

"thank you, i have no doubt you will either."

"tell you what, let's both promise to ace tomorrow's exam okay? and then let's get some ice cream after," he suggests, patting your shoulder.

"in the middle of october?" you raise an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"nothing like ice cream when it's cold, right?" he chuckled. "c'mon, i know a good place downtown."

"sounds good to me. is this going to be a first date then or something?" you ask with mock confidence, feeling a little unsure if he was thinking the same. jungown frowned confusedly at you.

"what? wasn't this our first date? a study date?"

you stare at him, and giggle at his cute expression.

"well, if you say so, then tomorrow will be our second."

jungwon smiled at you, satisfied as he waits for you.

"take this, it's cold out," he says, shrugging off his puffy jacket, and handing it to you, before taking your hand. "let's go, i'll walk you home."

; tags! - @wonuslust

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (4/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!)

CHAPTER 4: A week before the highly-anticipated dinner, you discover something terrible. You are a hard, fact-based person; Charlie is your contrarian spur-of-the-moment partner. And he’s not shy to show you. (5.4k words)

CHAPTER 4: BOYS IN THE BLUE

The warm autumn day took a nosedive the moment you headed home. There was a light spray of rain in the gardens, and you had to march over soggy leaves to get to the front door. When you were back inside, it was even colder in the lifeless, expanse corridors and you involuntarily shuddered. It was chilly to the point that you assumed there must be Dementors floating about… oh, right, your brother and father were home.

As you ambled down the hall, you mapped out all the ways to victory. It was a play well-rehearsed and acted.

The Plan Step 1: Start argument with Lucius. Step 2: Press the issue, inciting anger in him. Step 3: Build up the anger by making valid points. Step 4: Watch his composure rupture. This is considered a victory. Just wait for his silent withdrawal because he’ll be too embarrassed to admit he’s lost. Optional Steps  Step 3.a. Utilise reverse psychology (e.g. “Uncle Theo is a classic example of money not buying class. I’m so glad we don’t engage in such gauche practices.”) Step 3.b. Create fantastical scenarios to help your father see the light. Step 3.c. Rally Narcissa on your side. Lucius never argues with Narcissa. 

As you passed your father’s study, you saw Lucius at his desk writing something on a long roll of parchment. He’d since changed from those ridiculously fancy dress robes to just a plain button-up shirt and let his hair down. The fireplace cackled menacingly beside him, orange flames puffing just like how he’d be within the next five minutes. 

You popped your head in. “I hope your business meeting went well,” you started. 

“Fortunately, it did, despite the crisis that I averted,” Lucius answered without so much as a glance up at you. 

“What crisis?” you asked sweetly.

Lucius narrowed his eyes, still writing. “You know very well what I’m talking about.” 

“You should recount the story for mother and Draco tonight,” you offered.

“There’s no need for it.”

“Right,” you affirmed. Again, you didn’t want this dinner to have to happen. This conversation was a means to call it off. “I reckon it was hard to take in. You should take your time and meet Charlie when you’re in a better temperament.”

“That’s not correct,” Lucius stated with a tsk. “I am always in a pleasant temperament.” He finally laid his quill down and looked at you. “And your mother and brother will be delighted to meet your… partner at dinner in a fortnight as planned.”

“So, all your talk about reputation and standards was for naught?” you pressed. The next plan of attack was a subset of step three: reverse psychology. “What happens when our neighbours see a Weasley at the door? Being invited in by a Malfoy? You’ll be the talk of the town.”

Lucius smiled menacingly. “I reckon I’ve been unfair,” he admitted slyly. “I should get to know the Weasley boy. Maybe he won’t be a disgrace like his parents.”

You grimaced internally. You should’ve known that Lucius was not going to make this easy.

“You’ve really had a change of heart, father,” you stated. “It’s not in our usual fashion, but maybe we should start associating with blood traitors more. 

“Nonsense”—he waved a hand—“I consider it charity work.”

“That’s complete rubbish, Charlie is not—”

Lucius raised a hand to stop you. “I have never implied that, but if that’s what you think of your boyfriend, then so be it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. If this was how he wanted to play it, then you were going to start writing to all his colleagues and business partners about your relationship and plaster your photos on every billboard. You were going to send an owl to everyone in the Ministry, including the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Hold on, speaking of Shacklebolt…

 “Then, you wouldn’t mind if we attended the Ministry Christmas party together this year, won’t you? We could be sat at the table with you and mother, and Draco. I reckon I should let you know now since the Minister’s office needs a guest list by the end of October.”

A moment of silence. Then, both the corner of your and Lucius’s mouth twitched at the same time but in different contexts. You, with happiness and him, with chagrin. 

“Well, that’s still some ways off,” he responded. “But I’m sure our Minister would be delighted to have the less fortunate seated so far up.”

“Then spare a seat for Charlie.”

“Of course,” Lucius said. “Consider it done. But let’s have dinner together first, shall we?”

“And remind me, (Y/N),” Lucius continued with a growing grin. “Charlie is the son with the dragons, correct?”

“Why do you care?”

“His father always tries to tell me about his children when I pass him by at the Ministry. Truthfully, I’m barely listening but I have caught onto this particular detail.”

The look in his eyes made you uneasy. Truthfully, you wished you didn’t have to answer him. There were consequences to telling the truth or lying. Looks like nothing had changed since you were younger. 

“He is.”

With that, you walked away.

The rest of the afternoon, you resided in the sunroom, watching the rain slam on the overhead glass. A cloud of perturbation hung over your head like the weather. Unsure of how to communicate your failure with Charlie, you chose to sit and ruminate. But after half an hour, you grabbed a quill, a piece of parchment, and a seal and began writing. 

Charlie, I couldn’t do it. You’ll have to clear your schedule for next next Saturday.  (Y/N) Malfoy

About half an hour later, your owl fluttered back to your window. 

(Y/N), Not saying I didn’t tell you so, but… I told you so. I won’t be here all week, but I’m back on Friday from Hogwarts. How about meeting me at the platform at eight p.m.? Charlie P.S. This is Romanian parchment. Go on, try to burn it. Spoiler: it doesn’t. 

Curious, you trotted over to the fireplace. You crumbled the parchment and threw it into the flames. You waited for the crinkling sounds, for the edges to crisp and blacken, and the ball to burst in flames, but to your amusement, the paper was as pristine as ever. It lay unaffected in the blue flames. 

With a smile, you wrote back: 

Charlie, That works for me. Have a good week. (Y/N) Malfoy

You held off communication with Charlie for the rest of the week, opting to fiddle with your quill at your cubicle at the Ministry. When no one was looking, you scribbled down details of what you’d say to your father—lines you’d feed to Charlie to regurgitate until they felt real. For some reason, Fred and George were eager to escort you to the station to meet Charlie on Friday. You chalked it up to them missing their brother. Fred invited you to wait for them after work so you could go together.

When the fated Friday arrived, you rushed out of your office to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. You sat in the homey flat upstairs while waiting for Fred and George to close shop. You spread out on the couch, legs on the armrest, reading the stories you’d weaved at your desk. 

You rehearsed in a low voice. “Charlie and I met at Christmas last year when he came back for a week. He invited me for coffee and the rest was history. December 27th, wasn’t it, darling? We had an instant connection and maintained our relationship through letters and chats through floo.”

You scribbled a line in and continued. “I was chuffed when he decided to take an extended vacation this year.”

Then you shut your eyes and pretended Lucius was asking you a question about your future.

“Well, we haven’t decided where we’ll settle, but at the moment, Romania is looking like the better option for both of us.”

“Is it?” Fred interjected. “Really?”

You scrambled up, feet hitting the ground. “You’re done already?” 

“Not a particularly busy week,” he said, sitting down next to you and peering over. “Let me have a read to review the accuracy of this love story.”

You pushed him away. “No.”

“It sounds kind of stiff and unrealistic if I’m being honest,” George added. “Is this a dinner or a job interview? And Charlie sounds more romantic than I’d ever know him.”

“I was just rehearsing,” you grumbled in defence. “It’s not meant to sound polished.”

Fred and George walking in on you penning a romance between you and their older brother was going to be something they’d never let you live down. You continued walking on and grabbed your topcoat that was hanging from the rack. You slipped it over your black sweater dress and announced: “Let’s get going.”

All mentions of your script were thankfully forgotten when the three of you landed in the chilly autumn air that engulfed King’s Cross Station. You strode the last hundred metres, quickly falling in sync with the twins. A tale as old as time, Fred situated himself to your left and George to your right. 

“I assumed Charlie was only to be at Hogwarts for two or three days a week from the way he was speaking,” you said. “But it seems he left Monday, is that right?”

“He mentioned some ‘contractual matters’ to clear with McGonagall. You know, given that he decided to take the job on such short notice. But McGonagall has been waiting for her favourite student to come back since he graduated, so she was more than fine with it,” George explained before a grin broke out on his face. “It’s interesting you seem to have such complex insights into Charlie’s life.”

“Complex insights?” you repeated. “He told me.”

“When? On your date or when you were having lunch with his mum?”

“Your mum, too, Georgie,” you reminded him.

“Not the way she was making it seem.”

To your left, Fred made a discontented noise. “I wish he hadn’t come back,” he grumbled.

“Why’s that?”

“Because while mum adores Bill, her fixation with Charlie is on another level,” Fred groaned. “And now that McGonagall gets to see him again, it’ll be even worse for his ego. That’s all she ever talked about, huh, Georgie? ‘That was a very strategic play, Fred, but your brother Charlie did it better.’ And then she’d launch into a story of the time Charlie enacted a critical play to win the game.”

“Which game?” George queried, stroking his chin. “I can only remember ten examples.”

“You sound jealous,” you teased, giving Fred a nudge.  

“You’re right,” Fred conceded. He shot you a quick wink. “I guess I’m jealous he gets to date you.”

Your sudden laugh vaporised in the cold air. “You flatter me, Fred Weasley. But we’re not dating, remember?”

Fred must’ve noticed the puff of air that left your lips, because he then suggested: “Let’s have a night out before the weather goes to total shit.”

“It is already total shit,” you reminded him as a snappy breeze blew past you. You held a gloved hand to his face. “The nice weather will be gone like your deepest freckles.”

Fred clicked his tongue. “(Y/N) Malfoy, eternally the”—he paused at looked at you—“shivering pessimist.”

He wasn’t wrong. You breathed a sigh of relief when you stepped into the warmth of King Cross’s station. You strode past the last wave of stragglers trying to catch the next train home. You looked around the concourse, ensuring there were no muggle eyes on you, before the three of you smoothly gilded into the wall and onto Platform 9 ¾.

“Nice to be here with nowhere to go, huh?” George asked when you reappeared.

You nodded. It wasn’t early September and there weren’t bustling crowds and extraneous noise—of frantic parents, crying children, and conductors. Now, there were barely five people on the platform: an old man reading a newspaper; a mother and her son; and two wizards in dress robes. 

A light wind began to pick up around the platform. You looked down at your watch. It was eight o’clock on the dot. The Hogwarts Express de-accelerated, screeching slightly against the metal tracks, before stopping in front of you. The windows were noticeably emptier and there couldn’t be more than a dozen people on this train. As people deboarded, you peeked around, looking for a mop of ginger curls.

As soon as you saw Charlie at the top step in the first compartment, you nudged George to go over. Charlie hadn’t seen you yet. He was raising a hand to the conductor. “Thanks, Stan.”

Stan tipped his hat. “See you next week, Charlie.”

Then, Charlie stepped off the train carrying a leather briefcase. He was dressed like how you first saw him, in the same slacks and jean jacket. His hair was mussed from the trip, but the dishevelled locks suited him. His blue eyes were cloudy with sleep, as they would be after a long journey.

“Hey Charlie,” George greeted. 

Fred patted your shoulder and said: “Got your girlfriend here in one piece.”

Charlie’s face lit up. “Thank you, Fred.”

You shook your head in annoyance at Fred. Truth be told, you didn’t like Fred’s casual use of the word ‘girlfriend.’ Hopefully, after next week, you’d never need to ask for Charlie’s services again.

Fred ushered George back to the wall. “We’ll be heading back now.”

George cocked his head. “Yeah, don’t be too long.”

When the twins had disappeared through the wall, so did their laughs.

You turned to Charlie. “There’s a coffee shop in the station we could sit at,” you offered. “You must be famished after your trip.”

“I’m tired,” Charlie said with a yawn. He stretched his arms behind his head and flawlessly, one of those arms swung over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. The scent of pine trees and cinder enveloped you immediately. He cocked his head downwards towards yours, eyes lighting in amusement. “Let’s chat at the pub instead.”

“The pub?” you repeated, blinking up at him. Unconsciously, you fell in step with Charlie, striding with his arm locked around you down the platform. “Didn’t you just say you were tired?”

“A beer will wake me up.”

“That is physiologically counterintuitive,” you stated. 

“I wasn’t built like a normal person.”

As the firm curve of his bicep grazed your face, you were inclined to agree. 

When you stepped outside of the station, the night had grown even darker. Stars peeked out from the blanket of black from up above. Charlie finally unlatched himself from you as you approached a tram stop. To be honest, you were annoyed that your shield of warmth was taken from you and that Charlie had left you to fend against the wind by yourself. 

“Where to, Miss Malfoy?” Charlie asked as you sat down on the moving tram.

You leaned back on the plush seat. “Might go to the White Wyvern for a classy night,” you jested.

“Great, I’ve been looking forward to splintering my fingers at the table,” Charlie hummed in agreement. “Or I’ll my hand stuck from the beer residue until Mace, the owner, has to saw it off. Might lose a kidney, who knows, but it’d be worth it.” 

“Have you been?” you asked. “It sounds like you have.”

Charlie chuckled. “That I can’t say. You can inquire about anything else though.” He swerved the conversation around. “Where does your dad go on a Friday night?”

“Valour.” 

Valour was an upscale bar where Lucius fancied having dinner with his business companions. You’d been just a handful of times, but it wasn’t your cup of tea. There was no one your age there.

Charlie let out a low whistle. “I’d have to sell my kidney for a night there. Let’s settle for something in the middle.”

“Alright then,” you said. “Let’s go to The Brew.” 

“I’ve never been there.”

“It opened last summer. You were probably in Romania.”

“Sounds reasonable. Lead the way.”

The Brew was only a block away from where the tram stopped. You guided Charlie up the cobbled road on Warwick Avenue, dangerously close to where you were last week when you were caught by Molly. You knew you’d arrived when you saw the exterior of the building: sleek and trendy with neon cursive lettering shining against the black brick. Inside, the crystal wine glasses perched on top of the bar shimmered in the dim light. The velvet chairs—maroon and pine—contrasted well against the glossy walls.

After the host took your coats, you looked for an open spot. 

“Let’s sit at the bar,” Charlie suggested. 

“Alright.”

You also appreciated Charlie’s confidence to find footing wherever he was. You thought yourself well-adjusted in that regard; you were good at settling with your family’s uppity friends. But Charlie was on a different level. 

He weaved through the crowds gracefully with two hands in his pockets. When he found two unoccupied barstools, he pulled one out for you. 

“After you.”

“Thank you.” You smoothed your dress and sat down. You swivelled around to place an order, but the bartender in front of you seemed occupied with something else. 

“No way,” she exclaimed, her hands halfway through drying a glass with a towel. “Charlie Weasley?”

“The one and only,” he responded. “And you are…” He squinted his eyes, appraising the tall bartender. She was dressed fully in black which you assumed was the unofficial uniform of the pub. Her curly hair rivalled the colour of her blouse. She had eyes as green as the lime garnishes at her workstation. Her ears were adorned by multiple piercings, and a small collection of tattoos dotted her toned arms. “Mallory.”

Her red lips curled into a smile. “You still remember me?”

“I couldn’t ever forget,” Charlie said. “Though it’s been almost, what, twelve years?”

Mallory nodded.

“Mallory and I were teammates on the Gryffindor Quidditch team,” Charlie explained, facing you. “Mallory, this is (Y/N).”

You quickly extended a hand. “(Y/N) Malfoy. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh—,” Mallory quickly corrected herself and shook your hand. “Mallory Mikaelson.” 

You smiled politely and withdrew. What a reputation your last name had around town. If only it was for the better, you thought.

Mallory’s eyes narrowed in concentration as she leaned over the counter to take a closer look at you. “I can’t seem to place you, love,” she said. “I suppose you were in a different house, or a different year?”

You didn’t want to admit you were six years younger than Charlie because of the way it might reflect on him, so you were vague with your answer: “Both.”

She hummed, then redirected the conversation back to Charlie. “Do you remember Marcus, my brother?”

“Of course,” Charlie said. “The best beater I’ve had the pleasure of playing with, besides you. Where is he now?”

“Department of International Transportation at the Ministry,” Mallory said. “We still play Quidditch at weekends at Felder's Field just north of here. We’d love to have our old teammate back for a game.”

“Name the date and time, I’ll be there,” Charlie affirmed.

“Hey Mal,” another bartender called from the back. “Abby called in for her shift at the front. Boss is asking you to cover for her tonight.”

“I’ll be right over,” Mallory said, her tone cool and professional. Then with a warm smile, she capped off her conversation with Charlie. “See you then, Charlie. Send me an owl.”

Charlie waved back. “See you.”

“What can I get for you two?” Mallory’s colleague asked after she’d gone out to the front.

“A pint of stout,” Charlie said. 

You were still preoccupied with the conversation that just occurred so the question didn’t even register in your brain. Who was Mallory? What kind of past did she have with Charlie?

“What about you, love?” the bartender pressed.

“(Y/N)?” Charlie leaned in, giving your arm a squeeze. “If you don’t answer, I’ll get you a stout, too.”

You quickly regained consciousness. “An aperol spritz, please. Thank you.”

“Is the idea of a stout really that terrible?” Charlie joked.

“Yes,” you gasped out. “Awful.”

In a matter of minutes, your drinks arrived and you were finally left alone.

“It’s always nice to see a familiar face, isn’t it?” Charlie remarked. 

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a nod. You vowed to forego your curiosity; there were more pressing matters. “Speaking of familiar things, how was your first week at Hogwarts?”

“Really great. I’m just settling in and getting accustomed to my classroom and Hagrid’s curriculum.”

“Does he know the meaning of a curriculum? I’ve heard his classes weren’t very…. Well-structured.”

“Not at all,” Charlie affirmed. “It’s whatever he feels like teaching that day. I might have to work with him a little.”

You grinned. “I can imagine.”

Charlie nodded his head. “You’re imagining right.” After a sip of beer, he resumed his thoughts. “But we’re not here to talk about Hagrid. We’re here to talk about next week.”

“Right! So, I prepared something,” you said, reaching into your purse for the rolled parchment. You hooked it with your finger and fished it out. “I was hoping to go over some notes with you—”

“(Y/N),” Charlie interrupted. His hand, leading with his thumb, was making a backward motion. “I need you to start from the beginning. Unlike my brothers, I know zilch about you.”

You set the parchment back in your purse and tucked it away. “Well, what do you know about me?”

“I know that everyone is terrified of your father, your brother is a right tosser, and your mother is gorgeous.”

Without thinking, you slapped Charlie on the arm, causing him to sputter in his drink. “Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

“If you’d let me finish my sentence,” Charlie protested after recovering. “I would’ve said, ‘that’s obviously who you got your looks from.’’”

Now, it was your turn to nearly sputter into your drink.

Charlie wagged a finger. “Careful, don’t spill that on yourself again.”

“I don’t reckon that was remotely my fault. You sat on me.”

Charlie was unfazed by your accusation and grinned instead. “Tell me more about your family.”

Quizzically, you continued, though you were unsure of how keen Charlie was on climbing your family tree. “My mother has two sisters, my aunts Bellatrix and Andromeda. I don’t have much to say there. My father has a brother and a sister. My uncle, Theodore Malfoy, and my aunt, Rosamund Malfoy. Thankfully for all of us, Uncle Theodore lives in France.”

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. “Why thankfully?”

You paused. You never had anyone show so much concentrated interest in your family. Even Fred and George didn’t care much past the surface, past taunts against Lucius or Draco. You explained to Charlie what happened in France this summer, how he’d made a grand show of displaying his new properties and putting your family down.  

“He’s perhaps the most terrible person I’ve met,” you huffed. “He’s worse than my father. You can’t talk about anything good without him doing you one better. And his spawn follows his mannerisms exactly.”

“Who are the spawn?”

“Genevieve. She’s my oldest cousin. She just got married this summer in Nice. She’s the worst. It was a cursed occasion because my mother came home with some nuptial fever. Her brother Claude is similarly terrible but he just talks less and conceals it better.” You gauged Charlie’s facial expression and could tell he was still engrossed. “I have two younger cousins, Charlotte and Clara. They’re pleasant, though I can’t tell the difference between them on a good day. They look very much alike despite being two years apart.”

“That leaves you,” Charlie remarked with a wide grin. “My favourite Malfoy.” 

You laughed. “I’m the only Malfoy you know.”

“I’ve heard of your brother,” Charlie said. “From what I’ve gathered, I prefer you.”

“I haven’t scared you off?”

“Not yet.”

His face read ‘try me’ to which you smiled at. 

Then, silence fell upon you. It was to be expected, a natural stall in the conversation. You took a prolonged sip of your cocktail to ease the awkwardness. As the bitters melted on your tongue, you searched for other things to talk about, but Charlie beat you to it.   

“(Y/N),” Charlie’s deep voice called out to you. 

You put your drink down on the table. “Yes?”

“I have a question for you.”

“Alright.”

Charlie shifted his stool over to yours. He was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his body. This time, instead of remaining where he was, he latched a hand on your kneecap. Every callus embedded on his fingers were noticeable on the groove of your knee, despite a layer of sheer tights separating his skin and yours. His grip didn’t hurt, but he was firm.

“What are you doing?” you panicked. Your tone came out more accusatory than you’d liked.

“Practising?” Charlie said quizzically. “Will it even be the least bit convincing if my touch repulses you?”

“I’m not repulsed!” you retorted. “It was just unexpected.”

Unexpected, as in you hadn't had a man touch you in months, maybe two years if you wanted the statement to be accurate. And at some point, you had stopped counting because the thought made you all the more miserable.

“That’s why I have a question,” he explained. “How much am I allowed to touch you at this… dinner?”

Your brain short-circuited for a minute. It was very hard to form any thoughts with Charlie’s sharp blue eyes tangled with yours, waiting for an answer like his life depended on it. The lopsided curve of his lip tempted a sacrilegious answer, one that you had too much modesty top provide. And now, things were harder with his large hand engulfing your kneecap. You were a deer in the headlights; he was the coyote catching his prey. 

“This is fine.” This would convince your parents. Merlin, even you were convinced.

“Alright.”

You looked down. Your skin burned beneath his touch, and you had to wonder why you felt this way, why you were suddenly so flushed and withdrawn. Surely, if Fred pulled this act, you’d touch—or rather, slap—him back in retaliation.

Charlie’s thumb began to rub circles above your knee as he asked: “What about this?”

You stifled a sound. You were ticklish but you also couldn’t deny that that wasn’t the only sensation you were feeling. You couldn’t pinpoint it but you knew his touch wasn't at all unwanted.

“Don’t you think that’s too much?” you murmured. “All we need is a solid story, and I reckon we should be able to get away with it.”

“Nothing is too much if the goal is to convince your parents you like me, emotionally and physically,” Charlie commented with a laugh. “That’s the equation of love. Got it?”

You nodded slowly. Sure, you understood arithmetic, but this was a devilishly dangerous line he was toeing around. 

He scooted even closer to you, his barstool squeaking against the floor, to be able to lift his hand from your knee to find your waist instead. His palm found its way to the dead centre, gravitating towards the most delicate part of you. 

“Still okay?” he asked with an upward tilt of his head. You were entranced by how sharp his jaw cut under at this angle.  

You nodded slowly, lips parting slightly as a result. He was so close that you could smell the alcohol on his lips. You hoped the dim lighting obfuscated your reddening face.

“Good job,” he praised with a smirk. “You’re doing great, (Y/N).”

Your head spun as if the prosecco in the aperol spritz had concentrated and exploded in your bloodstream all at once. Charlie’s voice started sounding further and further away, even though you were intently watching him inch closer. The room behind him blurred like a camera finding a focus on its subject. Charlie was your subject, his every freckle and crease near his gleaming eyes clear as day.

“Do you do this… often?”

You could barely hear your own voice.

“Sh, I’m the one asking questions. Keep focussed on the conversation we’re having.” 

Focus? You wanted to ask Charlie if a dragon had clawed off his frontal lobe, leaving him helpless to his impulses. A prime example: this scene he was making.

“Now,” he continued, squeezing your waist. “What is your limit?”

“My—” you stammered, unable to gauge the meaning of his two-toned words. “My limit? As in alcohol?”

A barking laugh shattered your daze and brought you back to the present. Charlie’s voice was now glassy clear and his tone melodic. “(Y/N), let’s reroute back to the question of how much I can touch you.”

“Erm, this is okay,” you eked out through shallow breaths. Had Charlie shrunk your lungs? Was there such a spell? “I don’t imagine anyone would want to see any more.”

His eyes darkened. Your heart stopped. “What if I kissed you?” he asked.

Well, your heart was certifiably alive again because it had just catapulted against your chest, almost throwing you forward.

‘Now? Or next week?’ You wanted to scream. At this point, it was hard to tell and if he didn’t stop talking, you were really going to die. Might as well have the bartenders dig a hole in the ground right here and bury you with a tombstone carved with the words ‘Cause of Death: Charlie Weasley.’

“Let’s hope the situation’s not dire enough to have to come to that,” you said. On the contrary, your eyes were drinking in those smirky lips like they were the finest and richest wine in the world and wondering if rehearsals should be in order.

“But if it did?”

You pursed your lips which Charlie noticed, his eyes falling downwards, long lashes casting shadows over his face. You had to approach this logically and weigh the benefits and risks. If you had to kiss Charlie for a millisecond, it could mean a lifetime of your parents off your back. And a seriously tumultuous friendship with Fred and George if they found out.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“It would be fine,” you whispered with minimal conviction. “But only as a last resort.”

A rush of blood pounded your head when he was a mere three inches from your face. You gulped when you saw yourself reflected in his eyes. One wrong move and your nose would brush up against his freckled one.

“Of course,” he stated, looking offended. “You’d think I’d just waltz in next weekend and we’d start snogging in the foyer? You must think better of me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—’

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Charlie teased, scooting back and letting his legs stretch out. Your eyes were glued to his hands and arms that were crossed in front of his chest. A cocky grin graced his chiselled face. “But this is great. I’ve got enough for next week.”

“Shouldn’t we discuss more about what we’re going to do?” you protested. Your voice was desperate and frantic. “We have to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“No, I really do have all that I need.”

“I wrote some things down, some critical points we should hit,” you pleaded, trying to find the parchment in your purse. When you unfurled it, Charlie was quick to snatch it out of your hands. He crushed it between his palms. When he opened his hand up again, the parchment was nothing more than cinder that disintegrated before it could hit the floor. 

You were absolutely and undeniably sober after that action. Any thoughts of giving into a kiss dissipated immediately (and you weren’t sure why you were flirting with that idea in the first place). Your blood alcohol level: negative. Your chances of being betrothed to Goyle: positive.

“Charlie!” 

“(Y/N)!” he imitated in a loud, whiny drawl that attracted the attention of the man beside him. You flushed; you did not sound like that. “Let’s get another round to soothe those nerves of yours.”

His grin grew wider as he flagged down the bartender. A blonde woman immediately swivelled towards him. He pointed to your drinks. You shut your eyes in defeat, resisting the urge to slam your head on the table.

 His laissez-faire attitude was going to be the death of you.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

[ifortom]

Bad Decisions - T.H. (1)

frat!Tom x Reader - Fake dating AU

Summary: Tom and Y/N, two students with opposite personalities, join forces to solve a problem: they both desperately need a fake relationship to escape different social pressures.

MASTERLIST

W/C: +3K

DAY 0

There is an unknown saying that says that every choice is a loss and that good choices will also hurt. Some may say that the best choices are those that are made calmly and cautiously. Choices made on impulse are the most worrying. Taking a risk without thinking about the consequences and not being sure you can deal with them is dangerous.

But perhaps, thinking too much about a decision to be made is not a good option. Sometimes we need to take risks and be willing to face whatever comes our way. Regardless of the need.

That's why you find yourself on an endless tightrope with only two alternatives: keep walking trying to keep your balance without seeing the end or throw yourself towards whatever can hold you before you hit the ground. That whatever being a brown haired boy with stars in his eyes who you call your friend.

‘’Friend” may even be too strong a word for what defines your relationship with the famous Tom Holland, one of the players on the college football team. Known for his charm and great performance on the field, intelligent, friendly and attentive, these are just some of the qualities that define the boy.

What started as just a pair project on social psychology has become a constant in your life. You and Tom worked hard during class and received a high grade due to your research performance and dedication. But what surprised you was Tom's insistence on staying in contact with you.

No stereotypes but truth be told, you would never have exchanged a single word if it weren't for this project. Despite having already crossed each other's path at times, nothing ever went beyond that.

Today, Tom is curled up on the sofa in your living room with a book in his hands, while you are sitting on the floor with a notebook open on the coffee table. Study dates happen frequently between the two of you. Despite his fame, Tom is very focused on his studies and is months away from graduating in psychology, just like you.

"Can we take that break you promised?" He says without looking up from the book but without reading a single word.

"It's been exactly 20 minutes since we started.'' You said.

"Isn't there a study method like this? You study for a few minutes and take a break?"

"I don't think that's how it works, Tommy" You giggled.

"I'm bored" He says, closing the book and throwing it on the table in front of him.

"Studying isn't supposed to be boring. If it is for you, it means you're not learning anything."

"Seriously Y/N, you can't tell me that studying about catharsis and free association is fun" He looked at you in disbelief.

"Tom, this is literally part of the course curriculum... you should have known this when you signed up."

He huffed and lay down on the couch, looking at the ceiling of your living room.

You even tried to turn your attention to the content in front of you but every 30 seconds he would snort, clearly seeking your attention.

"Alright, you win!" You said, letting go of the pen that was in your hand and turning towards the boy lying comfortably on your sofa. "If my grades drop, it's your fault, and don't complain about yours later." He grinned standing up and sitting down.

"As if there's any chance your grades will drop, smartiepants” You rolled your eyes, sitting on the couch next to him. "I'm hungry. What do you say we order something to eat?"

Just as you thought about agreeing, his cell phone went off. He picked it up off the table and you noticed that it was a video call from Brian, one of the other players on the team.

Tom quickly looked at you who just shrugged. He got up answering the call.

"Where are you, bro?" The muffled sound came from the other end of the line.

"What is happening?" Tom asked while watching his friend, clearly out of control of his cell phone, focusing the camera on everything but himself.

"Bro, the party at Taylor's house, did you forget? Everyone's here. She said she invited you and she seems disappointed that you're not here yet. Where are you?” Tom rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm at Y/N's house." He replied.

"Dude, again? You better be seizing the opportunity and using it to your advantage." Shaking his head, Tom walked to the open balcony door and closed it behind him, making it impossible for you to hear the rest of the conversation.

Even though you know him better now, you also know Tom's reputation around campus. You know that he has been involved with many girls and that he has already broken the hearts of most of them who always expected more from him than he was willing to give.

You also know that most of the kids on the team only think with their other head and not the one above their necks. You know people talk about your friendship with Tom. Everyone thinks you're fucking in secret.

But Tom never took any initiative in this regard. Nor did he show any interest in you in that way, despite the intimacy you very quickly created with each other. There have been a few nights where you shared a bed and even cuddled on the couch while watching a movie. Not to mention the dates you had together but were never named that way.

So everything was always platonic. Two people who understand each other and feel comfortable with each other to share the most intimate moments.

Even though this all happened in just 6 months.

Getting up, you started putting away your study materials, waiting for Tom to say he was going to that party. Surely you lost all desire to study and your only objective from that moment on was to lie in your bed until daylight.

Maybe you could even ask for something to eat and drown your sorrows.

Not 5 minutes had passed and you heard the sliding door to the balcony opening again.

"Hey, did you give up studying?" Tom said looking at the now clean table. His belongings were also already inside the backpack he brought and no longer scattered on the floor.

"Yeah, I thought about going to sleep, actually." Tom looked at you in surprise.

"I thought we were going to order something to eat... then we could watch a movie, that new horror movie you wanted to see just came out."

"It's called Totally Killer..."

"So... what are we waiting for? Would you really rather sleep than hide in my arms when a scene scares the hell out of you?" He said smiling and opening his arms.

"You know I never do that, and if I remember correctly you're the one who has to hide when a movie gets too scary."

"You know that's our secret, don't you?" He said sitting down on the couch.

"I thought you were going to... what's her name? Tina's party?" You said mockingly.

"Taylor, actually. And no, I'm not going there" He said and you sat down next to him.

"Can I know why?"

"You know Y/N... It's Taylor. Taylor Brown."

"Ah, the girl who won't let go of you? I thought she had given up, I haven't heard you talk about her in a while."

Taylor was one of the girls who had created too many expectations after a night with Tom. The problem is that it wasn't just one night. She was one of the only girls Tom almost had a relationship with, they hooked up several times and even hung out together all the time. But just 2 months after meeting you it seems they broke up, with the story that he wasn't ready for a relationship. And since then, Taylor has been looking for any opportunity to be close to Tom.

"She invited me and insisted that I go to the party today. I just spoke to her on the phone..." He sighed, running a hand through his curls. "I don't know what to do anymore Y/N... I made it clear to her that I don't want anything serious but she keeps pushing me."

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to agree with whatever you say?"

"Be honest"

"First of all," You settled down on the couch, facing him, "you shouldn't have hooked up with her at Brian's party two weeks ago. You just fueled the fire even more."

"I was drunk, we kissed. And nothing more than that happened, you know that."

"Yes, I was there helping you when you got sick."

He laid his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"I just wanted to take a break from this. I didn't mean to. I don't want to give her hope. I have so many things to think about and a complicated relationship isn't one of them."

Tom is a person completely responsible for his actions. He was raised like this since he was a child. Despite loving football, he knows the importance of his studies and always seeks to improve himself more and more. He still doesn't know what career he wants to follow, as his talent for football was only discovered in his first year of college, but you're sure that whatever side he chooses will be a success. He knows he gets distracted easily and doesn't want to put anything in front of his main goal right now: graduating.

"If relationships weren't something so complicated, who knows..."

"I don't think relationships are complicated... people are." You sighed, moving closer to him and placing your head on his shoulder. "Relationships should be calm and welcoming. Of course, there is no relationship without problems and that's okay. But we are the problem... we are the ones who complicate things.” Tom gently took your hand that was in your lap and intertwined your fingers.

"Sometimes we overthink things. Relationships should be light. Not a weight we have to carry on our shoulders."

"I'm sorry" he said in a whisper as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

Tom knows your story. He knows about the relationship you had that lasted 4 years and you swore it was that once in a lifetime thing. He even met the boy who broke your heart into thousands of pieces and left you to glue them back together alone. He didn't know you at the time, he only found out that your ex-boyfriend was his rival from another university a few months after you met and after he commented on the asshole who almost broke his leg during a match.

You and Sean met two months after classes started at a friendly match between the two universities. He accidentally slipped in front of you while running towards the field and you laughed at him. He flirted with you and promised he would take you out for coffee if he won the game.

His team lost but he kept his word.

It's hard to say when the flame between you went out. And this is something you don't try to think about often. Something inside you changed when Sean decided to leave your life. Maybe the broken pieces of your heart were still lying around, waiting to be fixed.

"It's okay... You don't have to feel about it."

"If I could, I would finish him off."

"Oh, how manly. My savior."

You laughed but soon the laughter was replaced by the silence of the apartment. The two of you continued to sit next to each other maintaining physical contact, Tom held your hand firmly and showed no signs of letting go anytime soon.

That was a constant between you. Even the silence was pleasant. Just each other's breath and presence was enough.

"My sister will be getting married in 2 months." You said.

"Woah, already? That's good isn't it?"

"It seems so." You sighed. "I don't wanna go."

"Why?"

"The last time I was home they wouldn't stop asking me about Sean... even after 5 months since we broke up."

Your family loved Sean. Just like you, at one point they were just waiting for you to announce your engagement.

"Do you need support?" He asked.

"I can't ask that of you"

"If you need me to go as your date it won't be a problem, you don't have to deal with this alone."

"Maybe I'll find a boyfriend in two months. Maybe they'll stop asking me about my ex if I show them I've moved on." You joked.

Silence returned and the two of you remained in the same position. As you closed your eyes, enjoying the calm of the moment, Tom's head was spinning with different thoughts.

That's when he found the solution.

“Y/N, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

"What?" You said scared, raising your head and looking at Tom's profile. "Are you crazy?" You said laughing.

"I meant... my fake girlfriend." He stared at you.

"Tom, you've got to be kidding."

"I'm serious. Think with me, okay?" He said looking at you seriously, which made the smile fall from your face. "You need to introduce someone to your family to forget about your damn ex. And I need to take a break from Taylor and show her that I'm not available."

"Tom... I don't... I don't think that's a good idea." You said, looking at everything around you except his eyes.

"Look, I'm not going to force you into anything... it was just a thought I had given of our situations." He said, settling back down on the couch.

You felt the air in the room change and Tom seemed shy and embarrassed by what he had just proposed.

"Tommy, this could end badly. I don't want things to get complicated between us."

"You know you don't need to, nothing has ever been like that with us. But it's okay, forget what I said. It was stupid, I don't know what I was thinking." He said, running his hand over his face.

Tom had already let go of your hand a while ago and suddenly you felt the extreme need to hold his again. But something changed and it was strange. He had just proposed a romantic relationship between the two of you. What would that involve? Kisses, hugs, dates... sex?

"Still hungry? Shall we order something?" You said trying to get back into the mood.

Tom got up quickly.

"Actually, I think I'll go. You said you wanted to sleep, so..."

Surprised by his decision, you stood up as you watched him put his backpack on his back.

"Ah, okay. So, can we watch the movie another day maybe?" You said awkwardly.

"Yeah, another day" He replied in the same tone.

Normally, he would hug you when saying goodbye but this time he just shook his head and walked towards the front door. He also left without looking back.

What just happened?

After Tom left you didn't do much. The hunger you felt completely disappeared too. You took a shower with the intention of relaxing your tense shoulders and then lay down on your bed.

Despite your attempts, nothing could put you into a deep sleep. Millions of thoughts were running through your head at the wrong time. How did Tom think of something like that? Does he feel comfortable with you on that level? Wouldn't that be weird? What could happen to your friendship? What is the limit of a fake relationship?

At some point during the night you decided to use your cell phone and browse social media.

Big mistake.

Angela, a colleague from a previous curricular subject had posted a series of photos and videos a few hours ago. The first photo was nothing more than a selfie in the bathroom mirror with another unknown girl. The following photos already included the place and people present at the party. In any other situation, you wouldn't care much about a specific photo, but due to the events of hours ago you felt heat rush to your face when you saw a photo of Tom with his arms around Taylor.

In fact, one of his arms was resting on her shoulders, while the other was on the shoulders of his best friend Harrison. Seemed friendly, just posing for the photo. But knowing their history, it's suspicious. So he went to the party after being rejected? Does what you did count as one?

At that moment you felt something changing inside you. Would it be a bad idea? Despite the short time, Tom has become a constant in your life and you know that he knows you like no one else. Still with your head racing, you left your cell phone aside and reflected a little more before sleep completely invaded you.

...

Due to the time you spent rolling around in bed before going to sleep, the extra 5 minutes before getting up became almost 30. You barely missed the first class of the day, and despite the teacher's ugly face when he saw you enter 15 minutes after hours, it was very useful. Lily, a friend, was already saving your spot.

"What took you so long?" She whispered.

"I'll tell you later." You replied smiling slightly.

The truth is that only one thing was on your mind this morning: finding Tom.

The class distracted you for long enough and when the teacher dismissed the class, you were one of the first to leave the room. Lily didn't even have time to ask you anything else.

You made your way through the halls to the courtyard, heading to the football field at the back of the campus knowing you would find your target there.

He was sitting in one of the lower stands. The sun made the sweat dripping off him shine, he had probably already ran around the field a little. The slightly tight uniform left little to the imagination. Some boys from the team were on the field chasing the ball, while others surrounded Tom.

You walked up to him, holding tight to the strap of your bag, suddenly not feeling as confident as before. When you were a few meters away, Tyler, one of the boys spotted you and tapped Tom on the shoulder getting his attention before pointing to where you were.

Tom looked confused but he got up and ran to you.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" He asked.

"Uh, I... I came to see you." You replied embarrassed. What was happening?

"Really?" He said with a playful tone. "I didn't know I was so dear to you" He joked.

"Yesterday you left very quickly and I..."

"I know, I'm sorry about that Y/N. Can we just forget it happened? Forget anything I said?" He cut you off and ran his hand through his hair looking embarrassed.

"Tommy..."

"Look, I need to keep training, the coach might complain and I don't want to get you in trouble." He interrupted you again. "Ah, I think I'm going to have lunch with the boys today, is that ok? We can arrange another day." He was already turning around before he even finished the sentence and fear spread throughout your body.

Was he suddenly avoiding you? Has he felt so embarrassed that the only option he has now is to push you away?

On impulse, you grabbed his hand before he moved further away from you. He turned around and you looked at him.

"I'll do it." You stated.

A/N: And so it begings! I'm really excited and I hope you like it. Don't forget to tell me what you think, feedback is important!

Tagging: @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @un06 @lnmp89 @hoodharlow @let-me-luve-you @erule @smoofine @smile2345 @itsdoni @helen-on-earth @hollands-underoos

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

♡Dear Diary♡

Heyyy girliesss this week has been super crazy for me and I need to spill lol <333

♡Education♡

This week was so exhaustingggg. Taking six classes this semester is a bit more exhausting than it was last semester. I am a bit confused in my psychology statistics class. The professor has a me a bit confused but he is so nice! That’s the only the thing that sucks is how nice he is but he isn’t the best explainer for someone with my learning style. My bio class is going well but so much notes and stuff to learn I just can’t. But I got this I know I do I just need to pull through this semester and then I’ll be free in December. I love school when I’m not in school but hate it when I’m in school. I love the structure school gives my life.

♡Mental♡

I had my first counseling session for the semester it was so amazing my new counselor is amazing she is so relaxed and I definitely feel like a click with her. I had a man last semester and I am so happy I didn’t force myself to stick with him he wasn’t a terrible person but he wasn’t what I needed in a counselor. I needed a woman, someone who understood me and I could be vulnerable with I didn’t feel comfortable enough to cry in-front of him and I felt like he didn’t know how to help me. Mentally I’ve been in a healthy space challenging myself and my ways of thinking every single day it’s tough some days and amazing others but that is life.

♡Physical♡

I’ve been walking an hour every single day and I’m so proud of myself! Hitting close to 10,000 steps. I am not focused on the number of steps I’m more focused on the time I spend walking everyday. I’m going to start Pilates again soon and I’m super excited to start Pilates. I’ve been slowly working my way into my fitness these past three weeks it’s been walking consistently for an hour a day and in two weeks it’ll be an hour of walking a day and Pilates three times a week. Slow and steady wins the race. Resetting my fitness journey was the best thing I’ve done for myself. If you’d love a blog post on this let me know.

♡Hobbies♡

I am currently thinking of taking up a few new hobbies. I went hiking this weekend it was so much fun!! I met so many nice people and had such nice conversations. I walked a lot we didn’t really “hike” we walked around a beautiful large park that was filled with large gardens and fountains it was beautiful. I met another hijabi we conversed about hormones, studies I found online, careers, college and so much more. There were other amazing kind people as well. I can’t wait for our next hike! I need to go shopping for more “Nike hijabs” and hiking friendly clothing for hijabi’s because I can not pass out lol. I plan on joining more clubs that pique my interests<3333

Have an amazing weekend my lovessss and continue to affirm yourself, push yourself, and enjoy yourself. You are right where you need to be in life right now and you should enjoy every bit of It love youuu girliesss<33333

[onebizarrekai]

Do any of the ibvs characters do any specific classes? Like which language studies do they do or if they do any AP classes and whatnot. I know this may come up in the story, but I also know these teenagers are too busy dealing with supernatural threats to be talking about normal stuff like school.

honestly at this point it's a running joke that the story never addresses their classes. we know isaac and drew do french, chris and nevin do spanish (nevin is doing spanish because it's easy credit, go figure). everyone's obviously stuck in yearly typical requirements (y'know, math, english, science, etc). but here are my thoughts about it, liable to change if necessary:

• because cody is the Math Guy, I feel like he's doing a calculus class • louis is probably one of those kids who has way too many AP classes • isaac's doing art APs, but only because his parents talked him into it • edward is probably doing one or two, I just have no idea what they should be. maybe a government class? • barry's definitely in AP biology • nevin wants to go to culinary school, so he's probably not wasting time on APs. I feel like drew hasn't signed up for any either. and chris hasn't, he's just trying to get through school • I imagine niki being in too many as well. maybe not a louis amount but she's probably in government, psychology, maybe history • I would bet that felix is also in government. because of course he is. maybe that's this picture (edward you fool, maybe you do share a class with him) • characters I'm not sure about: dez, justin, stacy and everyone else

I have feelings about real life absurd high school workloads in the US and the expectations to do AP everything put on kids for no reason, but this is a funny story where classes and workloads are imaginary, so I won't get into it.

[makemeimmortalwithahug]

4, 8 (for crystal) and 14 for the dbd asks!!

4 - BROTP

my easy answer would be Edwin and Niko, because their friendship is so special to me. Therefore, I will say something slightly different: Niko and Monty. Their vibes are immaculate and they both are really soft-spoken and lovely. I think Niko's love for romance and reality check after the drama with Jenny and Maxine juxtaposed with Monty who has been human for so little time and who looks at everything with absolute excitement would make for a really great dynamic which I wish they explore in s2

8 - headcanon for Crystal

my favourite headcanon for her right now is that after learning of the extent of her powers, she starts getting really interested in psychology and how family can influence you in different ways. She finishes school and goes to university for a degree in psychology. Edwin indulges her and listens to podcasts about different topics related to it with her and quizzes her on them for fun

14 - plotline for s2/any future season

oh do I have ideas!

obviously Niko has to come back! She's essential for me and the agency, we definitely need her

Monty should follow them to London, I refuse to think he might not come back, I love him

Charles should be the one who has to be saved! Boy has been through so much trying to keep everyone around him safe, it's time for a change, so that he has clear proof how much the others love him

feral Edwin! Give me Edwin who casts spell with barely any effort, him fencing with an enemy in an empty hallway, the light catching his every movement, Edwin who drops everything and abandons every plan imaginable as soon as Charles is in danger

Crystal and Niko go back to school and between cases, the girls show Edwin and Charles what they're currently studying and they talk about how much has changed, for example history or physics class. At first you might think it's "just" there in every episode for bonding time, but in the final episode they defeat the villain with their shared knowledge and obscure facts Niko read at 3am before an exam

[cmncisspnandmore]

Silent Moments

Silent Moments

Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, blood, gore, past character death. Mention of dead mom. Suicide. 

Request:

Hello, I was wondering if I could make a request? Maybe it’s a Spencer x Reader and the reader is blind/deaf/mute (you pick which one) and the UnSub gets a hold of them and gets angry as they don’t understand why reader can’t answer their questions?

Authors note: This is not cannon, and doesn't follow the cannon timeline. Hotch isn't gone, and Morgan never left (Solely because i am stalling hardcore on finishing criminal minds and haven't really gotten too far into the seasons without Hotch and Morgan being gone.)

~~~~~

Most people believe that selective mute people are faking it. That we are purposely trying to avoid talking to others. That's not the case, at one point we were normal people. Having conversations, making jokes. Living life without taking our words for advantage. Then something happens, this horrid ugly anxiety rears its head, trapping the words inside. For you, it happened when you were 15, and you found your mother in the bathtub, dead as a doornail. The only indication that anything was wrong was the note taped to the bathroom mirror apologizing for the mess. From that day on, it was like your words were stuck in a box, locked in the bottom of your chest. 

You managed to finish highschool at home, through online classes, and copious amounts of anti anxiety meds. But for some reason those pesky words never came back. Every once in a while you would find a sound, but never anything intelligible. You got into college, studying criminal psychology. Communicating through writing on papers, and some signed english. Everyone was always trying to get you to talk, often getting frustrated when you didn't. It wasn't that you didn't want to talk, it was that you couldn't. If they thought they were frustrated, they should try living in your head. It had been almost 6 years since you said anything. You missed your own voice, therapy felt useless at this point. Medications were the only thing keeping you from going insane during the day. 

Then you met Dr. Spencer Reid in your serial killer lecture. He didn't try to get you to talk, he didn't treat you like you were dumb or that it was fake. He saw you for you. He took time to meet with you and answer the questions you had about his lectures. He would carve out hours of his own time when he was home to just get to know you. He would talk to you about anything and everything when the two of you worked through the entire lesson of the day. 

Spencer never once took your mutism as a burden. Eventually the semester came to an end, You was no longer his student, he no longer your professor. So when you stopped into his office almost a year ago, staring at him across his desk. Spencer just smiled, and asked if everything was alright, if i had needed anything. He was stunned when you managed to whisper that you wanted to have coffee with him, your body shaking with anxiety. It had taken you hours of practice and countless days of sending yourself into a sheer panic, to manage to get out those simple words that so many others wouldn't think twice about. 

So when you finally looked up at Spencer, and seeing tears openly falling from his eyes, you were shocked. It was in that moment that you knew, your words would be safe with him. After a moment Spencer had walked around his desk, tear stained cheeks and all. To hug you tight as you broke down from the mental and emotional exhaustion those words had caused.

From that day on, you two  became inseparable. Over the years you’ve been together,  you have managed to open up the box that your words were kept in around him. You could have actual conversations at times. It was still hard and draining, but you could manage, a few words here and there when out  in public around his team. 

When you had first met them they were nothing but understanding. They never pushed you and often times, would just text you throughout the day when they were on cases to make sure you’re doing okay. They had become your family. They cared for you in ways your own family couldn't after your mothers death. 

When someone knocked on the apartment door, you opened it without hesitation, seeing a man in a suit standing there. His hair slicked back, a gun in a holster by his hip. He looked like he could work with Spencer and the team so you didn't think much of it when you saw him through the peephole moments before.

“Are you Y/N?” He asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a FBI badge flashing it at you. You nodded, worry clouding your mind as the man nodded. 

“Im here to bring you to the hospital, something has happened to Spencer Reid. I was told to collect you immediately.” He reaches his hand out taking you by arm, you nod silently as your apartment door slams shut as he guides you down the hall. 

Your mind is foggy as he helps you into a black SUV and starts to drive. After a few moments you begin to realize youre going the opposite way of the hospital. Your mind is screaming at you that something is wrong, but your words are locked up tight. The crippling anxiety starts to seep into your every muscle. 

“You stupid bitch, you're gonna pay for what your precious boyfriend did to my brother.” the man driving pulls the gun out of the holster and presses it against your side as he drives. 

“At least you're not a screamer.” He smiles as tears flood your vision, and he presses the gun harder against your side. 

~~~~

Spencers POV

Walking through the bullpen Spencers gut is telling him something isn't right. You normally would have picked up the phone when he called even if you weren't able to say anything. But his last 4 calls have gone unanswered. His facetimes as well. The door to Hotchner's office is open, and Spencer walks through the doorway, urgency in his steps.

“Reid?”  Hotch sets the stack of papers down on his desk, his brow furrowing.

“Something is wrong, i don't know what but Y/N isn't picking up.” Spencers rushes out, pacing in front of his desk.

“Care to explain?” 

“She always picks up, or at least sends me a text saying that she cant talk right now. Not in the selective mute sense, but as in shes doing something and unable to pick up the phone you know. But i called her like 5 times and facetimed her with the stupid phone she made me get, and nothing. Its been radio silence on the other end. Im really starting to worry.” Spencer raked a hand through his unruly hair. 

With a nod Hotch stood from his desk, “okay, we’ll figure it out.”

As hotch picked up his phone to dial the rest of the team, Penelope ran into the office, her face horror struck. “I-I just got live video feed…. Someone hacked into my network. Oh god, its bad. So bad… I don't know how they got in. Im gonna have to fix that.” Garcia gushed, her eyes wide.

“Garcia whats wrong? Whats on the live feed?” Hotch urged, placing a hand on her arm trying to bring her back to the whole reason she came into the room. Garcia's eyes flickered to Hotch before she scurried over to his computer her manicured nails tapping furiously on the keys.

“It’s being bounced between a whole bunch of servers so im having a hard time tracing it, but its better if you just see.” She replies as she turns the monitor to face Spencer and Hotchner.

On the screen through a grainy camera feed sat you, tied to a chair, ropes on your wrists and ankles. Your head was down, your hair obscuring part of your face, but spencer would recognize you anywhere. No matter how bad the camera quality was. He spent hours memorizing every part of your face, and body. He knew your mannerisms better than his own. He didn't even need his eidetic memory to know it was you. Your face jerks up suddenly, the videos lack of sound made spencer wonder what you heard on the other end.  Your left eye was swollen shut, and your lip was split and bleeding. Your hair was stained red around your temple. You were shaking your head, and suddenly sound crackled through the speakers on Hotchner's computer. 

“Are you going talk to me? Tell me why they think my brother murdered those women?!” A male voice seethed, his masked form appearing in front of you as he stepped out from behind the camera. There was nothing to identify him by, he was wearing all black, a ski mask, his voice was distorted. Spencers mind was racing through all the cases they worked, but there were so many unknown factors. How long ago had the case been worked? How many women? Where was the case? How many siblings were there? Just one pair of brothers? 

There were hundreds of people who could be holding you captive. They worked so many cases a year, without more context it was hard to narrow it down. But whoever this person was they believed that their brother didn't commit the crimes he was convicted of and he was gonna use you to get to the team.

“S-she cant answer him, he doesn't realize she cant tell him anything.” Garcia whispered as the man yelled at you once again. Causing you to flinch as he struck out with his hand, sticking across your cheek.

“TELL ME!” He screamed, the speakers on the computer distorting with the volume of his voice. 

Once again, the demand went unanswered. “Fine, if you're not gonna tell me, then maybe i’ll give them some incentive to look a little deeper at the case, my brother was executed for a crime he didn't commit. Wanna know why? Because im the one who killed those women. I want his name cleared. You have 12 hours, before i gut her like  fish. Tick Tock Dr. your time is running out.”

The screen went black as video cut out, a flashing timer appearing where your picture once was, counting down the time the team had left. 

Spencers heart dropped, and everything felt cold. How were they going to sift through hundreds of cases before time ran out.

~~~~

Your POV

Your head hurt, you could taste blood, and you’re pretty sure you won't be able to see out of you eye for a month. The man who took you was pacing back and forth behind the camera on the tripod he had set up. He was muttering to himself, talking about how there was no way they would be able to save you.

“You know, your life would be a lot easier if you just talked to me. Told me why, But no you choose to keep your mouth shut. And you know what? You’re gonna die because of it. I hope you trying to protect your precious boyfriend is worth your life.” He smiled, grabbing you by your hair, yanking your head backwards. You could see the camera lens, but you knew that it was off, the red light that was on when he was talking to who you assumed was the team was off.

A small whimper left you as he brushed a gloved hand down your cheek. You wanted nothing more than to scream and tell him that you knew nothing. That spencer and the others didn't tell you that sort of information, they didn't want to risk upsetting you. He didn't seem to care or grasp the concept that you couldnt talk to him. 

“Now im gonna go and drop off a little hint for them, make the game more exciting you sit here like a good girl okay?” He patted your cheek before walking away to the computer he was using to live stream to the team. He turned the monitor towards you, starting the stream again. 

“I’ll be watching you, so don't try anything while im gone.” 

The door slammed shut after a moment. Your head was still aching as you blinked at the screen. You didn't know what was going to happen, and the hopeless feeling got worse as you watched the timer tick down.

~~~~~ Spencers POV 

 The whole team was gathered around the round table. Morgan was sifting through piles of work, handing the cases that contained male unsub to spencer who was reading them just as fast as they were handed to him. Garcia had set up her computers on the round table, trying to desperately back trace the connection of the live feed. 

“Garcia you getting anywhere” JJ asks after a few moments, watching the techs fingers get faster over the keys.

“Actually yes, I was able to back hack him and get into the stream but i still cant get where its coming from.” She muttered as she glanced up at Spencer.

“Wait, you’re in the computer hes streaming from?” Spencers hand hovered over the page he was reading a moment before. 

“Yes why?” Garcias full attention was now on the genius.

“Can you get a message to Y/N, she might be able to give us a hint on where she is.” Spencer rounded the table, his stomach clenching at the sight of you. You were staring directly at the camera. Your eyes vacant, much like when your xanax kicked in after particularly bad panic attack. 

“I think so but he wouldn't leave this up of he wasn't watching it as well.” Garcias fingers were moving over the keys again. Overtaking the computer remotely.

“Thats fine, just tell her that we can see her, and that were looking for her.” Spencer glanced down at the screen again.

“Okay. i’ll try.” Garcia muttered under her breath, as she brought up a text screen  on the computer. Quickly typing out a message, and waiting for you to notice it. The whole team was now watching the camera. Waiting to see if you would respond, after a moment your eyes scanned the text. With wide eyes you looked directly at the camera, more tears flooded down your cheek. 

A knock on the door caught everyone's attention, a delivery boy stood in the doorway a visitors pass stuck to his jacket. “Um i was told to deliver this to a Spencer reid…” in his outstretched was a blue box with a white ribbon. 

“Who gave this to you?” Spencer asks, pulling the box from the boys arms, ripping open the ribbon and tearing back the flaps of the box. Inside lay 2 identical pins, each a snake with red eyes, and black stripes. 

“Um just some guy, i didn't really see him, he was in a dark suv, you know government looking vehicles. It didn't have any plates or anything, all he said was make sure this got to spencer reid in the BAU.” The boy looked between them all. 

“Thank you,” Hotch said as he took the boy by the arm, “Agent Morgan, is gonna ask you a few questions.”

With a nod at Spencer, Morgan followed Hotch out of the room. “What significance is a pin?” Emily wondered out loud. 

“Ive never seen anything like this before.” JJ murmured, peering over spencers shoulder. 

“Its gotta mean something. It was intended for me, so it must be for me to figure out.” Spencer glanced down into the box again. What kind of message was the Unsub trying to send. 

“Um shes trying to tell us something!!” Garcia's voice broke the silence that settled over the room as spencer wracked his brain for what the pins could mean.

“I -I cant tell what shes trying to sign, im not very good at it. We usually communicate on paper.” Garcia moved aside, as spencer moved around the table.

Your fingers were moving rapidly, fingerspelling something out, but without your full range of motion, it was hard to tell what letters you were spelling out. “Can you isolate her hand movements?” Spencer wondered.

“Yeah, yeah give me a second.”  Garcia’s fingers worked overtime to isolate your hand movements. 

“S-c-a-r e-y-e b-l-i-n-d… Scar, eye, blind. He has a scar through one eye, hes blind in one eye!” Spencer announces. The whole team pausing for a moment to think back on the cases. 

“Wait wait, you said that there was 2 identical pins in the box? What if hes telling us hes an identical twin.” Emily wonders, walking back over to the pile of cases spencer had been going through.

“The Ashby case! Twin brothers, one has a scar, yes! The Ashby twins, in knoxville tennessee. Jordan was thought to have murdered 3 women on his parents farm. He had an identical twin brother Joesph, but we ruled Joesph out because we didn't think he would be able to commit the crimes with having surgery on his eye after a car accident left him blind in his left eye.” Spencer remembers, the hospital records showed that Joseph had declined his home visit nurses around when Jordan was murdering the women.

“What if Joseph had his brother pose as him, all he had to do was have him put gauze over his eye and refuse the let the home nurses check it. No one would figure it out that it was actually Jordan. Jordan must’ve just been an accomplice, he never actually murdered those women. He still would’ve gone to jail, but he wouldn’t have face the death penality. “ Emily opens up the file, laying it out on the table, the crime scene pictures laid out. Spencers eyes race over the pictures, until something in the top corner of one of the pictures of the living room catches his eye. In a glass hutch is a set of identical snake pins.  Just like the ones in the box. 

“The pins! They were in the house.” Spencer exclaims, pointing to the hutch, so everyone can see it. 

“Okay so now we know who has her, but how do we find her?” Emily looks over at Garcia who is waiting with fingers poised over her computer keys.

“Garcia check and see if Joseph has used a card anywhere in our area within the last week, i want to know when and where he got here.” JJ says, going to stand behind the tech, watching as her finger fly over the keys. 

The timer appears over the small window Garcia has open, the count down now saying they have less than an hour to find you. Static crackles through the speakers and Josephs voices pours in. 

“Oh no, you didn't play by the rules. I said not to do anything, i saw you though, telling them things through the camera. Now since you broke my rules, im giving you one hour to find her, before i make this dumb mute scream.” 

~~~

Your POV

Blood rushing in your ears makes everything sound muffled, as your captor pulls a hunting knife out of his pocket. “You know, I said I’d give them an hour to find you, but I think we can have some fun beforehand, right?” His grimy hand slides across your cheek down your lip. 

“I’m gonna have so much fun.” He smiles, trailing the knife up your chest, cutting the fabric of your shirt. He trails the knife down the top drawing a thin line of blood as he increases the pressure, cutting into the skin by your collarbones. 

Hot pain sears through you, and bile rises in your throat as he gets closer. Your head is pounding, as he continues dragging the blade across your skin. Almost like he’s painting a sick and twisted picture with his knife. Tears have soaked the front of your shirt, stinging the wounds that decorated your chest. 

“C’mon it’s no fun if you don’t scream!” He seethes, just as he raises his knife and slams it into your thigh, right down to the plastic handle. It takes everything in you not to scream. To resist, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt. It’s hard to breathe as the pain lingers, gripping you with icy hands. He rips the blade out of your leg, and blood starts to pour out of the wound. Soaking through your jeans and dripping onto the floor. You vision goes fuzzy around the edges after a few moments, only to be brought right back as he proceeds to do it again. Higher up this time, closer to your femoral artery. A cold sweat breaks out over your body, the room tilts slightly, and your head falls forward, black spots dancing across your vision. 

Out of the corner of your eye you catch a small movement, a glimpse of dark blue against the nearly black shadows of the warehouse. After a moment you see it again, as your captor picks up the knife again, holding it in his hands, staring at you for a moment before moving towards you again. 

“FBI DROP YOUR WEAPON!” Morgan’s loud voice echoes across the building. He emerges from behind a pallet, followed by the rest of the team, sans JJ who appears seemingly out of nowhere, with her gun aimed at his head. 

“It’s over Joseph,” Spencer’s voice causes your head to groggily turn towards him. A small whine-like sound escapes, startling Joseph and he drops the knife. As it hits the ground JJ reaches forward grabbing his arms and dragging him to the ground Morgan rushing over to help restrain him.

“Spencer…. Help me.” Your chest heaves as you watch him slide to his knees in front of you. His long fingers press against your jeans staunching the flow of blood from the wounds. 

“I got you, you’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be fine.” He tells you, resting his forehead against yours as tears flow freely down his cheeks. You can faintly hear Emily calling for an ambulance, as the world fades away.

~~~

2 months later

“Y/n! Oh look at you! Those shoes are ADORABLE!!!” Garcia's cheery voice startles you slightly as Spencer reaches down helping you out of the car. You were attending a party at Rossi’s, the first one after you were released from the hospital after the incident. 

Glancing down you take in the low heeled strappy shoes you were wearing. They were the only somewhat fancy shoes you could walk in, you were still going to physical therapy 3 times a week to strengthen your leg. Joseph’s knife had done some serious damage to the nerves and muscles. The emerald green dress you were wearing fell to just below your knees, hiding the compression brace on your thigh. 

“Thank you,” You smiled, and Garcia stopped, tears springing to her eyes. 

“You know the shoes are great, but hearing your voice just made my entire week. I thought you were never going to talk to us again.” She cried, grabbing you and pulling you close. You had spent almost a full month non verbal, not even talking to Spencer. But after spending a few weeks in a psychiatric care facility you had made amazing progress. You still had your bad moments, but you had been practicing with Spencer all the time, talking to him, working on not letting the overwhelming panic take over. 

“You’re doing amazing sweetheart,” Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist after Penelope let go. You both made your way into Rossi’s house, it was decked out in string lights and soft white and gold decor. 

After a few minutes of saying hello, and people getting over the fact that you were walking, and talking again. You leaned over towards Morgan, raising your champagne flute to your mouth, “what are we celebrating?” 

Morgan glanced down at you, a playful smile on his face. “You’ll see,” he said with a suspicious twinkle in his brown eyes. The music changed to a soft slow song and Spencer appeared next to you, his hand on your elbow. 

“Care to dance?” He smiled.

With a nod you allowed him to take your champagne flute, and set it on the bar top. Pulling you onto the dance floor in the middle of Rossi’s, Spencer rested his hands on your hips, swaying softly. The song came to an end, and the next one started.

JJ came over, “Can we take a picture?” She asked, holding up a camera. You leaned into her side and smiled wide. 

“Great thanks!” She gushed, taking a few steps back towards Will. You turned around and were momentarily confused. Spencer was just behind you. Then a small movement in your peripheral made you look down. You hands immediately covering your face, Spencer was down on one knee. A beautiful 3 carat round diamond ring with two smaller marquise cut diamonds on the side sat in a red velvet box. 

“Y/n, we have been through hell and back, especially this past year: but there is no one I would’ve wanted to go through it with other than you. You have shown me a new perspective on life. You taught me to appreciate the little things, and not take things f

or granted. I know I’m not the one who usually struggles to put things into words. But I don’t think any words could ever describe how much I love you. So would you do me the honor, and marry me?” Spencer’s eyes were glassy with tears as he looked up at you. 

“Yes, a million times yes.” You nodded, a smile breaking out over Spencer face as he stood sliding the ring onto your finger and kissing you deeply. 

Maybe talking wasn’t always such a bad thing. 

[gunilslaugh]

Always There

Goo Gunil

Summary: After you save Gunil from failing a presentation for his class he realizes that you have always been there for him. (non-idol au)

WC:~2.9k

Warning:some cursing 

photo not mine credits to owner.

Your friend group was quite the posse to say the least. First you had Gunil, an architecture major. He was an upbeat guy who knew how to be serious when needed. Had an interesting laugh and even more interesting dance skills. Next Jungsu, a struggling psychology major, but not because of his classes. It is because of business major Jiseok and music major Jooyeon. Who Jungsu believes should have taken more time consuming classes to keep them out of trouble. Jiseok and Jooyeon preferred the enjoy college life path rather than the stay in your room living off of instant ramen path. Then there is Hyeongjun, a film production major. He definitely preferred to be behind the camera rather than in front of it. Finally there’s Seungmin, a literature major. He helped Jungsu in keeping an eye on Jiseok and Jooyeon’s shenanigans and liked having quiet work sessions with Hyeongjun. Of course there is you too, a photography major, who loves to capture candid moments of your friends lives. 

Now how exactly did this mix of non matching majors become a friend group? You first met Gunil and Jungsu back in high school because the two of theirs hangout spot just happened to be right in front of your locker. You didn’t meet Jiseok and Jooyeon until freshman year of college. Jiseok happened to sit next to you in the math class both of you had to take. Where you found out that he only decided to major in business because he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life. You made a joke about how he could run your photography business for you. Your friendship sparked from there and he introduced you to his other friend Jooyeon. You later introduced the two of them to Jungsu and Gunil. You ran into Hyeongjun in a makeshift studio your campus had. He was having some trouble with his camera and you, being a photography student, happen to know a thing or two about cameras, so you were happy to lend him a hand. You helped him with the project he was doing and that was that. You now claimed the cute quiet film producer to be as your friend. Seungmin had also claimed Hyeongjun as a friend. You met him when he joined you and Hyeongjun in the library studying. Then Hyeongjun introduced you to each other. Soon enough Hyeongjun and Seungmin had met the rest of your friends and now you were all one big slightly dysfunctional group.

“We’re free!” you and Jiseok cheered once you exited your midterm. 

“Hate to break it to you guys, but you still have another semester left.” Gunil states coming up behind the two of you. 

“Don’t rain on our parade man. You know we barely survived this semester,” Jiseok says. 

“Sorry.” Gunil held his hands up in defense. “I’m proud of you both,” he exchanged. 

“Thanks,” you half smiled. “Hyeongjunie should be out of his midterm soon, let's go meet him,” you voiced. 

“You treat Hyeongjun like a princess. You walk him to class even when it’s out of your way and you pick him up from class too,” Jiseok teases. 

“Are you jealous that I never picked you up from class?” you poked, beginning to walk in the direction of Hyeongjun’s class. 

“Yes.” Jiseok became serious. “The only time you walk me to a class is when we have the same one. You’ve never picked me up. Why?” Jiseok asked.

“It’s ok Jiseok. Y/n doesn’t walk or pick me up from class either,” Gunil spoke. 

“That’s not true!” you refuted.  Your footsteps came to a halt as you turned to look at Gunil with an offended expression. Granted you hadn’t walked him to class or picked him up from class in a very long time, but that wasn’t your fault. It was his girlfreind’s. She told you that she didn’t like how close you were with Gunil. That she knows you two are only friends and have been for a long time. That’s she’s sorry, but she thinks walking him to class when yours isn’t close by or waiting outside of a class form was “too much”. It wasn’t a thing friends should do so often. To be frank you never really cared for Gunil’s girlfriend even before her comment about you being “too close” to him. There was just always something off about her. You couldn’t figure out what, but there definitely was something. Nonetheless you knew how much Gunil cared for her, so you pulled away from him a bit. To not cause any issues between him and his beloved. 

“I can’t remember a single time you walked me to class this year,” Gunil said. That’s because you haven’t. Since he got together with his girlfriend near the end of last year. 

“Ok I admit. I haven’t walked you to class this year, but”– you raised a finger– “I did it a lot last year. After every presentation you had I would take you out to eat afterwards, remember?” you brought up.

“Oh that’s right. How come you stopped?” Gunil questions. Because his girlfriend, however you can’t tell him that. 

“I’m busy,” you dismiss, starting to walk again. 

“Yeah, with Hyeongjun,” Jiseok says, catching up with you. 

“Look I’ll walk you to class and pick you up sometimes starting next semester. How’s that?” you asked.

“You said it!” Jiseok points at you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Finally we’re done with midterms,” Seungmin states, falling into the booth. The group of you were currently out having dinner together.

“Not me,” Gunil pouted, leaning his head on his girlfriend’s shoulder. 

“That’s right you still have two more,” you say. 

“Yep. They’re back to back too. Which means I have to take my model to the first exam which I don’t really want to do,” Gunil complains. 

“I could pick it up and bring it to you,” he girlfriend offered sweetly. A bitter look crosses your face. Her sweetness seems fake to you.

“Are you sure?” Gunil check. 

“Of course,” she smiled. 

“Thanks, you’re the best.” Gunil kissed her cheek. You almost rolled your eyes when she acted shy about it. If it wasn’t for your saving grace Hyeongjun coughing to gain your attention you would have. 

“So do you guys have plans for after midterms?” Jungsu asks. 

“I’m hanging out with my dad this Friday,” you said happily. Your dad had a job that often kept him away from home for long periods of time, so it was rare for you to spend time with him. 

“Oh that’s great! How long has it been since you saw him?” Jooyeon questioned. 

“Three months,” you answered. 

“What are you gonna do?” Hyeongjun asked from where he sat beside you. 

“We’re going to go hiking to take pictures. There’s supposed to be this trail with gorgeous views,” you tell him. 

“That sounds really nice. Have fun,” he told you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the day you were spending with your dad. It was also the day of Gunil’s last midterms, so before you headed out with your dad you sent Gunil a quick “good luck” text. 

“Are you ready to go?” your dad asked you after he finished loading your camera equipment into the car. Your dad was actually the one who got you interested in photography. Now it’s a fun activity for you both to do together. 

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you told him. Your dad hopped into the car and you two headed off to spend the day together. 

The two of you arrived at the trail still early enough in the morning it was only eight. The trail itself wasn’t that long either, so you and your dad took your time. It was really bonding to just walk with your dad, talking, taking pictures, joking about if the camera equipment got heavier when you needed to take a break. The shots you took came out really well too, so well that you planned on adding them to your portfolio. The trail held up to its description of having beautiful views. By the time you made it back to your car you were famished, so you drove to the closest restaurant. 

You were enjoying your meal with your dad when, “Babe stop!” You heard a familiar voice. An all too familiar annoying voice. A voice that made you twitch. You turned over your shoulder and spotted her, Gunil’s girlfriend. Looking just in time to see her pecking a guy, who is not Gunil, lips. 

“That cheating bitch,” you muttered. 

“Y/n language,” your dad said. Then it hit you. 

“Gunil,” you say out loud in a panic.

“What about Gunil?” your dad questioned. 

“Gunil has a midterm today for his architecture class and that, excuse my language, cheating bitch of his girlfriend is supposed to bring him his model, but she’s here and Gunil’s midterm,” You stopped to check the time. “Is in fifteen minutes!” Your eyes widen. 

“We gotta go!” Your dad popped up from his seat. 

“Wait just a sec.” You opened your camera on your phone and snapped some pictures as evidence. 

Your dad might have been bending a few traffic safety laws to get you to Gunil’s place in time. The bending of the laws was going well until you hit construction that caused a massive traffic back up. Time was ticking away and you had no time to waste. 

“Dad we’re not far from his place I jumped here,” you tell. Your dad doesn’t really like the idea, but he knows you’ll get out whether he tells you yes or no. 

“Be careful, I’ll meet you at the school alright?” You nodded and quickly got out of the car. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you. Running into Gunil’s place, grabbing his model and dashing as quickly as you could to campus all seemed like a blur. Your lungs burned as you ran up the stairs whilst trying to not shake Gunil’s model too much. 

“Gunil!” you called once you saw in with the other architecture students waiting in a hallway.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” 

“I’m not too late right?” you asked, panting heavily. 

“No, I haven't been called yet.” Gunil takes in your disheveled appearance. 

“What are you the one dropping this off? You’re supposed to be with your dad and you look like you ran ten miles.” You shouldn’t tell him that you're dropping off his model because his girlfriend is too busy being a cheater right before his important presentation.

“Gunil you’re up,” his name was called. 

“I’ll explain everything later, I promise. Now go make me running the fastest I ever ran in my life worth it,” You ushered him away. You then proceeded to very tiredly make your way back to the front of your campus where you would wait for your dad to pick you up. 

“Did you make it in time?” your dad asked when you got into the car. 

“Yeah, just in time,” you told him. 

“That’s good. You ran so fast I thought I pushed you down the wrong career path. You looked like a track star,” your dad joked. You laughed. 

“No, photography was definitely the right way. If I ever have to run again it will be too soon,” you remark. Now your dad laughs. 

“I’m sorry for running our day together,” you apologize. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” your dad says sincerely. “I’m the one who started to rush out of the restaurant first.”

“That’s true. I guess you care about Gunil more than I do,” you played. 

“Well he’s your first love, so I figured I should throw in a bone,” your dad says. 

“Shouldn’t that make you want to kill him?” you joked. 

“At first,” your dad stated. “But you are too cowardly to tell him how you feel so…” 

“Well I can’t exactly tell him I’ve liked him since senior year of high school when he has a girlfriend,” you rebuttal. 

“Not for much longer,” your dad said. 

“Too soon dad.” You sighed. “How am I supposed to tell him?” Your head dropped into your hands. 

“You say.” Your dad clears his throat. “I knew I didn’t like that bitch for a reason. It’s because she’s a cheating bitch and she doesn’t deserve you like I do,” your dad said sassily. 

“I can not do that,” you say. 

“You’re right you shouldn’t do that. You just sit him down and tell him honestly. He needs to know.” 

“I know he does. I told him I’d explain later.”

“You got it.” Your dad pats your shoulder. 

You don’t think you got it. You’re currently sitting on Gunil’s couch, bouncing your leg anxiously. 

“Why’d you drop off my model?” There it was the gut wrenching question. You took a breath. 

“I need to tell you something,” you gripped your knee. 

“What is it?” he asked. You pulled out your phone and pulled up the pictures you took of Gunil’s girlfriend cheating on him.

“You know I was out with my dad today.” Gunil nods. “After hiking we stopped at a restaurant to eat and I saw this.” You showed him your phone. You watch Gunil’s expression fall as he looks at the pictures. “I’m really sorry Gunil. She’s cheating on you,” you say solemnly.

“Are you sure? He could just be a friend,” Gunil said in denial. You shook your head. 

“I saw her kiss him,” you informed. Gunil sniffs. “I should have beat her or something, but all I could think about was your midterm, so my dad and I rushed out of the restaurant, broke some traffic laws and I had to run like two miles on foot because of construction which is why I was such a mess when I arrived with your model,” you told him the rest of the story. 

“Thank you,” Gunil sobbed. You hugged him, unable to stand his heartbroken state. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about a week since Gunil broke up with his girlfriend. You’ve been picking him up everyday after his last class since then. 

“You know you don’t have to walk me everyday. I’m ok y/n,” he says. 

“I know that. I’m just making for lost time,” you tell him. 

“I’m sorry,” Gunil suddenly states. 

“What?” you asked confused. 

“You never liked her, but you still did things to protect my relationship with her. It must’ve been hard for you,” he explained. 

“You really liked her, so as long as you were happy. I could deal with it. You know I always got you,” you smiled. You always got him. Your words clicked something inside of him. He thinks back and realizes that you have always been there for him. In high school when you would let him use your locker and somehow always had a spare pencil when he needed one. The hours you spent helping him with his architecture projects even though you got nothing out of it. How you were always there for him when he had a bad day or a day that deserved celebrating. You jumped out a car into traffic and ran two maybe more miles to get his model for him, so he wouldn’t fail his midterm and the semester. You let his tears stain your shirt on multiple occasions. Most recently being over his breakup. You were always there for him ever since you met. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, you’re always there for me,” Gunil smiles. 

Ever since his realization about how much you’re there for him Gunil couldn’t stop thinking about you. About everything you did/done for him too. It seems like more and more instances kept popping into his head. He feels stupid for how he never truly noticed before. 

“Hyeongjunie~” you sang in a sing-song voice as Hyeongjun sat down beside the rest of you. Gunil feels a little ping in his heart. “Here, it’s your favorite,” you said as you shared a piece of your food with him. 

“Thanks.” He takes the food from you. Ping, Gunil felt it again. He’s not stupid enough to not know what this feeling is. It’s jealousy. He feels jealous over the way you're acting with Hyeongjun. 

“Y/n can you help me with one of my projects later today?” Gunil questioned you, pulling your attention away from Hyeongjun. 

“Yeah sure,” you agreed. 

Later that day you arrived at Gunil’s place and walked into his living room only to see that there was no project layed out.

“Have you not even started yet or?” you asked perplexed. 

“I have something else to tell you,” he motions for you to sit down on the couch. You took a seat and looked at him expectantly. 

“You’ve always been there for me,” he starts. 

“I’ve told you I always got you,” you chuckled. 

“I know and I want you to always have me. I want you to always be with me,” he says. 

“I will,” you said. Gunil grabs your hands. 

“No, I mean. I want to be with you and I want you to be with me,” you emphasized. 

“Are you saying?” Your heart picked up.

“I like you y/n. I want to always be there for you like you are for me,” he confesses. You smiled. 

“I like you too,” you confessed. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah since our last year of high school,” you admit.

“Wait what!” Gunil’s eyes widened in shock. 

“Oh, would you look at the time? I should get going,” you stood up. You clearly had some more explaining to do and as your freshly turned boyfriend, Gunil couldn’t wait to hear it. 

Taglist: @purplelady85 @odesonnets @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Hunting Trip

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 18, Jazz tries to give Danny some space, and somehow ends up going ghost hunting with her parents.

...

Jazz, for her part, does not know what to do when she’s not helping her brother.

Clearly Danny doesn’t want anything to do with her right now.  And Jazz thinks she might need some time to calm the ache in her chest.

But taking some time apart from Danny leaves her feeling kind of aimless.  Apart from him, she doesn’t have anyone who wants to spend time with her— unless you count boys drooling over her, which she most certainly doesn’t.  Before Danny and his secret, she spent most of her time doing schoolwork, studying psychology, and preparing for college.

And sure, she spends a lot of her time nowadays studying ghost psychology, but she only has so much to go off of.  Wading through all of her parents’ bad science first takes a little bit of time, but in the end it still leaves her with more free time than she’s used to.  Time she doesn’t know what to do with.  She finds herself rereading her old human psychology textbooks a lot, and searching for new papers of interest in the field.  And while they’re definitely intriguing, it feels pointless when there’s a far more interesting, far more crucial form of study she could be doing with her time.

And when she’s no longer doing anything involved with helping Danny.

Her parents, however, seem to have missed the memo.

“Jasmine, sweetie, where are you going?”

Jazz turns to look at her mother, raising an eyebrow.  “School?”

“You’re not going to drive Danny?”

Jazz winces, but letting their parents know they’re fighting is probably a bad idea, because then they’re more likely to ask what they’re fighting about.  So instead, Jazz waits until Danny wanders down the stairs a full fifteen minutes later, and looks surprised that she’s still there.

The drive to school is silent and awkward.  Danny spends the whole time looking out the window, and Jazz hyperfocuses on the road.  As soon as they arrive at school, Danny climbs quickly out of the car and all but runs off.

Jazz parks the car and sighs, leaning back against the seat.  She doesn’t love knowing she has another trip just like that to look forward to this afternoon.

For now, however, she’s off to AP Psych, which is sure to bring a boost to her mood that she’s definitely going to need to make it through the day.

She makes it to class early and slides into her usual seat, front row, middle aisle.  She has all of her supplies set out and ready by the time the warning bell rings, and she looks with interest up at the front as their teacher begins talking.

…And assigns a group project.

Jazz gives a long internal sigh.  She can’t think of many things she dislikes more than a group project.  She works better when she can work at her own pace and expect the workload.  In group projects, she almost inevitably has to do all of the work, which is fine except for all of the ways it’s not.

Sure enough, all of the slackers start turning to her immediately, trying to get her attention.  Jazz ignores every last one of them and waits until all of the other pairs have narrowed themselves down.  Finally, the last set gets paired off, leaving Jazz with a girl whose name she doesn’t know.  They set up a decent plan throughout the rest of the class period, and the girl stands up as the bell rings.

“Do you want to meet in the library later to get started?” Jazz asks.  “We don’t have to do everything today, but we don’t have too long to do it, we should probably do something.”

“Huh?  Oh sure, I’ll meet you there during lunch.”

Jazz nods and picks up her own things, then heads to her next class.

The girl does not show up during lunch.  Jazz sighs when she arrives, and heads to her usual table, the one closest to the window.  She hadn’t really been expecting her to, so she pulls out her psychology notebook and starts writing down a couple ideas for their presentation.  They can compare notes in class tomorrow.

She puts her notebook back in her bag as she finishes and turns to her lunch, trying not to feel disappointed that the girl didn’t show up.  Jazz doesn’t even know her name, but it’s a little harder than usual to shake off the sting of eating here alone when this time she had even a little bit of a reason to expect someone else to show up.

Thankfully, lunch ends not long after she finishes eating, so she can head out with a wave and smile to the school librarian towards her next class.

Part of the way down the hallway, Jazz spots Danny walking with Sam and Tucker.  His head is ducked down with his gaze on the floor, and he’s clearly trying to block out Sam’s loud voice.  Jazz can pretty easily assume what she’s talking about.  Tucker, walking in between her and Danny, isn’t looking at Sam either, and isn’t saying anything, though every now and then he casts a glance at Danny.  Jazz thinks, not for the first time, about smacking the two of their heads together.

And then the three of them walk past her and she grips her books tighter, trying to put it out of her mind.

She manages to keep her focus on her schoolwork for most of the next class period, at least until the ghost alarm goes off.  Everyone stands and starts for the football field, and Jazz immediately goes for her bag, which she keeps her thermos in.  Just because things are tense between her and Danny right now doesn’t mean she’s not going to watch his back when she can.

Sure enough, she spots him as soon as she gets outside, chasing something pretty quickly away from the school.  She probably won’t catch up before the fight’s over at the speed he’s going, but that doesn’t stop her stomach from curling up.  It doesn’t help when, a second later, she sees the Red Huntress— Valerie, and her two new sidekicks chasing after Danny.

Jazz squeezes her eyes shut and follows the crowd of students to the football field.  Danny can handle himself.  He can.  He’s fully capable of dealing with whoever’s shown up.

She’s proven right when she sees Danny again in the hallway on the way to her last class of the day.  This time he’s with Valerie, and Jazz can tell he’s tense.  She thinks, not for the first time, about smacking his head until he gets some sense back into it.

Danny’s waiting quietly by her car when Jazz walks out of the school.  And because it feels weird to not say anything when she knows Danny was in a battle earlier, she says, “Who showed up during 5th period?”

“Just Cujo,” Danny mutters as he climbs into the car.  “I lost him when Huntress and her sidekicks showed up.”

“You mean Valerie.”

“Jazz.”

Jazz backs out of the parking spot.  She can tell Danny’s had a worse day than her, so she doesn’t push.

That, unfortunately, means they ride back in silence again.  Jazz tries to come up with something to say the whole time.  If Mom and Dad are going to keep making them drive to school together, she should probably find some way to fill the space.  Finally, when they get home she parks the car outside the house and turns to face Danny.

“You know I’m just worried about you, right?” she asks.

“I don’t need this right now, Jazz,” Danny says, and moves to open the door.

“Danny, seriously,” Jazz says.  She reaches out and puts her hand on his shoulder, only for Danny to wince badly and pull away.

Jazz’s eyes widen.  “Danny, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Danny snaps, turning back around and opening the door.  “Huntress got a lucky shot.”

Jazz looks up in exasperation, and shoves her instinctual comment down.  It would not go over well.  Instead, she says, “Do you need help with it?”

“No,” Danny says with a glare, before turning and storming up the steps.

Before he can make it up to his room, however, the door to the lab opens and Mom pokes her head out.

“Oh good, you’re home,” she says with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room.  “Could you two do the dishes?  Your father and I are falling behind on work and haven’t had a chance to get to them today.”

Danny clearly wants to do anything else, but comes back down the stairs anyway, keeping his bag on as he heads into the kitchen and setting it on the table.  Jazz follows and does the same, though she keeps her distance from Danny and starts instead with putting away the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Thank you!” Mom calls, turning to head back down into the lab.

Jazz sighs.  She spares half a glance at Danny and finds him with his gaze turned firmly down towards the sink.

Awkwardly doing dishes together in silence it is, then.

The kitchen is big enough that they can both avoid each other with only a little difficulty, Jazz focusing on putting clean dishes away and Danny putting new ones in the washing machine.  All in all, it doesn’t take them terribly long, and before long Danny’s starting the dishwasher and Jazz is turning to go start on homework.

Before she can, however, footsteps appear on the stairs and Mom once again walks into the kitchen.

“Hey kids, when you finish— oh good, you’re done.  Could you come down into the lab and take the trash out?”

Jazz gives a long internal sigh, and Danny looks up for a moment at the ceiling, but both of them start towards the steps.  Danny steps in front of Jazz and leads the way down the steps.  He tends to tell Jazz he’ll handle this chore, as the one less likely to be affected if there’s anything still radioactive in the trash.

Jazz makes it down the steps just after Danny does, and he starts over for the trash.  Jazz looks up at their parents to find them both hard at work on something on one of the tables.

“Thanks sweetie,” Mom calls with a smile at Danny.  Danny gives a vague nod of acknowledgment and grabs the bag out of the trash can.  Jazz steps aside at the base of the steps to let him up, but before he can get very far Mom stops and turns to face them both.

“Oh, and when you’re done with that—”

“Oh my god, are you blind?” Danny snaps, whirling to face her.  “We don’t want to be around each other!”

“Danny!” Mom says, putting her hands on her hips.  “Excuse me, young man?  Do you want to try phrasing that differently?”

Danny groans and doesn’t reply, just turns and stomps up the stairs, which is probably not the best idea if he wants Mom to leave them alone.

“Danny, come back here and speak to your mother,” Dad says, turning around when Danny doesn’t come back down.  But Danny just slams the door to the lab.

“Danny!” Mom starts, moving towards the steps.

Jazz shoves herself in front of them before she can get there.

“Please just let him go,” she says, holding her hands up.  “He’s had a really bad day.”

“What did he mean by you two don’t want to be around each other?” Mom asks, crossing her arms and giving Jazz a curious look.  “Did you two have a fight?”

“Wow, thanks for noticing,” Jazz mutters despite herself, then she catches her breath.

“It’s fine,” she amends, turning back to Mom and Dad, who are now looking at her with much more apt attention.  “We’ll work it out.  Danny’s just… had a really bad time lately.  Could you just cut him a break, please?  I’ll do whatever needs to get done.”

Mom and Dad exchange a glance.

“Jazz, sweetie,” Mom says, turning back to face her.  “Do you want us to help you talk things out?”

“No,” Jazz says immediately.  “We’re fine, we’ve got it.  Danny just needs some time.”

“We could talk to him,” Mom says, looking up the stairs after him.

“I don’t think that would help, Mom,” Jazz says, before wincing at the hurt look on her face.

“He’s a teenage boy,” she rushes to explain.  “The last thing he wants is to talk to his parents about his feelings.  I really think he just needs some space.”

“I think Jazz might be right, Mads,” Dad says, putting a hand on his shoulder.  “We don’t want to make things worse by going after him when he doesn’t want to talk.”

Mom sighs, clearly dissatisfied.  “Oh, alright,” she says, and Jazz gives a quiet sigh of relief.  But then a second later Mom turns back to her and says, “Do you want to talk about it, sweetie?”

Jazz blinks at her.  “Me?”

But both of her parents are now looking at her expectantly, and Jazz doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Uh,” Jazz says.  “No?”

Both of her parents exchange another glance, one Jazz can’t read.

“Jazz, sweetheart,” Mom says.  “You just spent ten minutes explaining all about how you’ve had a fight because Danny’s had a hard time lately.”

“Yeah?” Jazz says, still not sure what they’re getting at.

“Princess, that doesn’t say anything about how you’re doing,” Dad says.

Jazz startles.  “Me?  Oh, I—” she laughs.  “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.  I’m not— I’m just saying Danny’s had a lot going on lately.”

Mom and Dad exchange another look.

“Really,” Jazz insists.  “I’m fine.”

They both look back at her for a second, and finally Mom nods.

“Okay sweetie,” she says.  She leans forward and kisses Jazz’s forehead.  “Just know we’re here if you want to talk.”

“Uh, sure,” Jazz says, backing up and heading back up the stairs.  “Anyway, I have homework.”

She shakes off the strange interaction as she heads up to her room.  At least she got Mom and Dad to leave Danny alone.

…

Jazz is woken the next morning by loud banging on her door.  She rubs her eyes and sits up, blinking over at the door, and yawns.  Normally her alarm wakes her up just fine, she can’t remember the last time someone had to wake her up.

“Hello?” she calls.

The door bangs open just a second later and Dad walks in with a bright grin on his face.

“Good morning, Princess!  You want to come ghost hunting with me and your mom today?”

Jazz blinks.  “What?  No.  I have school.  What?”

“Well lucky for you, your mom already called in for you!  I’m taking Danny to school in a bit, and then you get to spend the day with just us!”

Jazz blinks again.  “What?”

“We’ll see you downstairs in half an hour!” Dad calls, and turns and runs back out of the room.

Jazz looks after him for a couple seconds, and then her alarm goes off next to her on her nightstand.

When she considers it, it’s not the worst idea.  It’s not like her grades are going to plummet if she misses a day of school.  And if they’re ghost hunting while she’s trying to change their minds, it definitely gives her a fair bit of leverage.  There for sure will be plenty of examples to point to.

So, after a minute, she climbs out of bed and pulls her clothes on.  She grabs the spare thermos she keeps in her desk, and a regular notebook, not the one with her notes on ghost psychology.  She can remember anything she actually needs to write down later.

She makes it downstairs after Danny leaves by design, and finds Mom setting a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon down in front of her.

“Eat up,” she says with a smile.  “You’ll need energy to be fighting ghosts all day.”

Well, she’s far more used to fighting ghosts than Mom realizes, but that doesn’t mean a bigger breakfast than usual is a bad idea.  She finishes about the time Dad gets back, who eats another helping of pancakes himself before he and Mom both start towards the lab.

“Come on sweetie, you’ll need some weapons!” Mom calls up to her.  “We can’t rely entirely on the GAV.”

Jazz heads down the steps, already writing off the weapons in her head that do unnecessary damage.  She doesn’t want to hurt any of the ghosts too badly, especially if Danny shows up.

She ends up going with a small blaster in case a more dangerous ghost shows up, and the Fenton Foamer in the case of a less dangerous, but still unruly ghost.

Her parents, of course, go right for the dangerous weapons.  Jazz is going to have her work cut out for her.

Thankfully, no ghosts show up for at least a little bit as they start driving, which Mom is handling, so Dad isn’t turning to talk to her when he should be focusing on the road.

“So, Princess, I know this is all pretty new to you,” he says.  “But you don’t need to worry.  There isn’t a specter out there we can’t handle!”

“Sure Dad,” Jazz says.  “But uh, we don’t have to jump straight to fighting, do we?”

Dad laughs, loud and boisterous.  “Don’t be silly sweetheart, of course we do!”

“Your father’s right, hun,” Mom says, keeping her gaze on the road.  “We have to make sure no one gets hurt.”

“Well, what if there’s no one around?” Jazz asks.  “Wouldn’t we learn more from the ghost by talking to it for a bit?”

“We’d need to capture it first, sweetheart,” Mom says.  “They won’t stay still long enough otherwise.”

“I wonder why,” Jazz mutters, glancing at the weapons sitting next to her in the back seat.  She doesn’t say anything else, though.  She’s going to have to figure out the right way to talk to her parents about this while they’re clearly not in the mind space to listen.

If there’s a way to interact with the ghosts without them seeing her parents, maybe?  But she can’t think of a way to do that without her parents also not seeing her, which would defeat the purpose.  Maybe if she—

“Jazz?  Honey?”

Jazz glances up at Mom, who’s looking at her through the rear view mirror.  “Yeah?”

“We need to tell you something,” Mom says.  “We didn’t just bring you today so we could fight ghosts together.”

Jazz blinks.  “Huh?”

“Princess, when we talked last night you said you and Danny were having a fight,” Dad says.  “But you only talked about how Danny was doing.”

“So?” Jazz asks, not sure what they’re getting at.

Before they can answer, there’s a crash up ahead, and a ghost flies out of a building.  Jazz has just enough time to recognize the familiar blue of the Box Ghost before Mom swerves the car to the side of the road.

Dad reaches back and grabs a couple of weapons that are seriously overkill for the Box Ghost, and the two of them leap out of the car, with a call from Mom to stay back and stay safe.

Jazz rolls her eyes and grabs the thermos, then turns and looks behind her towards the back of the car.  It takes her a minute but she locates what she’s looking for— Dad’s recent shipment of supplies, still in box.  She dumps the supplies onto the ground, then climbs out of the side door with the box and the thermos.

The Box Ghost is monologuing threateningly at her parents, who are shooting blasts at him.

“Hey!” Jazz calls, and all three of them look over.  Jazz holds up the box.  “Catch!”

She throws it well over the Box Ghost’s head, and when he dives after it, fires up the thermos and sucks him in with little effort.

Both Mom and Dad stare at her for a second, but Jazz just turns and takes the thermos back to the car, Box Ghost now inside.

It takes a second for them both to come back, and when they do, they’re grinning.

“Princess, that was spectacular!” Dad says brightly.  “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“He’s called the Box Ghost,” Jazz says.  “I took an educated guess.”

“Well it was a good guess, sweetie,” Mom says, climbing back in the front seat.  “You get first catch of the day.”

“Like we’re fishing?” Jazz asks.

“Well, it means you get to pick the spot for lunch!” Dad says with a grin at her.  “But we don’t have to worry about that yet.”

“Anyway, we were talking,” Mom says as she starts the car up again, and the mood instantly sombers in a way that catches Jazz off guard.

“Jazz,” she says, stopping as she pulls up to a light.  She turns and glances back at her for just a second.  “Isn’t Danny fighting with you affecting you too?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant,” Jazz realizes.  She shakes her head.  “Danny’s got enough going on right now without me getting on his case about stuff like that.  He really just needs some space.”

“What other stuff does he have going on?” Dad asks, sounding confused, like he really hadn’t noticed anything.

“Nothing,” Jazz says, certain Danny wouldn’t want her to say anything about Sam and Tucker, or Valerie.  “I’m just not going to pile on.”

“Sweetie,” Mom says, even as she turns back around and the light turns green.  “That’s fine, and that’s very mature of you, but you wouldn’t be piling on if you were talking about it with someone else.”

“Like who?” Jazz says, turning to look out the window.

“Jazz, we’re trying to let you know that you can talk to us about things like this,” Mom says.  “We might even be able to help you resolve things.  It’s not like we’ve never dealt with you and your brother having a fight before.”

Jazz doesn’t say anything.  They’d dealt with her and her brother having fights about things when they were much younger.  And even then, it was things like who gets the last cookie, or who has to pick up the toys they both left out in the living room.  She doubts they’d know how to help with “I don’t want to tell Mom and Dad that I’m the ghost they want to rip apart” and “Danny you need to spend time with people who don’t absolutely hate you and everything about you.”

“It’s nothing you guys will be able to help with,” Jazz says, scooting more towards the window and keeping her gaze away from her parents.

“Well how do you know if you haven’t tried?” Dad asks.

“I just know,” Jazz says, scooting even further forward in an effort to show she wants them to drop it.

“Sweetie, I really think you should—”

“You’re still not listening to me!” Jazz exclaims, turning to face them both.  She holds back a glare as best she can.  “You don’t listen about this, you don’t ever listen about ghosts, and maybe the reason I don’t want to talk to you is because it won’t actually help anything!  Because you won’t actually listen to me when I do it!”

Her Dad stares at her, and she can feel her Mom wanting to too, and Jazz turns to look back out the window.

“Jazz,” Mom says after a second.  “We’re trying to listen right now.  Are you okay?”

Jazz sighs.  “I’m fine.”  She turns to face them again.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have snapped like that.  It’s just… it’s really difficult to talk to you guys sometimes.  It seems like you always have something else on your mind.”

She watches them both exchange a look, and after a second, Mom pulls over on the side of the road, next to the park.  Then they both turn to face her again.

“I’m really sorry we made you feel that way, Jazz,” Mom says, concern written on her face.

“I know we can get pretty busy, Princess,” Dad says, unbuckling so he can turn more comfortably.  “But if you need to talk to us, we’ll make the time for it.  What do you want to talk about?”

Jazz stares at them both for a moment, searching their faces.  They both seem sincere.  So she has managed to get through to them a little bit.  How best to use this chance?

“You guys…” she says slowly.  “I think you guys jump right into shooting at ghosts when it’s not always… necessary.”  She holds up the thermos.  “Like with the Box Ghost.  He’s actually shown up a couple times around school.  I don’t think anyone even really gets scared of him anymore.  And you automatically think all ghosts are malicious.”

“Well, Princess, they’re—” Dad starts.

“Are you listening or not?” Jazz says firmly, and Dad, after a moment, reluctantly stops.

“I don’t think they are,” she says.  “Plenty of ghosts just want to go about their business.”

“Like who?” Mom asks, still looking suspicious.

Jazz opens her mouth, when the perfect answer shows up right outside their door.  Dash is running through the park screaming, holding a chihuahua, and being chased by a giant Cujo.  Both of their parents reach for their weapons, but Jazz holds up a hand.

“Wait,” she says, opening the door.  “Just give me a second.”

She’s not surprised when Mom and Dad both grab for their weapons anyway, but she is surprised when, after getting out of the car, they let her run off after Cujo, and just follow close behind.

Jazz puts them out of her mind and calls out Cujo’s name.

He turns after a second, and recognizes her, but then turns again and barks after Dash and the chihuahua.

Dash runs behind a tree and peeks out, seeming to calm down a little bit when he notices three of the Fentons running towards him.

Jazz heads quickly over to the tree Dash is hiding behind, and spots the problem as soon as she gets there.  In the chihuahua’s mouth is Cujo’s chew toy.  Danny described it to her, as well as its importance.

“I need that,” Jazz says, pointing at the chew toy.

Dash, after a little struggle, takes it from the chihuahua.  “Here,” he says, his hand shaking a little as he hands it to Jazz.

Jazz heads back out from behind the tree and finds her parents off to the side, guns still pointed at Cujo, who does not seem happy about it.

“Cujo!” Jazz calls, and holds up the chew toy in Cujo’s line of sight.  “Hey, boy!”

Cujo, as soon as he spots the toy, starts panting happily, and by the time he runs over to Jazz he’s back to his normal size.

“Hey good boy,” Jazz coos, setting the chew toy down in front of him.  “Did that mean old chihuahua take your toy from you?  Did he?”

“Hey!” Dash calls off in the distance.

Cujo barks happily and picks up the toy, then shakes it back and forth in his mouth a couple times.  He drops it, licks Jazz’s hand in thanks, and then picks it up and runs off.

Jazz turns to face the tree Dash is behind again.  “Hey Dash,” she calls, and he pokes his head out.  “Maybe don’t steal the ghost dog’s chew toys.”

Dash gives a weak smile and a nod.

Then Jazz turns back to her parents, who are both gaping at her, guns dropped to their sides.

“So uh,” she says as she walks back over to them.  “I hope that kind of proves my point?”

Mom nods, still looking a little stunned.  “Okay Jazz,” she says.  “Maybe.”  She looks off in the direction Cujo ran in.  “But that ghost dog could have still seriously hurt someone.  And he’s still more dangerous than a normal dog.”

“Maybe,” Jazz agrees in turn.  “But shooting at him would have only made it worse.  And he was wronged first.  Dash’s dog stole his toy.”

Her parents exchange a look with each other.

“Jazz,” Mom says, turning back to face her.  “How much have you interacted with ghosts?”

Jazz winces.  “More than you guys realize,” she admits.  “Enough to have proof that they’re not inherently evil.”

“And you’re certain of that?” Dad asks.

Jazz nods.  “Positive.  Are there ghosts that cause trouble, or ghosts that are dangerous?  Sure.  But there are humans who are like that too.  And there are ghosts who aren’t.”

“We don’t see very many like that,” Mom points out.

“Yeah, because they all hang out back in the ghost zone and mind their own business.”

Neither of her parents seem to know what to say to that.

Before Jazz can say anything else, a figure streaks by overhead, and Jazz glances up in time to spot the familiar jumpsuit of her little brother.

Chasing after him are Valerie and her two new sidekicks.

“Back to the GAV!” Mom calls, and all three of them run for it, though Jazz has a different level of panic than she’s sure her parents both do.  Danny could always handle the three of them, sure, but that was before he realized the Red Huntress is Valerie.  And given the way Valerie got a lucky shot yesterday…

Sure enough, when her parents start chasing after the four of them and paying little attention to the road, she sees Danny just keep flying, and not throw a single hit back towards Valerie.  At one point, he takes a hit to the back that makes Jazz wince.

Unfortunately, she can’t help up there.  The best she can do is not make it worse.

So Jazz turns her attention to her parents, who are aiming directly at Danny and completely ignoring the fact that he’s not making any moves and is solely running for his life.

Jazz sees Dad go for the GAV weapons system, and tenses up.  But thankfully, since it’s Dad she can trust him to miss.

Which he does.

By accidentally aiming a shot right at Valerie.

A shot which Danny, idiot that he is, dives right in front of anyway.

He goes flying back into Valerie, and both of them then go flying into a building.

“Uh hey, maybe you guys should wait while there’s other people you could hit?” Jazz asks nervously.

“Maybe I should take over honey,” Mom says to Dad, and then she puts one hand on the wheel and one hand on the weapons.

Well, that doesn’t so much solve the problem as it does create a different one.  Mom has much better aim.

Jazz watches her mother for a second, then follows her aim towards Danny, who flies away from Valerie as well as her two sidekicks.

Thankfully, that makes things easier for Jazz, and she quietly unbuckles her seatbelt.  When Mom takes aim at Danny, Jazz jerks forward until she slams into her arm, pointing the gun straight up into the sky, and away from anyone who might get hit by it.

“Sorry,” she says, sitting back in her seat.  “Pothole!”

Thankfully, by the time Mom and Dad both get their bearings again, Danny is long gone, and so are Valerie and her sidekicks.  And though Jazz isn’t sure she can trust him enough to deal with the three of them without getting himself hurt again, there isn’t much she can do about that.

He probably won’t let her patch him up later either.

“Darn that Phantom!” Dad says, slamming his hand down on the dashboard.

“We’ll get him one of these days, hon,” Mom says, patting him on the shoulder as she pulls the GAV over to park on the side of the road.

Jazz considers it for a second, then shakes off the idea of saying anything on that particular subject.  She’s pushed her parents a lot today, and Danny is a subject that needs to be approached with a lot more care.

Instead, she lets her parents shake off the fight for a second, and then they turn back to her.

“Sorry for that interruption, sweetheart,” Mom says.  “It doesn’t mean we weren’t paying attention.  Phantom is just a ghost that requires immediate action.”

Jazz nods.  “Sure.”

“Princess, what we’ve really been trying to say through all of this is that we’re worried about you,” Dad says, turning once again to face her.

“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” Jazz says.  But neither of her parents look like they believe her.

“Jazz,” Mom says.  “Do you remember when Danny ran away?”

Jazz looks away.  How could she forget?  That time was a nightmare.  Mom and Dad had both been near frantic in trying to find Danny, sure he’d been captured by some ghost.  Sam and Tucker, as much as her feelings on them were mixed lately, had been constantly checking in for updates, and it was clear how scared for Danny they’d been.  And Jazz had been scouring the news for any mention of Phantom, and feeling something in her break every time she saw a news story of her brother doing things that were so unlike him.  While at the same time being unable to say anything to anyone, because she was the only one who had any idea what was really going on.

She never wants to go through anything like it ever again.

“What about it?” she says quietly to Mom.

“You didn’t talk to anyone all throughout that,” Mom says.  “And it seems like you’re doing the same thing with this fight with Danny.  We just don’t think it’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

Jazz closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  “I’m not going to tell you things Danny doesn’t want you to know,” she says plainly.  “And I don’t…” she opens her eyes again and sighs.

“I don’t have anyone else I can talk to,” she admits.  “It’s hard to make friends when everyone sees you as the Weird Fenton Girl, or the Weird Psychology Girl.  Just… let me handle the fight with Danny.  I can do it.  Okay?”

There’s a couple seconds of silence from the front seat.  Then, she sees Mom move out of the corner of her eye, and a second later she gives Jazz a kiss on the top of her head.

“I don’t like that you and Danny feel like you can’t talk to us,” she whispers.

Jazz pulls back slightly to look at both her parents.  “Permission to say something that could get me grounded?”

Mom raises an eyebrow, but Dad nods.  “Granted.”

“It’s not entirely unwarranted,” Jazz says quietly.

Mom narrows her eyes.  “What do you mean?”

Jazz shakes her head.  “Can’t tell you that.”

Mom sighs in frustration.  “Sweetie, you know that’s not exactly helpful, right?”

“Sorry,” Jazz says, but she doesn’t take it back.

“Okay,” Dad says, in a very somber tone for him.  “What can we do to help you feel like you can talk to us?”

“Listen better?” Jazz asks hesitantly.  “And… pay attention?”

Mom and Dad both exchange another look.  But finally, they turn back to her.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Mom says.  “We will.”

Jazz doesn’t quite know what to say in response to that.  So instead, she just quietly says “Thanks,” and rebuckles her seatbelt.

And after a long pause, Mom starts the car again and drives away.

…

Jazz isn’t expecting anything bigger than that to come out of the day.  That was pretty big all on its own, and she honestly might need a couple days to recover.

Unfortunately, her parents haven’t changed that much, and that night they show up at her room after dinner with a knock on her door, and Dad calling her name.

Jazz isn’t quite sure what they’re there for, but if she’s going to ask them to listen better, she should at least give them opportunities to.  So, she sets her homework aside and climbs up, then walks over and opens the door.

“Hi,” she says.  “What’s going on?”

“Well Jazz, your mother and I have talked it over, and we noticed the ways you knew how to handle those ghosts today,” Dad says with a bright grin.  “It was really something!”

“So, we were wondering if you might want to share any research you’ve done with us?” Mom asks.  “From a scientific interest, of course.  And you don’t have to.”

Despite that, Jazz can see how interested they both are.

Well, it’s a place to start, she supposes.

“It’s ghost psychology,” she warns.  “You know, buying into the ‘lunacy’ that they’re sentient and all that.”

Mom chuckles a little.  “Sounds about as crazy as the idea that ghosts exist in the first place, sweetie,” she says.  “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jazz starts to smile, and stands back to let her parents into her room.

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

masterlist of episodes featuring prof duncan? I only JUST made the connection that he's played by john oliver

fantastic idea anon. I’m honestly surprised I haven't made this list yet as I am an avid duncan enjoyer lmfao and yes john oliver is great. so I’ll make the list right now. here we go:

the feat. professor duncan episode masterlist

1x01: pilot

he is the reason jeff chose to enroll at greendale

he has multiple interactions with jeff throughout the episode

1x04: social psychology

annie, troy, and abed participate in his psychological experiment in which he proves the existence of "the duncan principle"

1x05: advanced criminal law

duncan, dean pelton, and chang create "greendale court" in order to put britta's alleged academic dishonesty on trial

1x25: pascal's triangle revisited

first shown doing a therapy session with britta

constantly fighting with chang, escalating into chang punching him at the end

does his iconic rap after he gets drunk at the transfer dance

2x03: the psychology of letting go

takes over as the anthropology professor despite knowing nothing about the subject

uses the restraining order he got against chang to torment him

has a few conversations with jeff about the inevitability of death

is civil with chang by the end of the episode

2x05: messianic myths and ancient peoples

exclusively shown "teaching" the anthropology 101 class

2x11: abed's uncontrollable christmas

leads abed's "therapy" session but is generally unhelpful

2x12: asian population studies

again, just shown "teaching" anthropology 101

2x15: early 21st century romanticism

watches the liverpool vs. manchester united football game with jeff at jeff's apartment

has conversations with jeff about friendship and greendale etc.

2x21: paradigms of human memory

appears very briefly in a flashback to the events of "abed's uncontrollable christmas"

2x22: applied anthropology and culinary arts

is shown again at the head of the anthropology class, this time "administering their final" (getting drunk) but disappears very quickly as soon as the dean walks in

5x03: basic intergluteal numismatics

"helps" with the psychological aspect of the ass crack bandit investigation

(you might notice he is not in seasons 3 or 4. irl it's because he got too busy with his other projects, but in the show his character explains that he was "taking care of his sick mother")

5x05: geothermal escapism

shown briefly playing the floor is lava game, but loses very quickly after jeff knocks over the chair that he was going to jump on while chasing britta

5x06: analysis of cork-based networking

shown as a member of the save greendale committee

helps jeff, shirley, and chang choose a theme and decorate for the dance (bear down for midterms)

5x07: bondage and beta male sexuality

asks jeff to help him scheme a way into getting a date with britta, which ends up backfiring

ends up hanging out a lot with jeff. this episode re-establishes that the two of them have known each other longer than any of the other characters

5x11: g.i. jeff

appears briefly only in jeff's animated dream, as "xim xam"

(so, I guess it's not technically duncan, but it's jeff's g.i. joe dream version of duncan, so I’m counting it)

5x12: basic story

appears again as a member of the save greendale committee

5x13: basic sandwich

tries to help the save greendale committee uncover the hidden computer school but gets electrocuted lmfao

alright yep. that should be all. I personally went through the credits of every single episode to double check everything because I do not trust the lists that are already online tbh. full of discrepancies smh. also, yeah, he is indeed not in seasons 3, 4, or 6. anyway! hope this is helpful. duncan is hilarious and every single line that comes out of his mouth is comedy gold. bye