#ok but how am i gonna do my homework this semester..? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvknow · 5 years

Text

parasitic | bang chan

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | college au ; roommates au ; enemies-to-lovers ; alcohol mention summary: your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well. wc: 11.8k a/n: omg a month late, but merry christmas to @channiechanchan!! did you know it was me?? LMAO I’M SO SORRY LKJDSLKFJ IT’S ALSO NOT EVEN XMAS RELATED BUT....... I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT, ILY SLKJDSL

The sun rays peeked through the gaps of the curtains letting you know that a beautiful Sunday was upon you. You would spend the morning making breakfast for you and your roommate, clean your room of all the bad vibes, knock out some homework, and light an overpriced candle to conclude a stress-free day.

A long morning stretch in bed was the start to your day, and you had the widest smile on your lips upon exiting your room as if there was nothing that could ruin your energy. That dropped quickly once you were greeted with a loud, snoring, almost-naked man face down and passed out on your couch.

“Sorry about him,” roomie Yeri said out of habit while practically crawling out of her room. “Again.”

She looked like a hot mess, with her hair frazzled in all directions and last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. Her timing was impeccable - it was like she could sense your annoyance through her walls.

“Why?” you whined childishly. This had to be the tenth weekend by now!

“You know why! Lucas had his birthday party last night, remember? Which you were invited to but totally flaked last minute.”

“I have an exam this week.”

“We have an exam this week and it’s not until Thursday!”

“So? I like to be prepared!”

“Can you two shut up?” the bane of your existence interrupted. The newly brunette (who had dyed his hair in your living room, thanks to Yeri) ran a hand through his wild hair, hoping it’d alleviate some of the pain from his hangover. “I have a pounding headache.”

“And whose fault is that?” you scolded bitterly before yanking your blanket off of him. The poor man below you shriveled up and buried his musty legs under your beautiful couch pillows for some sense of warmth. “Not like you pay rent here for you to have the right to complain, or anything.”

“Lighten up, buttercup. You’re so uptight.”

“Gotta do my job around here and exterminate the parasites.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Too many STDs.”

Yeri chucked a pillow each at the both of you so you’d shut up and avoid waking up any grumpy neighbors. “Please, for the love of God, can you guys chill out for once so we can have a relaxing Sunday together?”

“Together?” you and Chan groaned simultaneously.

Yeri was not having it and shot a glare like an angry mother, to which you and Chan mumbled some sort of noise of confirmation and went about your separate ways. You inhabited the kitchen and Chan dragged himself to wash away the sticky shame and Hennessey in the shower. Yeri hopped over to help you make pancakes as if her two best friends weren’t just itching to pull each other’s hair out. She liked to think of herself as the glue of the group, like the quirky friend in the middle who was delusion to the tension in between. Neither of you had the heart to ruin her sitcom fantasy.

“Morning ~” she sang cutely.

“I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad!”

“You’ve been saying that the entire fall semester, but almost every weekend of mine has been ruined by his presence!”

Yeri winced and took a step back as she watched you vigorously mix the pancake batter faster than an electronic stand mixer. Another step back was taken while you violently dumped in the blueberries. Cooking and baking was one of your favorite hobbies and she knew you could be quite passionate about it, but she never saw you angry-cook before. It was a scary site to see, as if you being angry wasn’t scary enough.

“He’s only the way he is because you never gave him a chance.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s the type of person who likes to be liked, you know?”

“So? Don’t we all?”

“Of course, but it’s different with people like him. When those types of people meet someone who doesn’t like them, they can get a little… How do I say this? Defense mechanism-y?”

“Wouldn’t you think that would motivate him to, I don’t know, be nice to me and not inhabit my space and eat my food every weekend? Perhaps he’d kiss my ass a little?”

“Like I said, defense mechanism-y…”

“More like melodramatic.”

No matter how Yeri tried to explain to you how Chan was ‘different’, you weren’t buying it nor did you care to argue any longer. Why should you have to like him just because he was your best friend’s other best friend? This wasn’t some algebra problem that could be easily solved by the transitive property - this was a matter of respecting each others’ personal spaces and each other in general, and Chan had been the one to cross both of those lines first, that dick. While Yeri lectured like your math professor, you mindlessly hummed here and there pretending to understand, just as you would in actual math class.

The bathroom door opening prompted you and Yeri to shut up immediately. Then, a moist Chan walked out of the steam with nothing but a familiar lavender towel wrapped around his disgustingly chiseled waist.

“Is that my towel!?” you shrieked in fear.

“Yeah. Hope that’s ok with you!” The fake honey sweetness in his tone made your skin crawl like there were bees under the dermis. “By the way, you’re out of shampoo. I love this scent! What is it, tea tree and mint?”

Yeri had to hold you back from hitting him with a hot spatula and Chan managed to escape back into the bathroom with a change of clothes that he kept here ‘for emergencies’, of course. They hung on the open clothes rack in the living room that was meant to show off yours and Yeri’s tasteful jackets, but the aesthetic was ruined early fall and even your jackets began to smell of Chan’s sophisticated cologne.

“I’m gonna kill him in his sleep,” you seethed.

Yeri patted your head like you were an angry kitten. “Killing the captain of the basketball team isn’t exactly kosher, love.”

“I’ll show you kosher.”

“Can’t keep on threatening me, babe,” Chan tisked while throwing on a t-shirt upon entering the A and B conversation.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m just trying to make our friendship better. You know, since we’ll be roommates soon.”

Excuse me, what? “What are you talking about…”

“Oh, you don’t know?” a sly Chan smirked.

When you turned to interrogate Yeri, she quickly stopped the sign language that clearly meant ‘shut your GODDAMN MOUTH, Christopher’ and gave you that sweet, innocent smile that let her get away with practically anything because who could say no to her rosy cheeks and rainbow-shaped eyes?

“Yeri, what is he talking about…?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, about that… I got accepted into the study abroad program!”

“That’s amazing and I am very proud of you and I love you, but what does this cockroach mean when he says we’ll be roommates soon!?”

“Hey!” he pouted.

“Oh, shut it!”

“Ah, well, I figured to lessen the burden of paying double the rent, I thought it’d, you know, take it upon myself to save you the stress of finding a subletter and Chan was the only one available…”

“Really? Of the entire cheerleading team, the pottery club, the damn pilates and cycling club, hell even the other players on the basketball team, Chan was the only one free to sublet? The only one?”

“Um... yes?”

“You know, I don’t really consent to this -”

“Please, _____, it will only be for the semester, I promise! I leave next week and I can’t take much with me, and Chan is the only person I trust to stay in my room and not ruin anything and steal my underwear!”

“How can you say that when he’s probably going to bring girls home and do them on your bed!?”

“I would never do that!” Chan interjected.

“Yeah, ok.”

“No, really! Why would I ruin her bed when I can just ruin yours while you’re gone?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Christopher -!”

“See!” Yeri brought the two of you into a esophagus-crushing headlock so you two would shut up. “You two are already getting along so well!!”

Chan managed to slip away and steal you from Yeri, giving you a rough knuckle sandwich. “We’ll get along swimmingly, Yer-bear, I promise. Isn’t that right, _____?”

Yeri couldn’t help but look at you both with sparkly eyes, thinking that yes, maybe there’s a chance that a beautiful friendship could blossom from this! Jabbing an elbow to his ribs with a fake smile of your own, you wordless agree with a nod.

As long as Chan stayed in his room and you stayed in yours, maybe there wouldn’t be much to worry about, right?

The first week with Chan was exactly how you expected it - seeing his bare ass because he never closed the bathroom door, stealing your snacks, taking up the living room space, and blasting his loud soundcloud music that you could hear through your paper-thin walls. Still, even through all the frustration and the annoyance, you thought it would be best if you two just lived your lives separately and didn’t bother making nice with each other. Rather than fighting and yelling, ignoring each other for the sake of everyone’s sanity was for the best.

What pushed you to the edge was when he took the last pack of fruit snacks you were really looking forward to after a long week of classes.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned into the cupboard. “Chan!”

“Yes, darling?” he called from his - Yeri’s - bedroom, to which you stomped over to confront him. Seeing a grown man on Yeri’s white desk on a pink gaming chair playing some PC game was truly a sight to see.

“Did you eat the last of my fruit snacks!?”

The sly boy swiveled the desk chair to face you. “Ooh, was that the last one? I swear there was one left…”

“Come on, dude!”

“I’m sorry, ok, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal! That’s not cool!”

“No, what’s not cool is that you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

You were taken aback by his bold, although correct, assumption. You really didn’t expect him to call you out on this so early. “I… have not…!”

“You’re such a liar!” He pointed accusingly. Although you seemed heated in the argument, Chan was grinning because of course he was right, that dick.

“You don’t think I have anything better to do, like do my homework or-or hang out with friends outside of this apartment?”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean every time you come home and see me in the living room, you go straight to your room.”

“That’s normal!”

“Ah yes, but then you wait until I go into my room -”

“Yeri’s room.”

“- to cook dinner or grab a snack.”

“That’s just a coincidence -”

“How about the opposite, when I come home and you’re chilling in the living room and then you go to your room and shut the door? No ‘hi, how was your day’, or anything.”

“Well -”

“Or how about the mornings, when you’re sitting at the kitchen table relaxing and drinking something warm and sweet-smelling with a tired smile on your face because this is the only time in your day where you get to truly relax, but the second I leave my room to go to the bathroom or grab some water, you chug whatever’s barely boiling in your cup, dump it in the sink, and head out.”

“... I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Wow, look at that smug look on your face,” he pointed again. You didn’t even feel that proud smile on your lips. But Chan didn’t think it was amusing. His lips formed a frown, like he was insulted or even hurt at how cold you could be towards him. “What have I done to make you hate me this much?”

Your eyes bulged incredulously. “Let’s go down memory lane, shall we? Almost every weekend of the fall semester you; crashed on our couch, ate all of our ramen and eggs and sriraicha the morning after to recover from your massive hangover, used our laundry detergent, and used our bath products just to name a few! All without a simple thank you or even asking beforehand!”

Chan couldn’t deny that yes, maybe he’d been a little, um, unceremonious with his intrusion on your life, but come on, everyone deserves a second chance! The very prideful man in front of you rolled Yeri’s pink chair to the threshold only to clasp your hands together in his and now you were sweating.

“Ok, I’ll admit that I was a terrible guest this past semester.” Does an apology count if the guilty party rolls his eyes? “So, out of the goodness of my heart, I am very, very sorry.”

“My ass.”

“What!? Does this not look sincere to you?” he asked, pointing to his fake pouty face.

“Ok, I’m leaving.”

“No no no, c’mon!” Chan whined as he chased you into the living room. He grabbed your trailing hand to stop you. “Look, I’m truly sorry that I sometimes use your things -”

“Always use my things.”

“Most of the time use your things. I am sorry, really. Please believe me, ok? Aren’t you tired of avoiding me all the time?”

A tired sigh escaped you because you were absolutely exhausted from it. “I accept your semi-sincere apology. But why, for the love of God, why don’t you ever use Yeri’s things!? Why mine? She’s the one that’s your friend!”

“Honestly? I wanted to get your attention.”

“Oh, my God, what are you, five?”

“Hey, you’re the one who ignored me like a rude hostess from the get-go! You never gave me a chance!”

“My first impression of you was all I needed to not give you one.”

“I couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You puked in my backpack with some of my textbooks in it and poor Yeri had to clean up your mess!”

“Oh yeah, I remember that… That was on Sunwoo’s birthday.” You tried walking away again, but Chan’s grip was too strong. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit my first impression was horrendous, but you never let me redeem myself after that, so I kept annoying you so you’d confront me about it! That’s not fair that you judged me so quickly!”

“Yeah, and look how annoying me turned out! It went from my first impression to my thousandth impression.”

“I mean, it eventually worked, right?”

Another tired sigh. “Chan, is there a purpose to this?”

“Yes. I want to start over.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Start over? Like, erase all the shit that happened between us?”

“Exactly. A clean slate. Clean plates, I’ll even do your dishes tonight.”

You did hate doing the dishes… And you were so tired of stressing out over avoiding him, even if it had only been a week. After a long, painful pause, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Fine, a clean slate it is.”

A prideful and grinning roommate gladly shook your hand. “I pledge to not be an asshole anymore.”

“And I promise not to have a stick up my ass.”

“Wow, look how far we’ve come, huh? Cheers to a new friendship?”

“After you do my dishes.”

“... Fair enough.”

To commemorate this new and fresh friendship, you joined Chan in the kitchen. You didn’t do anything as he hand-washed your handmade dishes made in pottery class, but in return for eating your last fruit snack pack, he offered you some cookies he’d been hiding to which you gladly obliged. It was a peaceful silence in the kitchen other than the clinking of dishes and running water that offered some white noise while you read one of your books (after Chan called you a nerd). This had to be the most stress-free thirty minutes of your life.

“So,” your new ‘friend’, if you’d generously call him, began after finishing the dishes. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a cookie of his own. “Now that we’re cool and all, I would like to formally invite you to our basketball game tomorrow.”

"First of all, we're not totally cool just yet. Think of this as like a trial. Gotta pay your premium subscription fees before getting the premium benefits.”

“Yeah, yeah, so do you wanna go or not?"

"Hm, a basketball game? Like you're playing in it?"

"As the captain, I sure hope so."

You thought about it for a second - what terrible things could possibly come about if you went to one of Chan's basketball games? Well, it's set in a crowded and sweaty arena, whose crowd and players are also sweaty, it was loud, the food and drinks were expensive, and you literally could not care less about basketball. But, out of the goodness of your heart, which was now willing to give people a second chance for some reason, maybe you could tolerate sitting through a quarter or two.

"Sure, I'll go."

"Really? I wasn't expecting that."

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"I'm tryna be homies, and that's what homies do! Invite homies to their basketball games."

"Please don't call me homie."

"Ok, home skillet."

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about basketball."

"Like, at all?"

"I know the cool far shots are worth like three points, right?"

"Oh, darling, you have a lot to learn. Here, lemme do a spark notes run down."

Professor Chan, PhD in sports and partying, took however many hours to explain. You lost track after two. At the end of the night, all of the cookies and milk were gone and you both went to bed at two in the morning.

"You, at a basketball game!?" Yeri snorted from the other side of the world. "And you and Chan being civilized!? Lord, how long have I been gone?"

"I have many regrets…"

"Don't say that! I think it's cute that you guys are finally getting along. Who would've thought that locking you two in the same apartment for one week was all that it took?"

"It might have been sooner if he'd just apologized right away instead of stealing all of my stuff to get my attention."

"Yup, sounds like Christopher."

"So you're coming back soon, right…?"

"If soon means a couple of months, yes."

"Yeri ~!" you whined, hopelessly missing your Sunday night partner watching crime documentaries.

"Chill, you big baby, just hang out with Chan if you're so lonely."

"Ugh, gross." Ironically enough, you stepped on a freshly-spat wad of gum upon entering the half-filled gymnasium.

"But not too often cuz, you know, you might fall in love ~"

You hoped no one saw the way your face twisted in disgust. "Are you delusional!?"

"Or even worse, you two might get drunk and make out and then fu -"

"OH-KAY, bye, Yer-bear love you!" You hung up immediately, traumatized at the thought she planted in your head. You hated how your face heated up so brightly. Don’t sweat it, _____! There’s no way that something like that could blossom from something that was nothing!

"Hey, you actually made it -" Chan had burst into your bubble without a warning, causing you to jump and drop your phone. After wiping off another fresh glob of gum from your phone screen this time, you bucked up the courage to stand face-to-face with a confused Chan wearing his basketball uniform. "Jeez, you good? You're all blushy. Ah, you saw Jaehyun's nudes, didn't you?"

"No, idiot! You just startled me, although I should be used to you invading my space by now."

“Ha ha. Stop being weird and take a seat. We’re still warming up, but hopefully we’ll start soon.”

“Uh, is there like, designated seating, or?”

Chan’s dimply smile accompanied a rough hair ruffle. “How cute, you’ve never been to a game before, huh?”

“I would rather die than willingly pay to go here on my leisure.”

A strong, sweaty arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Sit right over there,” he said, pointing to a single spot in the middle of the one hundred level that allowed for the best view of the entire court. “You’ll see me in action the whole time.”

“Next to the dude eating a chili dog and the chick with a cut-out of Woojin’s face?”

“The superfan section truly is not of this world.”

“If I came all the way here just to watch you lose, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t worry, baby, we never lose!”

The coach called Chan back to warm up some more which left you no choice but to enter the germ-infested purgatory and sit in between the superfans. Glancing at the other team, it was clear that they had the intimidation factor of being the taller and bigger players, so you weren’t sure how this was going to turn out. But your team, although smaller, had an enormous amount of unwavering energy. Perhaps it was because they were playing at home and had the entire half of this court filled to the brim cheering their names.

Chan was busy next to the couch, watching the form of his teammates as they were shooting three pointers. There was no doubt to anyone, even if no one had ever seen him before, that he was the captain. Who knew the barf-filled, void for a stomach, almost always naked asshole had the mindset of a lion? Every now and again, he’d pull one of his teammates to the side, probably a newbie to the varsity team, and help him with his form or give pointers or remind him of what play they were going to execute once the buzzer rang.

At some point, you realized you were watching him for far too long because he caught you right where he placed you. By the smirk on his lips, you’ll never hear the end of it if you see each other back at the apartment, and you would have looked away almost immediately if he hadn’t grabbed a ball not a second later. What was he doing?

Chan dribbled the ball to the free throw line (at least you think that’s what it’s called). He looked at you again, but this time he was pointing, like he was challenging you. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium managed to pinpoint his target to you and if he thought you were blushy before, he should really see you up close now. After the very dramatic scene, Chan focused on dribbling the ball a few times which brought everyone’s attention back to him, thankfully. He dribbled a bit more, stopped to set up his shot, followed through and swoosh, there it went, right into the basket like a mathematician's perfect parabola.

“That was for you,” he mouthed silently with a sense of tease dripping from every word.

Normally, you might have flicked him off, but who were you to ruin the vibe just before the game started? Out of the goodness of your heart, you lightly clapped at his performance like this was the opera.

And so the game began! Mingyu, since he was the tallest member, did that thing where they toss the ball up in the air and they try to get it on their side, and since he was like 6’5”, it was easy for Chan’s team to start with the ball. There was a lot of back and forth head movements and eye scanning and you felt like your brain was being shaken up. To be honest, before you stepped into the stadium, you thought that none of this was going to excite you in the least. The idea of sweaty boys running around with a ball was completely barbaric, didn’t you think? But when someone, especially Chan, shot the ball or blocked it or did some weird dancey footwork, you gasped and cheered with the rest of the gym, the spirit of the game blooming in your soul much to your resistance.

The game ended almost too quickly and thankfully your team won. All of the superfans and the cheerleaders ran towards the team, congratulating them with cheers and hugs and mounting their beloved captain on their shoulders. Chan had his bright and dimply smile you’ve been seeing too often this week. You considered waiting until the crowd died down so you could congratulate him right then, but being the captain meant he was the center of everyone’s attention, not just yours. You shrugged off the impatience and headed for home. You could always congratulate him tomorrow, so long as he hasn’t puked anywhere.

Just before exiting the gym, you heard your name being called.

“_____, wait!” Chan yelled, sprinting to you as soon as his people made a walkway.

“I guess a congratulations is in order,” you said. “Congrats on winning. You looked super cool out there.”

“Hold on, can you say that one more time?” he teased, whipping out his phone to record you.

“Congrats, asshole!” you greeted the camera with double birdies.

“Thank you, m’lady. Where are you going now -”

“Channie!” a cute voice cried. Channie?

“Miyeonie!” he parroted back at the pretty cheerleader.

“Are you coming with us to Mingyu’s or what?”

You almost forgot it was the weekend already. It was time for drunk Chan shenanigans to ensue and that meant locking yourself up in your room and hiding the newly-bought fruit snacks.

“Oh, uh…”

Chan looked back at you like he was about to ditch his little sibling who had asked to play with him. Before any embarrassing pity invites were thrown out, you quickly bid your farewell.

“I’ll see you later, Channie ~” you waved off playfully.

“_____, hold on,” he said in urgency. Oh no, please don’t do what you think he’s doing… “Uh, I think I’m going to skip out on tonight, Miyeon.”

Both of you looked at him like he had three heads and two tails. Miyeon’s the only one brave enough to speak up on it. “Party Boy Channie is ditching us tonight? Why?”

“I’m super tired.” You’re full of shit, Chan! Why are you ruining my quiet night in!? “I’ll catch you guys next week, though.”

“Fine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok ~” She then quickly kissed him on his lips and he welcomed it fully like they’ve been doing that for some time now. Could it be that Party Boy Channie has finally settled down, despite all of his sloppy stories he used to slur about every weekend? How was it that he, of all scumbags, was able to have a significant other and you couldn’t even get a tinder date! “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t get too wild tonight.”

“No promises!”

Chan sighed helplessly and turned to face a disgusted? Shocked? No, a very uncomfortable you who had watched a corny teen drama movie unfold right in your face.

“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely for once.

“Oh please, I absolutely love watching true love express itself right in front of me, Channie.”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s not love.”

“Really? You’re telling me kissing pretty cheerleaders isn’t your love language?”

“Not when they cling to me like mothballs.”

“You’re so cruel, Channie.”

“Stop calling me that,” he warned. “Secondly, what are we doing tonight?”

“We? I don’t know who this we is, but I’m going home.”

“Aw, c’mon, really? I just ditched a Kim Mingyu party and perhaps some ass for some quality roommate bonding time!”

“I did not ask you to do that.”

“Don’t you wanna go out to eat or something? I’ll even pay for you.”

“No, because there’s food at home.”

“There isn’t food at home, you liar!”

“Well ok, not yet, I still have to go to the market first and then I’ll cook.”

“Oh?” You can cook? He certainly didn’t know that. “You’re cooking us dinner?”

“I’m cooking me dinner.” Chan folded his hands and gave you a poor excuse for puppy eyes. But he did just win the game, and you bet doing all that sporty stuff made him starving. “But I guess I can make you a plate... I guess you and I can… eat together…”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“I’m clearly holding back my excitement.”

Usually in movies or tv, they have the head chefs of famous local restaurants come to the markets between four and five in the morning. The amateur chefs like yourself prefer to pick off what was left for much cheaper at night time. It’s not that the stuff left over was any bad, it was just the important people managed to pick out all the perfect prawns and symmetrical vegetables and what have you. It was much less stressful in the evenings anyways, when everyone was already home cooking and you were left to wander as you pleased before the vendors packed up for the day.

“Do you come here all the time to grocery shop?” a freshly-washed Chan asked beside you. When he went grocery shopping, as long as the produce didn’t have any bruises and the meat was red, that’s all he needed. He never inspected the peaches for its plumpness or asked what time the fish was caught today, unlike you, though now and again he’ll slap a watermelon to test its juiciness.

“Goodness, no, am I made of money?”

“How expensive can this place be, they’re not even in a store.”

“Oh, Chan the naivete. Think of the most expensive piece of produce you’ve ever bought. It’s probably organic, right? Free of pesticides and the like?”

“I think it was an avocado.”

“Right, completely ridiculous that you’re paying $2.50 per avocado. The avocadoes here? Double that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I really wish I was. Those are the morning price avocadoes though. Nighttime shoppers like us are lucky to snag them for $3.50.”

“Why bother paying so much when you can go to the local store across the street from your house?”

“Even though I can get much more for the price I’m paying here,” you paused and handed Chan the brightest and quite possibly the smallest strawberry he’d ever seen. “You can taste the difference.”

Snipping off the green stem and leaves, the clueless boy popped the berry in his mouth and you watch the flavor brighten his eyes.

“Quality over quantity,” you bragged.

The rest of your time there, you had to stop Chan from eating a single grape from every little basket at every single vendor.

“You are a child.”

“Baby me, baby.”

Coming back to the apartment with your’s and Chan’s arms full of groceries, anxiousness rushed in the second you stepped beyond the threshold. It occurred to you that you’ve never actually cooked for anyone before besides Yeri. This will be the second time you’ll see someone’s first reaction to your cooking, and it’ll be from your worst enemy.

“Need me to sous chef, head chef?” he asked while unpacking.

“Actually, that would help me a lot. Could you wash the vegetables?”

“Sure. While we’re at it, can I get your opinion on something?”

You raised your brow in confusion. “Do I have the knowledge for it?”

“You have ears, so yes.”

From that point moving forward, you decided not to question Chan because he was going to do whatever he wanted anyways. As you prepped the kitchen, you ignored the loud rustling in the living room with the occasional ‘ow, fuck’ following a stubbed toe. Out of curiosity and right before yelling at him to hurry up, Chan had finally pressed the play button and an unfamiliar song played through his massive speakers that he brought outside.

“Is this your new song?” you asked.

He did the ‘hand-sexily-but-also-shyly-running-through-my-hair’ thing before answering. “Yeah, and I’m not sure if I like it that much. The guys say it sounds good, but they’re my homies so they have to say that, y’know?”

“At least you know I won’t bullshit you.”

“Be gentle at least, please.”

“I will once you help me with dinner finally.”

“Right, right.”

Of course one song didn’t cover the entirety of the dinner preparation. After the one, which you honest to God liked a lot (“Stop lying.” “I’m not! You asked me to be honest, dick!”), Chan shyly but happily showed you more of his work. Some of it was already posted to his Soundcloud and some weren’t uploaded because he either hated them or he was stuck and left unfinished.

“Like, how is it possible that I can’t finish a project whose finished product is less than three minutes long!?” By now, Chan gave up trying to help after he cut his finger several times and sat at the table munching on his expensive basket of berries as he explained his creative block to you as if you were his therapist. “It makes me seem lazy, doesn’t it?”

“People hit creative walls all the time,” you reassured. “Don’t get yourself down about it.”

“Have you ever even hit a wall before?” he challenged.

“I do in the kitchen all the time, you ass.”

“How is that even possible? What walls can you even hit in the kitchen?”

“The difference between baking and cooking is that baking has less room for error, but tons of room for visual creativity, which is why I think baking is much harder. Cooking measurements for a meal, on the other hand, are meant to be adjusted with freedom which is nice, but how many times can someone change the presentation of a bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables?”

A bowl of said food was placed in front of a drooling Chan who had to sit through the tortuous cooking process smelling the aromatics and satiate his rumbling tummy with sour fruit. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet and his eyes were already sparkling with anticipation. It was reactions like his that made you the most embarrassed because what if he tasted it and hated it!?

“Whoa, this looks delicious!” he beamed.

“You didn’t think I could cook, did you.”

“No, I thought you were joking and when you weren’t I was like, ‘I HAVE to taste her cooking’. I'm a little disappointed that it doesn’t look inedible.”

“Ha ha, just eat your food, parasite.”

With anticipation, you watched Chan take a huge bite with all the fixins on the spoon. You could sense the awkwardness when he turned away.

“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled with cheeks full of rice.

“Not until you tell me what you think.”

“Well, of course it tastes good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now stop looking at me, I’m not your zoo animal.”

A huge sigh of relief escaped you and a heavy weight off your chest was relieved. Something about cooking for new people always made you want to pass out, but if both your best friend and your best enemy admit to how good it is, maybe you’ll become more open to the idea of cooking for others more often. You DID like that huge sense of pride that rushed in.

Chan finished the bowl in two minutes. He held it up for you to take. “More, please.”

“Wow, ok.”

You were lucky enough to get a bowl yourself with Chan practically inhaling everything, and even then he still had room for dessert. It was atrocious how much a college man could eat.

“They say someone’s cooking says a lot about them,” Chan proposed while washing down his food with soda.

“They who?”

“I don’t know, the internet?” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah? What does the internet say about a bowl of rice for dinner?”

“That you’re uptight and don’t like to have fun.”

“Hey!”

“And probably a virgin.”

Your cheeks burned an embarrassingly bright red at the proclamation. “Wh-What makes you say that!?”

“It’s a safe meal to make. You know, hard to mess up and a little simple so it’ll always taste good?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Where’s the excitement, _____? The improvisation!?”

“There’s not much room to improv in cooking, Christopher.”

“Don’t you want to live a little? Have some spontaneity?”

“Are we still talking about my cooking or…?”

“No, dumbass, I mean your life, too!” Chan hopped up from his chair and took your hand to twirl you around the kitchen like the scene in Beauty and the Beast. Oh God, you hoped you didn’t accidentally poison him or that he was having a weird allergic reaction to sesame, or something. “Have some fun for once!”

You somehow broke away from the hypnotic dance and stood as far away from that crazy man as possible. “Don’t act like you know me all of a sudden because you read some corny Buzzfeed article about a fucking bowl of rice and meat, Bang Chan!”

“What do you mean, I’ve come to know you for a whole semester.”

“A whole semester of being blacked out.”

“Hey, that means nothing!”

“Ok. Tell me one thing you know about me from a whole semester of being unconscious on my couch.”

“You have an in-depth skin care routine.”

“Anyone can guess that.”

“From the books you have lying around and a few paintings on the wall, you dabble in that horoscope bull shit.”

“So do a lot of girls, next.”

“You like heart and star-shaped marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”

You’ll admit that one had you silent for a moment. Only Yeri knew about that, but that was because those were the only marshmallows you bought specifically for hot cocoa. They add a little pizazz to your drink, especially with the edible glitter. “That doesn’t count, there’s no other marshmallow in the apartment.”

“True,” he began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you like a whole handful of marshmallows in your mug.”

“... S-So -”

“Ah ha, got one!”

“So what, a ton of people like marshmallows!”

“Yeah, but not pink hearts and purple stars ones!”

“How do you even know that?”

“Hm. I think it was the night of Hongjoong’s birthday. Yeah, I passed out, woke up, whined to Yeri, and she made me hot cocoa and said, ‘Do you care if the marshmallows are shaped like hearts and stars?’ And I said, ‘I ONLY want hearts and stars’.”

A shy smile spread across your lips. It’s moments like these when you weren’t chewing his ear off that he finds you a little cute. Just a little.

“Is there a reason for those specific marshmallows?” he asked.

“They’re cute,” you pouted.

“Well, do I get a prize for knowing one thing about you?”

“Yeah, doing the dishes.”

“What!?”

“I cooked now you clean!” you said before running off to your room.

A tired, but willing Chan dragged his feet to the sink. He could just throw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow hand-washing while reminiscing about all the Fridays he’s crashed here with you barking like a chihuahua the next morning was much more fun.

His cheeks hurt from smiling too much by the end of that night.

A virgin… How the hell does cooking a bowl of rice for your roommate somehow make you a virgin!?

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the most outstanding meal you’ve ever made or could have cooked for him, but that ungrateful man who couldn’t even fry an egg shouldn’t be so picky!

But why, of all the insults and swears he’s ever thrown at you, was virgin the one that hit you the most?

Who cares if you were or weren’t one! What difference did that make you as a person, right!? At first glance, of course no one would be able to tell whether you were or weren’t one, but what did that say about people who did know you, like Chan and Yeri? Was that the kind of vibe you gave off? Were you too goody-goody, too play-by-the-rules? Was Chan right when he said your life lacked that spark, that spontaneity he seemed to so-crave?

Now that you thought about it, you haven’t gone out on a date or even found someone remotely interesting in a very long time… Since your first year of college at the very least.

Maybe you should show him how spontaneous you could get.

“That’s another thing I noticed last semester,” Chan’s charming accent shook you from your thoughts. You looked to the boy intruding in your room who leaned against the door frame, once again in only his pajama pants and a wet towel slung over his neck to barely cover his torso. He was built like he was carved from the finest slab of marble - how was his skin so white and smooth? “You tend to space out a lot, especially when you’re working on something.”

“How can you tell?”

“You get that dumb look on your face.”

“You mean the same one you have on all the time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Thank you. What are you getting all dressed up for on a Tuesday night?”

“Miyeon said she was coming over like, ten minutes ago and I felt musty, so here I am, half naked in front of your door like this is the greatest dream you’ve ever had.”

“Is that the cheerleader from your game last weekend?” Chan hummed as a response, drying his hair with the towel around his neck and a toothbrush in his mouth. “Is she your girlfriend?”

You heard him choke on the toothpaste. “God, no, why do you think that?”

“I mean she kissed you… ?”

“Eh, it’s kind of an on-again-off-again thing, but nothing was ever official between us.” A sudden realization hit Chan and then that sly smirk that loved to tease you came back to haunt you. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of some cheerleader who’s clearly in love with a man who has no interest in her while he lives with another woman?” you scoffed. “Green with envy.”

“At least I have someone in my life!” he called from the bathroom.

That, too, hit a little too close to your heart. He was right - at least he had someone who kept him company, who adored him, who he could go out on dates with… And what did you have? A lousy roommate who uses your body wash.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after coming back fully clothed. Your bed was much softer than Yeri’s, who had a rock hard firm mattress. Perhaps Chan should take his naps here instead.

“Nothing. What is there to do on a Tuesday night?”

“Lots of things! It’s Taco Tuesday at that food truck on campus, it’s Tteokbokki Tuesday at that Auntie’s restaurant by the bookstore, ooh and the record store down the street gives out free seltzer water for the hipsters.”

“Is that what you and Miyeon are doing tonight?”

“No, she just wanted to make-out I think.”

“How romantic…”

Chan laid on your bed and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. Somehow after only a few weeks of living together did you tolerate his presence enough to not nag him to get out of your room, let alone off your bed. While you studied the infinite pages of words in your textbook, Chan was able to steal a few glances. The way your brows furrowed in frustration, the messiness of your hair, the slight pout in your lips, it was all quite cute for someone as grouchy as yourself. Although he supposed he’d be an asshole, too, if he was studying seven days a week. You must be tired and frustrated.

Without you paying attention, he whipped out his phone and texted his date.

“Darn,” he sighed convincingly. “Miyeon just cancelled on me.”

“Good for her.”

“Well, now that I’m free, it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Sike, I have some homework to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chan hopped off the bed and peaked over your shoulder at your homework. He was so close that you could smell his woodsy cologne. You kind of liked it. Kind of. “Homework that’s due on Friday? God, _____, at least try to be cool, you nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Get dressed, those tacos and tteokbokki won’t be piping hot forever ~”

“I’m not going!” you tried to argue, but that annoying boy was already out of your room and putting his shoes on. Evil chuckling could be heard from the living room - what a weirdo. As your stomach violently growled, it was really hard to resist such a tempting offer of food, even if it meant going with Chan.

An impatient roommate danced his way to exit. “I’m walking out the door ~”

“Chill, will you?” you mumbled while throwing on your coat. “How are you going to invite me and then abandon me?”

“Then move faster.”

“You move faster…”

“Ah ~” Chan pinched your cheek lightly. “You’re kinda cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, with trying to kick up the spontaneity in your life and what-not.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It’s a cold Tuesday night and you almost heavily regret wanting to be spontaneous and cute and uncaring, all because a soundcloud rapper called you a virgin. But the thought of a hot cup of spicy rice cakes was enough for you to travel through the polar vortex. It helped that you weren’t the only one suffering.

“All those nights I crashed on your couch, I’d always buy a cup of this gold before heading over,” Chan admitted. “It was a shame for the days I threw it up.”

“Ah, no wonder your puke is red! I thought you were always almost dying.”

“Sometimes I wished I was.”

Of course the auntie knew Chan by the amount of times he’s stumbled upon the place drunk off his ass (“Wow, you’re walking straight and talking in sentences today!” “Ha ha, auntie…”). The fiery cup of rice cake was the perfect hand-warmer.

“Do I not give off the virgin vibe yet?” you half-joked.

A charming burst of laughter came from your annoying roommate. How could he forget that he called you that! “You’re not hung up on that, are you?”

“I just… I mean, do you think that’s the reason why…” you struggled to speak your insecurities into existence because once you did, that meant they were real and totally holding you back.

“Why what?”

“Tell me something - am I really that uptight? Does it make me seem… I don’t know, unapproachable? Unlikable, even?”

“Please, you are totally uptight.” A loud, unladylike groan echoed throughout the crowded streets of campus. “Unapproachable, yes. Unlikable? I mean, not necessarily? Some guys think that’s hot.”

“So what you’re saying is I’ll be single forever or marry some pushover.”

“Hey, don’t put words into my mouth! Look, if you really want to change how your aura appears to people, you already have! You’re out on a Tuesday night eating rice cakes with the sexiest guy you know. That’s progress in my book, all thanks to me.”

“Somehow you’ve turned my insecurities into praising yourself.” It was impressive, honestly. “You’re something else, Christopher.”

“Thank you!”

“What’s next on our impromptu tour of the town?”

“Ya like vinyl?”

“Huh?”

Chan said nothing else as he cut you off and walked right into the record shop and low and behold, potential buyers were holding skinny cans of flavored seltzer.

“C’mon, princess, there’s not enough seltzer for everyone!” Chan urged.

The vastness and number of collections of the record shop rivaled the local book shop down the street. Although much noisier and haphazard, the concept was still the same and the neon signs and signed posters gave the shop quite the personality. Actually, it was almost as if it was Chan personified.

In front of you was a basketball-loving ear-pierced punk-ass roommate who wore leather jackets in sub-freezing temperatures and didn’t know how to fold his laundry flipping through the Wu-Tang Clan basket. And there was you, the personified small local bookstore, watching him longingly and wishing you could be like him, who was cool enough to attract other cool people and be someone so approachable and likable. He was the complete opposite of you, and yet somehow you’re both here together, acting like you never had to kick his ass for using your toothbrush four too many times.

How was it possible to think that one day, someone could be in love with a plain and boring bookstore like yourself? Could someone like Chan love someone like you one day?

You hoped so.

Chan wondered where you were and found you looking at him with tired eyes. Of all the things to look at, you somehow could only look at him. With his dimply smile, he said, “Falling in love with me?”

Something made you want to say yes. “Did you find something you like?”

He silently gestured to you to come over with a lazy hand. As expected, he pulled out one of the Wu-Tang Clan records and played it on one of the modern record players that had one set of headphones at the station.

“Here, put these on,” he instructed while putting the over-ear headphones on. A smooth and unique rap style voiced over the equally-smooth instrumentals. It was unlike anything you’ve heard before. Perhaps Chan’s intellectual layers lied within his knowledge in music.

A slight pressure pressed against your right ear. You couldn’t see from your peripherals, but you could smell Chan’s rustic cologne again, and that itself already made you blush deeper shades of red than you could ever imagine. Since there was only one set of headphones, Chan obviously had no other choice but to listen to this track with you like this - invading your space bubble and making you weak in the knees.

“Do you like it?” you could barely hear.

“I do,” you replied. The song wouldn’t be over for another two minutes and Chan refused to move. “Is this what you like?”

“It’s inspirational to me.” The vibrations of his voice almost sent you into shock because wow, was he close to you or what.

He knew you were nervous. He could tell simply by how your shoulders squared the moment his ear pressed on the outside of the headphones. That’s yet another detail he’s come to notice while crashing on your couch and living with you. Whether you were nervous because he was shirtless after coming out of the shower or you were annoyed because he’d eaten all of the ice cream you were saving in the back corner of the freezer, you always straightened your posture upon seeing him because God forgive you ever show any emotion. Why were you like those stuck-up librarians at the hipster bookstores down the street who turned a blind eye to anyone who didn’t look like they read books?

Or maybe, just maybe, you were liking this. You liked being in close proximity to the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. You liked the almost-but-not-really skinship you almost-but-not-really shared. You were nervous, not annoyed, weren’t you? Or were you annoyed that you’re nervous around your most hated enemy?

Either way, Chan wins, and that’s all that mattered to him.

You spent most of the spontaneous night in the record store listening to soul, trot, pop punk, underground hip-hop, and everything in between. Quite literally in-between, as Chan would not stop pressing his face to yours because he refused to find a second pair of headphones for him to borrow.

“Stop doing that!” you whined for the fifth time.

“I wanna listen, too ~”

“Then go steal another set of headphones!”

“But I like this. It’s way more fun. And your cheeks are so hot that the radiated heat is warming my face up.”

You’re silent at that point forward because your cheeks thought their purpose in life was to burn as hot as the sun and serve as a radiator to intrusive boys who wanted nothing more than to listen to good music with you.

Honestly, what’s there to complain about?

The record store didn’t close until midnight and you practically stayed until then. At that point, Chan with his black hole for a stomach was hungry again and led you to the taco truck he talked about earlier.

“Is it Taco Tuesday still if it’s past midnight?” you wondered.

“It’s still Tuesday until the sun comes up in my books.”

Tacos weren’t exactly an easy-to-eat street food, so you used the tin foiled rolls as hand warmers until you were back in the comfort of your kitchen where you could happily eat greasy tacos with your sworn enemy.

“What do midnight tacos say about me now?” you questioned the food and vibe expert across the table.

“They say you like cliches and you care a little too much about what people think of you.”

“How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Please, Taco Tuesday is so cliche! And you conformed to it because you want to seem more playful and less of a stick-up-your-ass, am I right?”

The pout on your lips was enough of an answer. “Now I feel like a virgin in sheep’s clothing.”

“Hey, we all have to start somewhere.”

“Do you think I’m more likable this way?”

Perhaps Chan was a little harsh with his words the one night you cooked for him. He thought he would be able to know you front and back after nearly a month of living together, but it seemed that he was farther away from that than he thought. After all this time, he thought you didn’t care one bit about how people perceived your feisty self. Maybe instead you cared too much and you had built a wall to prevent others like Chan from knowing.

“You were always likable,” he admitted honestly.

“Please stop lying,” you groaned.

“I mean it! Even when you were yelling at me or trying to kick me off the couch or stealing back the food I was trying to eat, I never hated you. It was so much fun messing with you because you were not afraid to cuss me out.”

“And that makes me likable how?”

Chan shrugged. “I have fun when I’m around you. Do you think I would have kept coming back to crash here if I hated you?”

“Yeah, to torture me.”

“Well, to clear things up, I don’t hate you. And I bet my bottom dollar that you don’t hate me, either.”

“Sike.”

“You’re telling me you still hate me after the fun we had tonight? Or the night you watched me play and cooked for me? Or even the one night after Lucas’s Halloween party when I passed out here even though your heater was broken and you wrapped me up in your fuzzy blanket?”

Another blush spread across your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget the first night you showed me any compassion?”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t hate you… You’re, in fact, quite tolerable.”

Who knew Chan’s eyes could light up so brightly at such a mediocre compliment, if you’d even call it one. “You like me ~”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna fall in love with me ~”

“Chan -”

“I bet you already have ~”

“Ok, I’m going to bed.”

“No, you aren’t!”

You tried to run out of the kitchen and into your room to lock the door, but Chan got to you just as you reached the living room. He entrapped you with his big, strong arms and held you in a suffocating hug, drowning out his giggles with your screaming. Your resistance was strong, but you were smiling brighter than he’d ever seen before. Today was a long day for both of you and the moment Chan rested his chin on your shoulder was when you stopped struggling to break free. His tufts of chestnut hair and slow breathing tickled your cheeks.

“Oi, wake up,” you demanded, hitting his forearms.

That only made him hold you tighter. “No.”

You stopped fighting him and let the poor boy rest on your shoulder. “You don’t think this is weird?”

“No. We’re just two roommates fighting, right?” he teased, shaking you in his arms.

“Yeah, fighting.”

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please.”

His giggle rang in your ear and made goosebumps travel throughout your skin. Then Chan did what spontaneous Chan does and surprised you by kissing your cheek with a loud, moist, audible smooch.

“A-Ah, Chan!!” you gasped.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

Before you could scold him further, he had already let go and went to his room. How long was he holding you? Because now you’re left stunned in the living room feeling the cold from the draft of your windows. Your cheek felt like it had been branded by his soft rose petal lips. It burned so much that you ended your night lying in bed staring at the ceiling cupping the tainted cheek.

“I hate him,” you mumbled to no one. Your words hold zero weight the moment you screamed into your pillow.

The first couple of days after the incident were a little weird, to put it simply. You circled back to your old habits of avoiding him and keeping conversations short and that didn’t slip past Chan for even a couple of hours. At first, he thought he might have ruined whatever weird friendship you had together, but the way you avoided him was not how it used to be.

You were embarrassed - dare he say even shy. Your avoidance held no malice and didn’t feel icy as it did last semester. Rather, you fled because you felt vulnerable. Your words were no longer full of insults, but instead were soft and sprinkled with stutters. It was like a scene from a drama set in high school where the cute shy nerd has a massive crush on the super sexy jock and won’t admit her feelings because she doesn’t think she has a chance. And knowing you, you would never admit to having feelings, so how was Chan supposed to get a confession out of you?

Cornering you was the only option he thought could work, but sadly that didn’t.

“Chan, c’mon, I have to use the bathroom,” you whined on the other side of the door.

He didn’t say a word when the door opened and steam spilled out into the halls. Yet again was he dressed only in his pajama bottoms and a towel around his neck, hair still damp and hanging loosely over his eyes. He took a step forward and you’re given no choice but to back up.

“What are you -”

You cut yourself off when your back hit the wall and Chan had you in the palm of his hands. Proximity was close to nothing as your toes touched and you could smell your body wash from his freshly-washed chest. Seriously, he still used your body wash!?

“C-Can I use the bathroom or what…” you stuttered.

He stared right in your eyes, then admired your cute nose, and finally down to your lips. He was teasing you! Like, actually teasing! He’s making you think that he wanted to kiss you! All of the possibilities of him making a move on you were just as equal as him not going through with it and your mind was racing like crazy and it was really starting to stress you out! Why, why was it stressing you out!?

Then he took a huge step back to let you through.

“All yours,” he whispered.

Well, that sort of worked… You didn’t say a verbal confession, but your face sure showed it. But no, that wasn’t enough. He needed to hear you say it. He had to do more, and he knew exactly what to do to push your limits.

For the whole week, whenever you did something for him whether it was answering a simple question or giving him a plate of whatever you cooked for dinner, Chan would kiss your cheek. That’s right, those soft rose petal lips would every-so slightly graze your cheeks almost everyday and even when you tried to scold him or fight back, you didn’t, as if you were stunned frozen every single time. This of course scared Chan - no emotion meant uncertainty on his end. Well, did you like it, or not!?

At some point, after a whole week of cheek kisses, you kind of… got used to it. Got used to the damn kisses, his flirtatious winks, the invasion of your space bubble, eating all of your food, using all of your bath products, taking unsolicited naps on your bed while you studied, all of it! You’ve gotten used to being around the man that is Bang Chan and you would almost admit that you liked being around him… almost.

And neither of you spoke up about it.

So… what were you two…? That’s right, you’re asking yourself the infamous ‘so what are we’ question - it’s really reached that point. No longer were you enemies or just plain roommates living separate lives, and of course you two weren’t dating, either. So did you consider him a friend? Sure, I mean you wouldn’t cook dinner for just anyone, right? But everything Chan did was not what normal friends do. At least in your experience - who knows if he’s doing this type of stuff to his other ‘friends’, like Miyeon.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you were almost convinced whatever relationship they had was over when she called off their date that one Tuesday - until Friday night.

The night was still young when you arrived home to your roommate mixing and playing with some beats over those impossibly loud speakers. It’s been a long week dealing with school work on top of figuring out your conflicting feelings of the boy in the next room and a quiet night without any games from Chan would be ideal, but life never worked out for you in that way, did it?

“Welcome home, darling ~!” he greeted playfully over the blasting bass before turning it down. “Cookin’ anything for dinner?”

The tiredness in your sigh didn’t go unnoticed. “Nah, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I might do delivery if you’re up for that?”

The charming man came out of the room all dressed up like he was planning on going out and not coming back for the night. “That’s ok, I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Miyeon’s taking me out to one of her friend’s birthday bash, or whatever rich girls like to do, before we all go out tonight.”

Miyeon, the gorgeous cheerleader. Somehow, you’ve completely forgotten her existence. Of course they were still talking, idiot! How could you even think that you could compete with someone like her?

“Are you her date?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to know the answer.

“If that’s what she’s callin’ it, I guess so.” Chan adjusted his shirt collar and unbuttoned the top. “Do I look good?”

“Do you not consider her your date?”

“Not really. All I have to do is sit and look pretty.”

“You don’t think she’s asking you because she likes you?”

“Please, she probably only asked me because Mingyu said no.”

“Chan, you don’t know that for sure.”

You began to feel his frustration when he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? “Why are you so hung up about this? Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t!” you said a little too defensively. “I just don’t think you’re being fair.”

“How?”

“What if she really likes you? What if she’s asking you out to this thing because she wants you to know that? If she does like you, can you even say that you like her back?”

“Tch, no.”

“Then why even bother going and leading her on!?”

“Who said I’m leading her on? I’m just keeping her company!”

“What, so you’re going to have your arm around her waist, look into each others’ eyes and kiss and it’s going to mean nothing!?” At this point, you were screaming before you knew it. “Because that’s what you two normally do, right? Kiss each other like it means nothing?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means, nothing! I -” Chan sighed heavily. “Ok, it does sound a little ridiculous when I say it out loud, but I promise it doesn’t mean anything! Wait a minute, why am I even explaining myself to you? Are you jealous, or something?”

No, you’re not jealous. You’re angry that Chan was that kind of guy who played with women like they were toys or little pawns on a cheap chess set. You’re angry that you were one of them.

“Have fun tonight,” you said flatly, retrieving to your room.

“_____, wait.” You didn’t wait and instead locked your bedroom door. “Fuck.”

Well, Chan’s End Game plan to get you to confess out of jealousy backfired badly. The party wasn’t even real! Dammit, now where was he supposed to go looking like this!?

A small lightbulb went off in his head. Off to the grocery store!

Maybe going to your room was a terrible idea because now you were left to reflect on how you poorly reacted. You had your strong points about how Chan didn’t know how Miyeon truly felt about him, but the flipside was that she could have felt the same - that she was just using Chan as some accessory and he was totally ok with that. Who were you to judge the weird mutualistic relationship that they had as head cheerleader and captain of the basketball team? The concept seemed corny and straight out of a teen movie, but perhaps those movies weren’t too far off base as you thought.

You’re also left to reflect on what he said before you stormed off into your room - were you jealous? At first, your anger could easily be mistaken for jealousy, but what was the truth? Of course you’re furious that Chan played these stupid fucking games with you! But you’d be less mad if you were the only one he cared to fool around with.

You finally left the room around an hour after your sulking to bump into Chan’s rock-hard chest.

“Jesus Christ!” you screamed. “Chan, what the hell!”

“Sorry, I was about to knock!”

“What are you doing right in front of my room, you werido!?”

The cheeky, dimply boy held up a paper bag. “Buzzfeed said people who like desserts are emotionally-driven and a little cold-hearted, but sweet as sugar once they get their fix.”

“Buzzfeed said that or YOU said that?”

“Both.”

You shook your head tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I lied. I don’t have some extravagant party to go to tonight. I haven’t texted Miyeon in weeks.”

“What? Then why did you…?”

“I had this dumb idea that you would confess your undying love for me if I somehow made you jealous. Clearly that didn’t work.”

“You’re right, you’re dumb ideas never work.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that! Fine, let me try Plan B. Let me know it it’s also dumb.”

“Gladly.”

“_____, I like you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Y-You what?”

“I like you. A lot. Since you threw that blanket over me that one night last semester and I knew you didn’t truly hate my guts after all. And then I got to live with you - to witness your multi-faceted personality, to talk with you, and to get you to laugh at my dumb jokes and cheek kisses. Tell me, _____, am I dumb for falling for you like this?”

“Well… I’d say yes, but that would admit I’m stupid, too.”

“Oh?” He smirked playfully, taking a step forward. “And that’s because…?”

You mumbled something incoherent. Then, Chan dropped the bag of desserts and scooped you in his arms again, nuzzling his nose in all the ticklish places on your neck.

“Chan, stop!” you giggled.

“Hm? What was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you ~”

“I like you!”

Finally, he stopped, lifting his head to look at you but keeping you safe in his arms. “Do you? I mean, really, do you?”

“I like you. Surprisingly a lot. And I hate it.”

“Music to my ears, baby,” he grinned. He buried his face once more to flower you with cheek kisses. “Say it again.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Please ~” his kisses trickled down to your neck.

“It tickles!” you giggled some more. “If I say it, you gotta stop.”

“As much as that burdens me, fine.”

“I like you, Bang Chan.”

“See? Doesn’t that confession feel great? Like a huge weight lifted off your chest?” He pulled you in closer, to which you oblige and it only made his ego bigger and his heart beat faster. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” you sighed dreamily.

“Would you like dessert to commemorate this beautiful union, my love?”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Will you kiss me first?”

You pulled on his shirt collar to bring him down for a long, deep kiss that Chan thought he could only ever dream about. It left him dizzy and a little light headed and the way you break the kiss to let your sweet lips linger so closely was torturous and almost had him begging for more. Almost. Bang Chan did not beg.

“Whoa,” he sighed breathily.

“That’s what you get for the past couple of weeks.”

“Ah yeah, I suppose I deserve that…”

You left the stunned Chan to go ahead into the kitchen. “Let’s go, lover boy. I want some ice cream, please.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

EPILOGUE

“You two are what!?”

You and Chan looked at each other with fear written on both of your faces. Yeri was on the other end on speakerphone screaming curse words and ‘are you kidding me’s and ‘I fucking knew this would happen’s.

“Yeah, we’re uh, kind of dating now,” Chan repeated bravly.

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! This is disgusting!! _____, what do you have to say for yourself, you hypocritical piece of poo!”

“I have nothing to say, I am just as ashamed as you are.”

Chan nudged you playfully. “Hey, we’re in this together, you know!”

“Ugh, I hate how I have to support this!” Yeri whined and cried and sobbed. “Just… Just don’t do it on my bed!”

“Don’t worry, apparently to Chan I’m a huge virgin because I know how to cook.”

“I was kidding!! And that’s gonna change now that I’m here -”

“Oh, gross! Stop! Please stop!” Yeri groaned. “I hate you both, I’m gonna kick your asses when I come back!”

“Love you too, Yer-bear,” you and Chan said in unison.

#bang chan #chan #skz #stray kids #skz chan #stray kids chan #college au #roommates au #chan scenarios #bang chan scenarios #chan imagines #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #omg no more chan for a very long time im tired of him LOL

2K notes · View notes

skarlettskwrl · 3 years

Text

Always Together: Chapter 1 - Where it All Began

It had been a day at school, and Jazz and I had decided to hit up the Nasty Burger the local food joint that was pretty much was the local teen hangout. We mainly met up there to study, get dinner, or both. I walk in and over to our usual booth and wait for Jazz. Which surprised me because she is usually waiting for me given that she already has a car, a sleek red convertible. And thus, always arrives a little before I do. And I begin pulling out my math sets from today, consisting of 3 sets across 5 pages. We are currently in what our teacher calls "Unit 0" which is basically a review from grade 8 and is going to last a week and a half, it is gonna have a test at the end mainly so the teacher can make adjustments based on where people are struggling or so she said.

Anyway, I am halfway done with my first set when Jazz finally pulls up. She is in her usual black fitted long-sleeved shirt paired with a pair of blue (almost cyan) jeans and black flats. Her hair is ginger, straight, and ends halfway down her back with a cyan blue headband. Her eyes are a deep turquoise. Her skin is pale but not sickly. I begin to wave at her as she approached; she smiled and quickens her pace. She sits down across from me in our booth and begins pulling out her homework, probably being quite a lot tougher than mine as she is a junior and I'm a freshman.

"Hey Jazz what took ya?" I asked her.

She replied with "I decided to take extra hours tutoring starting this semester" I frowned a bit at this as I am going to see her less and we had and will always be pretty close. She's been taking odd jobs around for as long as I can remember. She did this to help pay for food in the house and clothes on our backs. As much as our parents love us, we can't help but feel they loved their research more than us. And by a pretty large margin at times. Sometimes they are downright neglectful which kinda hurts to say. Often, when they are into the flow of work on an invention or research we won't see them for days at a time. This is probably why I'm so close with Jazz. That, and our parents' career choice had alienated us from the rest of the town and our respective peer groups by consequence. She was always teaching herself important life skills so she could intern and teach me. I often see her as more of a parent than a sister in that regard.

"So how was your day at school today?" She asks with a hint of concern.

"Slow mostly, classes aren't really kicking off yet with the first week and all," I said as a matter-a-fact-like. She frowned a bit as she can tell am holding back but decided not to press. The bit I wasn't going to tell her that I was shoved and locked in my locker as I was getting my geography textbook and binder by none other than Dash Baxter. Which then in turn made me 37 minutes late for said class when I was let out by the janitor and lost a perfectly good lock in the process (AN: Gosh that used to happen to me in grade school and it sucked and was a bit scary. I was kinda the 'strange kid' throughout school and it, unfortunately, followed me to post-secondary) She asks me "Danny are you doing ok on your math?". And I reply with "It's mostly stuff from last year so far, which you did a pretty good job at explaining as always." And said with a bit of a grin.

"Well then, while you finish that. I'm gonna pull out my question on 1984. Do the readings." Leaving 'ask for help if you get stuck' unsaid and takes on a serious face as she begins to read.

I have no issues completing my math and move onto my English work concerning To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Whereas, Jazz begins her physics work and man did question looks strange to me, making me very glad I am only in Gr 9 math. And after about 45 minutes pass,

"Hey Jazz what have you got left? Because I got 3 more reading questions." I ask about getting a bit of hunger making my stomach growl. She giggles at this and answers with "Just the 5 physics questions. Why don't you go order our supper after you get those last three done?" She replied still in the middle of her 8th to last problem. I hurry to finish the questions which takes about sevenish minutes. Then I proceed to put my binders, textbook, and English book back in my school bag. Jazz then hands me 12 bucks for both our meals. And I walk over to the cash and internally groan a little when I see the length of the line. There are about twenty-five people ahead of me. 'Damn that early Friday evening rush!' I internally exclaim. I wait in line for the next sixteen minutes. I finally get to the cash the cashier asks in his usual squeaky and nasally voice, also with a slight lisp due to headgear? I thinking that was a thing of the past. It perplexes me a bit.

"How may I take your order?" He asks me.

"2 Nasty teen burger combos please" He punches it in and rings me up with 11.50 and I hand him the 12 bucks and he asks

"Would you like a receipt?"

I reply with a simple "sure." Then I advance in the 'waiting for food line' and do another 8 minutes of waiting before I get our food.

I then walk back over to Jazz, who had already her homework and is waiting for me. I start unwrapping my burger and take a few bits. Then, Jazz adopts a look of concern on her face. I realize now that she is going to press what didn't earlier.

"Hey Danny, did something happen at school today?" And I was right. I know that I should have told her initially but I was determined to prove that I can handle myself, not only that, but I was a little embarrassed. And with a little more nonverbal prodding on her part, I tell her what went down with the day.

"Danny you really have to tell someone about that boy or stand up to him to discourage this behavior." Jazz states in a serious but caring tone. I sigh with a bit of an eye roll.

"For one waaay stronger than me. And for two he's an A-lister and quarterback giving him immunity to punishment by the principle and like most if not of the teachers who get a slice of the sports pie, making any attempts to report him futile." I deadpan, then add "It's pretty damn backward that the people the A-list bully are the ones that get in trouble. Being locked in lockers/closets and being late for classes getting reprimanded by teachers. Or, how they force the nerds to their homework and assignments for them. It's absolutely disgusting!" I am fuming by this point. Jazz simply nods and listens as I continue to rant and we finish eating our fast food supper. We get up to leave, clear our trays in the trash. We both wash our hands and we leave the establishment.

As we are getting into Jazz's car she asks me "Do you want to go to Staples to get a new lock?"

"Sure, why not?" Staples is about a five-minute drive from Nasty Burger. She pulls up and parks close as she can to the store entrance. We get out and enter the store and head for the school supplies aisle. Luckily it's still early enough in the semester that the back-to-school sales are still active. I pick out a pack of 4 master direction locks for 12 bucks, and with that, we head, and with that we head to the cash and out of the store.

We get back in Jazz's car and head home. Which is a 7 min drive from staples. Now our house is quite unmistakable with its huge UFO looking structure on its roof and the bright neon sign reading 'FentonWorks' with an arrow pointing to our front door. Jazz pulls up on our driveway and we enter and head up to our rooms on the second floor.

My room has a pretty standard twin bed, blue walls, desk with a desktop computer. The walls are littered with NASA posters and on my ceiling, those kiddy five points glow in the dark stars with a few planets mixed in. I have a dream to become an astronaut or at the very least work for NASA. I set my bag down by my computer desk and grab the directional locks and start trying to pry the packaging open. Then get scissors because this is getting ridiculous. I finally open the packaging. Picking the black and white one out of the pack I set to read the instructions set the lock 'up up up left down right down' and practice it a few times and once I get it down pat, I place it in my bag and boot up my computer and pull up an article on the Andromeda Galaxy. I'm not even halfway through the article when I hear my dad's booming voice.

"Jazz, Danny, come down to the lab right away!". This is the first time I've heard from either of my parents in days. They've been engrossed in some new portal invention as far as I can tell.

I head down where I meet my sister. We both give each an eye roll. And climb the stairs down to the lab.

Both my parents are standing in front of a massive hole in the wall. Almost shaking with excitement grinning ear to ear. My parents are an odd pair. My dad Jack Fenton, in his usual bright orange day-glow hazmat suit with a black rubber collar, gloves, and boot. He also has a hood with orange goggles that is easy to tuck into the collar which is how he usually wears it but not right now hiding his midnight blue eyes and greying hair. My Mom Maddie Fenton was in her complimentary blue hazmat suit, with a black rubber collar, gloves, and boots. Like my dad's hood, hers can also be tucked away into the collar but unlike my dad, she had red goggles and usually wears it up. Hiding her auburn hair and purple eyes. Both my parents are ghost hunters/researchers. They both have an intense hatred of ghosts but at the same token are completely fascinated by them.

"Kids go grab your hazmat suits, so we can begin," mom instructs. Jazz and I head over to the far wall where all the spare hazmat suits are. I grab my hazmat suit which is white with a black rubber collar, gloves, and boots, and head into the lab washroom. Take off my usual clothes which consist of a white t-shirt with a red-ringed collar and sleeves, and a red oval on the chest, a baggy slightly worn pair of blue jeans, And white and red converse. Once I had zip it up, I notice a super cringy sticker of my dad's grinning face and rip it off. I hope he won't get insulted. I exit the washroom and Jazz enters. A moment or two later she emerges with her hazmat suit which is lime green with the same collar, gloves, boots, and hood the same as me, but her goggles are blue and mine, black. We all pull up our hoods and goggles. Jazz asks in slight disinterest "What's this one supposed to do?"

And dad gave a booming reply of "This baby's gonna bust open a hole into the ghost dimension! Jazzypants!" I'll admit this invention is starting to intrigue me. Dad then grabs two fat cables, one going to the portal and the other the wall.

Simultaneously as he connects them he shouts "Bonzai!" And a visible spark runs up the cables, halfway to the portal, and fizzles out.

"I don't understand, we check over the calculations and the schematics several times over" dad said in disbelief. Mom walks over to dad and puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Jack, why don't we take a long walk together and grab some triple chocolate fudge as well. And come back to this tomorrow." Dad smiles a bit at the fudge but not with the same enthusiasm as he usually would. Both our parents exit the lab and head out. We pull back our hoods.

"Man, Jazz, I've never seen them that crush before." Jazz rolled her eye.

"You and I both know that portal was never going to work because ghosts and the paranormal are fiction." I just sigh in response, then she adds

"they'll get over it eventually and hopefully they will finally give up on this nonsense" she puts her fists in the air as she finishes.

"I'm heading back upstairs" and with that, she changes back into her normal clothes and leaves.

A few moments pass and I'm lost in thought 'maybe they just missed a wire, a switch or something.' 'It would be pretty cold to explore step foot in a whole new dimension' and with that mind is made up. I walk over to the portal and climb inside. Just as jazz comes down I'm already at the end of the portal.

"Hey, Danny, have you seen my phone? Danny you still down here?" She calls.

"No I haven't, have you checked the washroom? I'm in the portal." I answer.

Jazz responds with "Danny what are you thinking! Get out of there now!" I hear the worry in her voice and head back out. But as I do, I trip on a bundle of wires. To stop myself from face planting, I shoot my hand out and it catches on a panel. I hear a 'click' and remove my hand to reveal to buttons; On and Off, the on button is pushed in. I hear the whine of electricity. And turn to run, but it is ready too late. There is a sudden bright green, blinding light that engulfs me. And with it unimaginable searing white-hot pain. I feel as though every nerve and cell in my body is being torn apart and reforming. I hear a deafening blood-curdling scream and I slowly realize that's me screaming. 'Am I dying?' The pain starts to subside a bit as I hear a woman calling, no screaming my name it's so familiar but I can't quite place it. It's so far away, I want to get closer. But I'm so tired, my limbs feel lead. I remember whose voice it is now. It's Jazz. I tumble out of the portal and the world fades the black.

#danny phantom #always together #jazz fenton #danny fenton

4 notes · View notes

kyoupann · 4 years

Text

I’m posting this until now because I’ve given myself all day to process my thoughts on the situation and the conclusion is that I’m still very much pissed off.

(I complain about my didactics class, again.)

Today was my first didactics IV class of the semester so we were just going over the teams needed for a convention we have to organise this year, micro-teaching groups for our professional practice, and the evaluation criteria for the course. In that order. So, in the end we ended up having less time for the activities the prof wanted us to do that day.

We get to the evaluation part and this is where I go ok ? We have no exams, the planning of the convention is worth 30% which, uh, we think is stupid from the very beginning but whatever. Then... classwork is 70%. We were okay with all this, but then he is jsut like “these are the 4 activities that are due today at 1 p.m. and that’s gonna be every class. I want all of you active and not as passive as last semester” and yeah, they are relatively short activities, the problem is that the time is simply NOT enough. We have another class from 12 to 2, so please tell me when am I supposed to finish these activities if you’ve only given us the instructions with one hour left of the class? And it’s here where one of my friends confronts the teacher about the activities and how unrealistic it was for us to finish the activities in time and this man’s response was a mix of “I’m not gonna give you homework because that was too stressful last semester” (mind you, he only graded our lesson plans in time ONCE) and “This is the real workflow of the Real World. This is how you’re gonna be working” and “We could also meet at 6 p.m. if you want, but I guess some of you may work, right? I don’t know. maybe you also just want to relax” Like no shit sherlock, you are not our only class. We’re not complaining about the workload, we’re complaining about the stupid time restriction. And at this point, I was just ready to ask if what he cared about was quantity over quality because that’s what it looked like.

At the end, he said “JUST for today all of you have the complete grade for all activities.” even though most of us only got to starting the 2nd activity by the time the class was over.

It’s frustrating to see teachers do the exact thing they tell you not to do in your classes and pretend it’s justified because hahah they are so hard-working and have so many degrees and studies and they are experienced so they know what they are doing and they can never be wrong because, again, they have more experience than you :))) like, shut up about yourself and just teach the damn topic, please and thank you.

The only logical reason I can think of why he changed the dynamic from last semester is that he’s still hurt by one of my classmates saying that they didn’t like one of his activities. lmao.

#personal #excuse my negativity #I'm moderately angry now #he was so condescending #saying we aren't ready for the real world like some of us haven't been working since high school or even younger #like he really said that teachers working at x place had it sooo easy KNOWING fully well that some of his students in this class work there #just awful #0/10 would not recommend #see you in the teacher evaluation week (:#because I'm not giving you any points and I will be submitting a report at the end of the semester if he keeps that nasty attitude #aNYWUSSY #I'm doing the rest of the activitie I didn't finish because I dont' trust this man #whe he says it's okay to not do them (:

7 notes · View notes

bssaz97 · 4 years

Text

Rowan’s Trip To Beacon (...Sorta) #2

-Beacon Academy (Volume 2 Time)-

Rowan: So do you all believe me when I say that I’m Ruby and Jaune’s future son?

Ren: Well given how you have been able to back up all of your claims, I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t trust you.

Weiss: I’ll have to agree. Despite the complexity of it all...what you’ve said so far is true.

Rowan: Great! Now could we go see Headmistress Goodwitch?

Blake: Actually that’s something I want to ask you about. Why do you want to speak to Goodwitch of all people? Wouldn’t you want to speak to Headmaster Ozpin?

Rowan: Yeeeeeaaaah no. I don’t personally have anything against the headmaster but he may try to, well, interrogate me.

Yang: ....And you think Goodwitch won’t?

Rowan: Don’t worry it’ll be fine. I know Miss Goodwitch, she’s one of the nicest people out there. *innocently smiles*

RWBYJNPR: .....

Nora: Are you sure about that?

Rowan: Yep. In fact here she comes right now. *points behind them*

The two teams look behind them and to their horror they do in fact see Professor Goodwitch walking straight towards them. Her expression was anything but welcoming though.

Rowan: Welp. We should probably go see if we can talk to her- Whoa!

Yang grabs the young boy and throws him into a bush hedge to avoid detection from the absolute livid Headmistress. She wasn’t sure why she did that, perhaps it was her familial instinct kicking in. Also they would have an easier time explaining ‘how their leaders destroyed the courtyard’ instead of ‘how their leaders destroyed the courtyard AND transported their future son to the present.’ It felt weird to think how Ruby managed to get married and have children before her, was SHE even married in Rowan’s time? Questions for later, right now they had to face the “Wicked Witch of Beacon”.

Glynda: *stops in front of them* Mr. Arc and Miss Rose, why am I not surprised by the fact that both of your teams are present at the scene of disaster?Perhaps you could care to explain what transpired in the time between now and the sound of a Bomb exploding the main courtyard! *She exclaimed irritably*

Ruby: Um...w-well...you see...w-what happened was-*figets under Goodwitch’s gaze*

Jaune: It’s my fault Professor! I was showing Ruby an experiment that I made in Dust Studies but it got out of hand. I’m really sorry!

Ruby: Wha-? Jaune what are you doing?! *whispers*

Jaune: Do you really want Goodwitch to know you snuck a possible bomb to Beacon? *whispers*

Ruby: No but I don’t want you to take all the blame! *whispers*

Jaune: Just trying to be a good friend. *whispers*

Goodwitch: You students should know, whispering is more effective when the person you are whispering about can’t hear you. *leans in*

Ruby/Jaune: .....crud.

WBYNPR: *facepalm*

Glynda: Well then, since Mr. Arc admitted to both of your involvement in all of this, I believe it’s only fair that you share in the consequences as well Miss Rose. Your honesty is much appreciated Mr. Arc.

Ruby: Yeah. Thanks Jaune. *sarcastically*

Jaune: Sorry. *hangs head*

Glynda: Now about your punishment. I believe since this is all your doing, you two will spend the remainder of this semester in detention. Along with this, you will have to write ten thousand word essay on the dangers of Dust misusage and why students should not think of it as toys. The essay shall be hand written, work cited by the library, and then turned into me personally during my office hours before the end of the month. Also this will be apart of both of your grades in my class. Am I to be understood?

Ruby/Jaune: Yes mam...

Glynda: Good. Now then you both should get started soon, as there are only two weeks left in the-

Rowan: Hello! *popping from out of the bushes*

Glynda: Good Gods! I mean-‘cough’ Can I help you?

Rowan: Actually you can. You see I was taking a tour with my dad who works as a janitor here but I lost track of him. Could you help me call him for me please? *takes out his scroll with his best innocent face*

Glynda: ...I suppose I don’t see any harm in it. Although I should let you know that your father will have a stern talking with me about leaving children unattended at this school. Also that taking ‘tours’ without my or the Headmaster’s consent is highly frowned upon.

Goodwitch takes Rowan’s scroll, when she takes a look at the device she gains a confused face.

Glynda: Strange... I wasn’t made aware that they were making new models for Scrolls.

Rowan: Actually this a prototype I won in a contest. I’m supposed to be beta testing this one before they announce the new models later on.

Glynda: Oh I see. *nods* Although could you tell me how to select the Call function, this new design is very... foreign to me.

Rowan: Sure thing. *Gets it front of her and puts on some shades* Just hold down that red icon and let go after three seconds.

Glynda: Thank you. You’re quite a polite young man if I do say so-

*FLASH! (Neuralizer Sound FX)*

Both teams saw that a bright light flashed in Professor Goodwitch’s face, and now she had a blank expression on her face. Rowan then takes off his shades to pockets them and then gently takes the scroll from her grasp.

Rowan: Boy that was crazy Miss Goodwitch! We just got done doing a late class experiment outside in the courtyard but things sorta got out of control when a fault box of SDC Dust was sent to the school. Luckily nobody was hurt so that’s a plus... but not so much for the courtyard. Although you’re just happy nobody was hurt and remember I’m a visiting student that won a contest to tour the school for the weekend and teams RWBY and JNPR are assigned to look after me. Also there’s no homework or for the weekend.

Glynda: *blinks* ....oh. Yes of course the contest I do recall. I apologize you had to experience that Rowan, our dust shipments are usually more careful about this. Mr. Arc, Miss Rose could you please escort this young man back to the dormitories, I believe we’ve had enough excitement for today.

Ruby: .....Uh ok? *looks confusedly at Goodwitch*

Jaune: Yeah Rowan...let’s get back to the dorms. *starts walking back towards the campus*

Weiss: Wait a minute. What about their essay?

Glynda: Essay? Miss Schnee, I understand your desire for academic success but I have not assigned any homework for this weekend. You all should take time to make preparation for the Vtyal Festival coming up instead of focusing so much on your grades. *she chastised*

Yang: Yeah Weiss-cream let’s back to the dorm so we can get ready for the weekend! *places her hand on Weiss’ mouth and pushes her forward*

Weiss: Mmphf!

-Team RWBY’s Dorm-

Ruby: What the heck did you do to Miss Goodwitch?!

Yang: Yeah one second she’s turning Rubes and Vomit Boy’s into chop liver and the next she leaves them off scot-free?

Weiss: Now she believes your some tourist at the school.

Rowan: Yeah I kinda figured you all wanted an explanation for that. Well to put it simply, I erased a portion of her memory.

Blake: You erased her memory?!

Rowan: Not all of it... just the last 25 minutes to be exact. More than enough time to cover over the incident that Mom and Dad caused and give her a new one to fill in the gap. So now Goodwitch is not mad at you guys, Mom and Dad don’t have write an essay and I can roam around without a second thought.

Weiss: .....you know I’m actually starting to believe that you have spent time with my brother.

Rowan: Ok to be fair it was Mr. Whitley’s idea to add the neuralyzer to my scroll. I didn’t consent or anything, just said if I was ever in a fix to use it sparingly. Plus I only can use it three times to per day otherwise it has to recharge.

Pyrrha: And you’re completely ok with erasing a poor woman’s memory?

Rowan: Not really, I try to avoid using it if I can but I kinda wanted to help Mom and Dad out of a tough situation. But you don’t have worry about that, she’ll be fine. The neuralyzer doesn’t cause any lasting damage..... I think.

RWBYJNPR: .....

Rowan: But in any case, I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future, or at least until someone from my time tethers me back. So in the meantime we should probably spend some time to relax and hang out. *lays down on Weiss’ bed*

Yang: I’m starting to like this kid.

Jaune: But before we do anything, there’s something we should probably establish before we have you go walking around. First, you should keep the part about being our kid a secret.

Rowan: Ok. Sounds like a good idea Dad. *nods*

Jaune: Also, you should probably stop calling us ‘Mom’and ‘Dad’. It’s gonna lead to a lot of weird questions.

Rowan: Ohhhh yeah, you’re probably right. Ok, anything else.

Jaune: Yeah the less we know about our future, the better. So nobody, and I mean EVERYONE in this room, should ask you serious questions about the future.

Rowan: *nods* Yeah I don’t wanna pull a Back to the Future and blip out of existence.

Ruby: Wait you know what Back to the Future is?

Rowan: Yep. You and Auntie Yang made it a point to watch Classic Movies when me and Summer grew up.

Ruby: ...who?

Rowan: Oh right I didn’t say. My sister’s name is Summer P- Rose 2nd. You named her after grandma.

Ruby: I.....wow. That’s...I don’t know what to say.

Rowan: *raises his hands* It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything yet. You still have A LOT of time before you even think about stuff like that.

Jaune: Ok you see this? *points at both of them* This is what I’m talking about. None of this ok, we don’t want to make anything more weird than it needs to be.

Rowan: Ok so keep my mouth shut. Got it! *gives a thumbs up*

Blake: Do you mind if I do ask something real quick?

Jaune: Wha-? Blake, we just established no asking about our future!

Blake: This isn’t a personal question. I don’t need to have my future told to me.

Jaune: ‘sigh’ Fine. Ask away.

Blake: Rowan, do the White Fang ever succeed in their mission of invading Vale?

RWY: BLAKE!

Jaune: The hell?! That’s not any better!

Blake: You said to not ask personal questions. This is a situational question, therefore it won’t effect my personal life. So Rowan, what happens?

Rowan: ... I’m not gonna tell you that. *serious tone*

Blake: What? Why?!

Rowan: Oh I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to find out about future events that may transpire now or later. So I’m sorry but no I’m telling you anything more than what I need to.

Blake: Rowan, this could be life or death!

Rowan: And if I did tell you, you would want to stop it. But what you don’t realize is that if I were to tell you any information regarding that, not only would that jeopardize my future but everyone else’s future also. Time is NOT something you want to mess around with, because things could get a lot worse by just changing the smallest thing about the timeline.

Blake: *looks away* ...I-I’m sorry Rowan I didn’t think-

Rowan: It’s ok. I get where you’re coming from, but trust me it’s better off this way.

Blake: Ok...

Jaune: Ok so does everyone agree not to ask too many questions about the future?

RWBYNPR: *nods*

Jaune: Great. Now then, Rowan why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself. You don’t need to go into many details, just your likes, dislikes and hobbies.

Rowan: S-Sure thing Da-Sorry! I mean Jaune. Um.... let’s see. *holds his chin in contemplation* Well as far as my likes go: I like to read comics, spend time with my family and friends, and hear stories about-well, both of your teams adventures. Which I guess hasn’t really started yet hehe.

Yang: Well I guess hero worship just runs in the family then. *looks at both Jaune and Ruby*

Rowan: Well you did tell me most of those stories Auntie Yang, so you are partially to blame. *laughs*

Ren: You mentioned wanting to become a huntsman before, any particular reason?

Rowan: Well to put it simply, I always looked up to huntsmen as role models for me. Not because they’re flashy or cool, well not completely. I decided to train to become a huntsman because they serve as beacons of hope for humanity and keep the dark forces of the Grimm at bay. So if I can help in that, if I can make sure that I can protect even one person and keep them smiling then it would be worth it.

Ren: *nods*

Nora: *gets up close* I just have one question for you and it means life or death.....pancakes or waffles?

Rowan: Pancakes duh? You made sure of that Auntie Nora.

Nora: *ruffles his hair* Yep he’s good!

Rowan: Anything else on your minds?

Ruby: Oh I got one! What’s your best memory with ‘Dad’ here? *points at Jaune*

Jaune: Really Ruby, didn’t we just established no calling us his parents?

Ruby: What you said nothing about his personal life.

Jaune: ‘sigh’ Fine. You get a pass, Rowan what’s your best memory of us?

Rowan: ......... *blank stare*

Ruby: Uh Rowan?

Rowan: Oh I’m sorry! I was just thinking, Hahahaha! Wow, best memory with Dad? Um, wow I-I mean there’s...so many memories I have of him it’s kinda hard to tell! Um.......uh......best m-memory? Uh, you know what it was probably that one time that me and him went to an amusement park and he took me on a roller coaster for the first time! Yep that was a great memory! *scratches the underside of his jaw*

Ruby: Oh...well that’s cool.

Rowan: Yeah it was awesome! Say do any of you know if the mess hall is still open because I’m starving actually! Guess time travel can make a kid hungry! *laughs nervously*

Nora: Yeah they should still be open. Ren you’re and I can take you if you want? *gestures to Ren*

Ren: Yes we wouldn’t mind taking you there.

Rowan: Cool! Sounds like a plan! Well... I’ll see the rest of you in a bit!

Yang: Hey Rowan, mind if I tag along?

Rowan: Sure I don’t mind. Anyone’s happy to come along if they want.

RWBJP: We’re fine.

Rowan: That’s ok! We’ll see you later!

The group of four leave to go to the mess hall to find something for the young boy to eat, leaving behind a silence in the room among them.

Weiss: I’m going to assume that we all know that he was lying about that last question.

Jaune/Ruby: Yup. *they nod*

Pyrrha: But that just begs the question. Why would he lie about something concerning Jaune? From his demeanor before, he seemed to have a close relationship with his parents. So why lie?

Jaune: That’s something I hope we can find out?

-Fin of #2-

Hope you all enjoy this next piece! Getting back into the groove of things, so I’ll start getting back to writing regularly. Thanks for all the support and hope you all have a great day! Stay safe and stay smart out there!

Also here’s the sound FX if you guys were wondering:

https://youtu.be/czI4d8ziaPA

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #lancaster child #rowan rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladona #nora valkyrie #lie ren #pyrrah nikos #time travel

41 notes · View notes

tirstyspngirl · 4 years

Text

The Family Business and Soccer

Febuwhump day 5: “Take me instead” Fandom: Supernatural TW: some verbal abuse

Word Count:

Tags: emotionally hurt Sam Winchester, hurt Dean Winchester, protective Dean, Dean takes care of Sam, John Winchester is an asshole

As Dean grew up, he learned how to read his dad’s moods. He knew when he could ask questions, he knew when Dad wanted to be left alone, and he certainly knew when he was about to explode on anything that stepped in his pathway. Dean learned how to read these moods so that he could keep his inquisitive brother, who didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, as far from their father as possible. Unfortunately, Dean wasn’t fast enough this time.

“But dad, you said we could stay til winter break. I still have a few soccer games before the semester ends.”

“You think your soccer games are important Sam? Hmm? You think soccer is more important than people’s lives?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Well it’s what I’m hearing. In fact I think you need to appreciate what we do a little more Sam. You’re coming with me on this hunt tonight?”

“Tonight?!” Sam squeaked. It was a school night. Dad had never taken him on a school night before. In fact Sam had only been on 2 hunts ever. Both were salt and burn cases for regular old vengeful spirits. According to Dean those were milk runs.

“You heard me. Go get ready, we leave in 10.”

“Yes, sir” Sam squeaked as he ran to the room he and Dean shared in the house they were renting. He needed to calm himself down before getting into that car with his father.

“Dad, wait. Take me instead.” Dean piped up. He was broadcasting an air of confidence, but Dean was shaking on the inside. Not only was he essentially standing up to his father when he was in a terrible mood, but he was contradicting his decisions. But Dean was way more terrified of something happening to Sammy because dad took him on a hunt far more advanced than Sam had ever experienced, and he was angry on top of it all.

“What?” his father snapped back.

“I said take me instead. Sammy is only 9 and has only been on a few cases. And both of them were for simple vengeful spirits being laid to rest. This is a poltergeist. They're way more violent and Sammy isn’t very experienced yet. I’ve helped you with a couple other poltergeists. I can definitely handle it.”

“It’s not about whether or not you can handle it, son. He needs to see that what we do is important.”

“Then we’ll show him. But I don’t think tonight is the night. He needs more training before going against such a violent spirit.”

“Fine. Let your brother know you’re coming instead. Be in the Impala in 5. We need to head out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Dean, let him know that attitude better be gone by the time we’re back or I’ll tan his hide.”

“Dean clenched his jaw at his father’s threat, but muttered out a “yes, sir” before following Sam to their shared room.

“Hey, Sammy. I told Dad to take me instead. So I want you to just finish up your homework, ok kiddo?”

“Wait, what? Dad is letting me stay?”

“Only cause I convinced him to. Keep the door locked and salted and keep the shotgun within reach ok? I gotta go. Oh and make sure you don’t say anything to dad except “yes, sir” or “no, sir” for the rest of the week ok? I don’t want him to take his bad mood out on you.”

Sam simply shook his head in acceptance and Dean ran out of the room.

________________________________________________________________

“Sam!” His dad yelled as he opened the front door 3 hours later. “Get over here and help me with your brother.”

Sam scampered out of his room towards the front door. Dean was leaning heavily on his father so Sam came up on Dean’s other side. Sam and his father managed to get Dean to his bed.

“Take care of him, Sam. He’s got a couple broken ribs and a mild concussion. He just needs to rest. Make sure he has what he needs.”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as John left the room, Sam began bustling around. He removed Dean’s shoes, helped him sit up and took off his jacket, he fluffed the pillows while Dean was still sitting up, got him under the covers once he laid back and he grabbed Dean a glass of water and some Tylenol. Dean was putting up with his brother’s ministrations, but he finally snapped when Sam kept trying to find ways to help out even after Dean was settled and clearly no longer in need of anything.

“Sam. I’m fine. I promise. Just got to bed.”

“Ok, Dean.” Sam retreated to his own bed after turning off the lights. He laid in bed for several minutes before he couldn’t hold in his guilt any longer.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“For what?”

“You weren’t supposed to go on that hunt. I was. But you went so I wouldn’t have to and now you’re hurt.” Sam was barely holding back his tears, but he had to stay strong. Dean didn’t like chick flick moments and if he started crying that’s definitely what this would turn into.

“Sammy, this isn’t your fault, and besides. It’s my job to protect you. If you went out there tonight, you probably would have been hurt too, and I just don’t want that to happen ok?”

“Ok, Dean.” Sam said. He still felt guilty. Sam didn’t care if he got hurt. Dean being hurt because he went in Sam’s place wasn’t ok.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Sam bolted out of bed, ready to help Dean with whatever it was he needed. “What do you need, Dean?”

“Climb in.” He said as he pulled back the covers for Sam to join him. When Sam just stared at him, a confused expression on his face, Dean reached out and pulled Sam’s wrist towards him until Sam finally started climbing into his bed.

“I’m alright, Sammy. I promise. I am not hurt because of you, ok? I went because I wanted to go.”

Sam nodded. He wasn’t quite there a hundred percent, but being cuddled up to Dean made him feel like everything was gonna be ok.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Sammy.”

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday5 #spn #Deanwinchestertakescareorsamwinchester #hurtdeanwinchester #emotionallyhurtsamwinchester

1 note · View note

lunatens · 4 years

Note

YES WE’RE BACK IN BUSINESS BOYS 😎 ok they weren’t really ✨essays✨ they were like. 250 word limit so i strUGGLed with that bc yaknow ✨hair flip✨ i the type of person who can go on and on and oooon about how loOoovelie i am im just 🥰🥰🥰🥰 perfect mwah you can have a kiss too 👄💄💋(EWIGNOREMEIMSOSORRY) AHH LUNA BUT U CAN DO IT!!!! 😤😤😤😤😤DID U HAVE A PRODUCTIVE SUNDAY? omggg i saw this like. idk meme/collection of twt posts that were like “”oh who?” “the boyz” “yeah but which boys?” “the ++

yeS HEEH BACK IN BUSINESS !!! also excuse the lack of emojis i am: on my desktop how tragic (also gonna put a read more thing lmao)

o yes!! sunday i moved back up north for my final semester of college !!!! so that was fun and nice hehe i’m happy to be back and school this week has been really good lol the stress and homework overload hasn’t started yet woooo

SGSKDJFBS THE BOYS MEMES THOSE SOUND SO GOOD!!!!! i think that would be v funny ;D (god not having access to emojis is killing me lmaooo like how am i supposed to express myself normally)

NO DONT CRYYY well i guess u can cry if its tears of joy hehehe but nO U ARE SWEET !!!!!!!!

also yes just. bang chan = beluga idk how else to say it. it’s just Him ok

LMAOOO IT’S OK it’s kinda funny HAHA i feel like i would definitely do that if i was an anon lol i’m glad you didn’t get too stressed or worried about it tho!!!!!!!

dw dw storm is still a rlly cool name even if it’s not real !! + i feel you lol luna’s not my real name either which is a tragedy tbh ;-; could’ve been sO COOL but whatever

AND YES PLS KICK ALL THE SENSE INTO YN BEFORE SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS OH NO (unless it’s too late.....:o) (also i was ALSO dying at the strikethrough through the eyes omg liek wHAT)

yeS ugh they’re so. good. just so good. svt wow. svt best boys omg

also dw i don’t mind if you ever wanna talk about politics to me lol i find them interesting!! i don’t always know a ton but i always like learning so don’t worry about bothering me if u ever wanna talk!! but also u don’t have to lol just so you know the Option is there

god yES exactly!!!! it’s so nice to just like. chill and do nothing yk? especially after busy busy school!!! DGJBRKJBNDJ THANK UUUU <33333 LOL SPELLING IS HARD SOMETIMES ik im usually good at spelling but the typos man i type to fast for my brain sometimes its really annoying. also maYHAPS IM THREATENING U O.o (i think it’s a water gun...? maybe???? hopefully lol i don’t wanna actually be violent) i’m glad you had a lovely night!!!! it’s nice to not be productive once in a while i did literally no homework today when i prolly shoudlve but oH WELL

sending u all my love (hehe svt reference) <333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 i wish i had heart emojis rn dang. pretend those were cute pink hearts ok anYWAYS goodnight ily!!!!!!

(also yes ofc u can still use sunflower!! it’s super fun and cute!!)

#ask #🌻 anon

1 note · View note

charmed-asylum · 5 years

Text

The Partners

The Partners, part one

Summary: Finn Cox had everything boy would ever dream of a hot cheerleader girlfriend, loved by everyone, and caption of his hockey team. So why is since Camille Dawson step into his life he starts to have second thoughts about everything

FYI: This part was over 15,000 words so it is gonna be split into two. Something I will like to thank lack of sleep, energy drinks, and a KILLER PLAYLIST. Also if you wanna chat let's chat you wanna say how bad it is well let me know you wannabe tag let me know

tagged: @weapinggwillowss @nottherightseason @strangerfictions @thewolfswriting @hauntors

2015

I look out again to the street, what to say. WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA SAY. Maybe that’s my problem. YOU GOTTA SAY SOMETHING BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Let me be clear. Be honest with me and with you. This isn’t gonna be that moment I run out in the rain and throw some shit around and she comes running. No. Maybe if I wasn’t such an ass and didn’t hurt her again. How stupid can I be to do that, again? This isn’t some love story some yuppy bull shit story. Life never like that. Two people didn’t just meet and then it was happy ever after. No, it wasn’t like that. Maybe this is the reason why. Perhaps it’s things like that have people disappointed. Because the reality isn’t like that. At the end of the day, people only dream and wish that they at least have a moment like this. And for some that moment last a lifetime. I look back into the rearview mirror and imagine you that first day. That was when that moment started for us, 4-period Sociology.

2011

He walked into the school with a sense of pride. Everyone gosh over and even ivy him. All the boys wanted to either be friends or be him and the girls well almost all of them wanted him and the ones that didn’t choose him as there passed. He was immune to it all. Yeah, he enjoyed the attention but it felt safe normal. People around the school called him Trophy Boy. Another thing that didn’t faze him. They all love and knew Finn.

The teacher, young long strawberry red hair freckles and green eyes, came in right after the bell. She was in a rush as her skirt wasn't in the right direction. She looked at the class and wrote her name, Ms. Milton. Finn looks at her as she calls out everyone's name. He glances at his side. His boys were sleeping of course. Trying to catch up from last night's party. Then he turned back to his estranged girlfriend, Nikkei who was texting whoever. " Ok class. So because your teacher left for maturity. I will be taking over. The rest of the semester. I calculated all she has done and the rest will be easy and fun but only if you work hard" Ms. Milton started to say.

He could not even think about class his mind was way too busy thinking about practice and making out with Nikkei later. " Lastly before the bell rings. I believe in teaching and testing a person different. For the last couple of weeks, I ask you to come to see me and do a questionnaire which I then decided to make groups of two. You and your partner would do a project for the end of our weeks together. Based on what you learn in the class. It simple paper which one could do. Then a presentation. This whole thing would be worth a good 50% of your grade" Ms. Milton says. She started to read the names of the partners.

He leans back and looks at the ceiling while reading the list." Last but not least this one I really can't wait to see. Uh, Finn Cox and Camille Dawson" she said looking around the class for the two. Finn was confused and caught off guard. He looked around to figure who his partner was. The name why did it sound so familiar. Then there it was the look. There she was sitting in front of the classroom. Staring right at him with her dark brown Bambi eyes. As if she was in a trance. The bell rings but she didn't move. Finn looks away then glanced back. She was by the teacher now. Talking. Finn quickly got his stuff and went. He stops before leaving and glance back to her. She was about five two flat and baggy clothes. That was two sizes big. Complaining trying to get out of it. No, the teacher said. Camille shook her head yes and walk right past him. He could not figure out why he knew her name. Why it felt so familiar.

Sitting on the cafeteria table with Nikkei between his legs. He looks at her. " Remember class. How Milton was all hyper and shit. Do you know anything about my partner, Camille" he said looking at her. Nikkei smile and started to laugh. " That loser. The mute teacher pet wet dream" she said polishing her nails. Kevin sitting across from Nikkei's smile. " I had her in my math class last year when she came here. She is smart. Got me a B+. I would have probably got an A but I kept using my homework for paper for my weed. And I heard that once during gym class. A couple of guys saw her in her bathing suit. Man" he says holding his hands up to pretend to be a pair of boobs. Finn shakes his head in disbelief. Her name. He knew he was missing something but what.

By the time he got home, his dad was in the living room watching college sports drinking bud light. " Finn your home" a voice said from the kitchen. Finn smiles and goes towards the kitchen. A woman in her early forties with shoulder-length brown hair stood by the kitchen counter cutting up potatoes. He came in and kiss her on the check. " What up mom" he says grabbing some potato chips. She smiled and mess up his hair. " You know I don't even like that question. Taking it day by day" she said drinking some tea. He looks at her. " School was good. That's what you're wondering right Or that practice was the same. Coach up my grill about being a better leader. Then put me on ice when I do what he asked. Oh yeah, some teachers gave me some big project worth 50% ma. With a ghostwriter as a partner", he said eating an apple. She smiled. She always wanted better for him especially a better girlfriend. After a little bit of time pass, he went to his room passing his dad still sitting down watching sports. With one thing now on his mind who is Camille.

Days past and still she was on his mind. Like a bad itch, he could not get rid of. They would be in class and she would be there but he wouldn’t. He would just look at her. Watch her talk just examine everything she did. The times when she knew something smart and she would smile to herself and move hair behind her ear. Even if there wasn't anything.

" Finn. Are you listening to me? It's been days and you just do nothing. What you on something" Nikkei says lending on his lap. He looks at her. He was outside his house on the grass. Smiling at her he says " Nothing. Just thinking. Mom not doing well. Just thinking". She rolls her eyes and looks at her phone. " So you're going to the party tomorrow right. I need you to come or I just look like a tease, Finn" she says looking at her makeup.

She was always about appearance the outer shell. He could never truly care about those things. The social system wasn't made by him. He was there and an active player. Was that what had him interested in her. She was as mysterious as a clear fog. She was part of this social system but she never allows that to make her. She did as she pleases and never mind a thing. Her group section table. But in reality, it wasn't just that.

She was by his locker in the boy's room. Standing there trying not to look at the guys walking around nude ignoring her. Finn smiled to himself as she stood there. She was dress differently than the other days plan black converse with big sweater black legs and her hair curly in a messy bun. Just waiting. He could not remember what they talk about though. She always had that effect. Most times he would just pretend to listen but it was like she was talking in English but he could only hear Korean. The short brief chat. Most he could get out of it was her apologize for being her. Him saying nothing. Of course. Meeting times. Then the number. She gave him her number. Then lastly the party. And just like that, she left. Mysterious.

Finn arrived at the party late. He felt out of place but still, he decided to go. He needed this party. Anyway, it was now more of a celebration of his latest win game he had. The idea of everything drifts off as the liquor and drugs settle in. He was finally his old self. Not a perfect child student and the obsessive of a ghost he was afraid he might become. Laying back he watches Nikkei dance with a few guys. He slowly fell into a high. " Yo Finn look at who here to see you. Looks like you got a stalker" a voice says. Finn opens his eyes time has passed. Nikkei was gone and he was chilling on the floor by people hanging. Getting up he walks over the balcony. It was her.

Out of her limit or comfort zone. Finn watches her. Looking around for him before he called for her. Again those brown eyes. She didn’t say a word but her eyes said it all" Surprise to see you here. Thought you be at some library" he said watching her walking closer to him. Trying to break the ice. Still, her eyes were on him. She didn't answer him. Those eyes. She paid him no mind and went to her bag to take out a pad and pen. Looking up to him not paying attention to what he said" Actually it took an hour of my Friday looking for the right house. Maybe playing loud music and having people trash outside could not have made it less noticeable" she stops and grabs out a tissue trying not to get a contact high " Anyway. If I have to do this to try to get you to work then so be it. Paper easy. I can do that all by myself but" she started to say. Finn cut her off." Look I know you're kinda weird and stuff but it's your kinda not invited. It's not for stalkers" he said scratching his nose still a little drunk. He could feel the frustration from her chest. She looks around trying to adjust what he said then look at him. Her eyes. Shaking her head she gets up. "I have better things to do too. You know what. I won't talk to a child. I was brought up not to judge people. At less not there face. Or the word from some twit. I... Drink this sober up and read the paper" she said then starts to walk away then she stops. She turned back around to him and got close, those eyes. " If you ever wanted to know who I was. Who I am. You could of ask instead of being the stalker yourself" she said then starts to walk away. And just like that, he felt the heavy load of crap. Stupid he thought to himself. Again he was hooked. He grabs at the paper, a bottle of water, and went to look for Nikkei.

When he finally found her she talking to some guy. She was laughing as the person she was talking to was her boyfriend and he was the watcher. He could hear himself arguing with her but he couldn't move. Anger rage full his body. He rushes over and punches the guy across the face. With blood on his hand, he got up and walked away. The Finn that keeps people talking to know not to mess with.

After that Friday night. She stopped talking to him. She even got it that the work she did was given to him by the teacher. He felt awful, no worst. What did she do? Nothing. He worried about her. I worried about the rumors that were going around. Worried if he was the cause of it. What if flowing around in his head. He tried every way to talk to her. Her locker making up a fake announcement. Nothing work.

After class, he decided to follow her around maybe find a way in. Somewhere she could not leave ignore him. After some snooping around some people informed him of one thing. One place he thought he would never go. He walked over to the guidance office. Last chance he thought to himself. Walking in was like walking around a library nude everyone's eyes was on you. He walked into the conference room. People were all sitting in a circle talking. She was there in the center listening. He slowly sat in the back. "So Camille. How did your assignment go a couple of weeks ago? Did it work? Were you able to interact with the partner" the guidance counselor said looking at her. She glanced at him. As if they were the only two that knew a big secret. Rubbing her hands on her knees. She looks around the group. " Well, when I got the assignment. I thought this can be my chance for trying to talk interact with others. Someone out of here. Of course. Try to get better. But all I realized is I was right with staying to myself. I did as you told me and went to the party. He was drunk. After a disagreement we had. I started to go. His friends were downstairs laughing at me. Chanting mean things then started pushing me around. Tugging at my clothes. Some even threw drinks at me. I was able to make it out but my phone died. I had to walk four miles home. All the time thinking. I tried. And this happened" she said still looking at him. He could feel her frustration. She leans back. Still her eyes on him. " Before you ask. No, it was the name-calling. Harassment. Even my phone died. What not that bugs me. Upset me. It never does. Or the fact this guy I never talk to calling me things. That is not true. But that I was able to move past it with no emotions. Numb to it. As an outsider, you see things the truth barefoot true. I still want to try thou again for my family and you guys" she said finally looking away. He was speechless. One girl looks at her. " What about for yourself" the girl asked. She looks at the ground then at him. " We see" she said. Everyone looks at him. Silence a few whispers. It was the first time they realize an uninvited stranger was listening in. She smiled. " But that what I said about gym class. Ms. Tyler, it's time" she said getting up looking around. Ms. Tyler rushes up from that deep story. They all hold hands together and pray.

He waited outside by the door for her. He didn't know what to do but he was running low on ideas. " Lost someone"a voice said from behind him. He turned around to see her standing there holding tight to her books. " Huh" he said surprised by the comment. She tilts her head and smiles. " Our group is for people that had lost someone. A tragic, broken heart, and so on. Some are lucky. The only person they lost is themselves" she said with a frown. He shocked his head. " I want to see you. Well, we saw each other in class but alone. I was an ass that Friday. Hate myself for what I did. I guess... I was just making sure we are still partners and say I'm sorry" he said looking away from her. He could not see her but he could feel the nod. " I lied in there. Finn. I lied. What you did hurt. We are told to treat others away we want to be treated. Give respect but you just... I forgive you. But this won't fix it. Thanks for following me to my locker reading the club board. I can see your effort. Just like how I did with you. I bet you didn't even read my paper. I gave you" she said and walk away. He stood there stunned by her comeback. She was right. He didn't try that much. He was more worried about the grade, not her.

Finn sat on the floor he pulled out the essay she wrote and started to read it. It was good no perfect. Stupid Rushing back into the office. Ms. Tyler was still packing up her things. " Hi. Ms. Tyler. I was wondering if I can ask you something" he asked. She looks up at him. Her glass almost off her nose. " Yes. Mr. Cox. What is it today" she said. He looks down at the paper then at her. " Camille gave me her address but it is missing a house number. Can you give me her address, please? It's important" he said. It took a few more minutes of begging and sweet talk but he got it. His last try and this time it was all or nothing.

14 notes · View notes