#I just had midterms and ate real food don’t worry. I’m better now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marveloussupernerd · 3 years

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Packing - TsukiYama

Hello ! Midterms finally ended and I am just: suffering. But I wanted to put something out and this came into my brain the other day

Warnings: Tsukki swears bc it’s Tsukki

Summary: Tsukishima & Yamaguchi have a fight. Swear it isn’t too much angst and you won’t be like depressed by the end (this takes place in the future btw)

“Tsukki, I’m home!” Yamaguchi yelled as he walked through the front door, shutting it behind him and slipping off his jacket to hang it in the closet.

Tsukki bounded down the stairs of their shared home to meet his fiancée at the door. “Missed you.” He pulled Yams into a hug. “How was your day at work?”

“Eh,” He shrugged. “It was fine. It wasn’t the best Thursday I’ve ever had.” His eyes lit up. “Hey! Do you have any plans this weekend? Practices or work meetings or anything?”

Tsukki paused to think. “Believe it or not, I’m actually completely free. Why? Hinata wants to go on another double date?”

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes, pushing the taller man playfully. “Noooo. I just wanted to spend time with you. Without having to be stressed about anything.”

“Not even wedding planning?”

Yamaguchi motioned that he was zipping his lips. “I won’t even say a thing about wedding planning this weekend. Just some chill time for us. I think it’ll be nice.”

“Does sound nice.”

Yamaguchi tilted his head up slightly to kiss his fiancée on the lips, then bounded up the stairs, calling “I’m gonna get changed real quick!” as he did so. All Tsukki could do was shake his head and laugh at how cute he was.

Yamaguchi took off his dress clothes, absolutely wiped out and more than happy to get out of the itchy collar of his shirt. He went to throw the shirt into the hamper, only to see it still missing. “Tsukki!” He called. “Did you get the clothes washed today?”

“Huh?” His fiancée called back from downstairs. “Oh, shit I forgot. I’m sorry.”

He froze. Damn. He was running out of dress clothes to wear to work. He had things, just not anything he liked wearing, not anything comfortable. It was unfortunate.

Tsukki bounded up the steps, making Yamaguchi jump with his voice so nearby. “I don’t think you heard me. I forgot, I’m sorry Yams.”

Yamaguchi glanced towards the man now standing in the doorway and took a deep breath. This really wasn’t the end of the world, just today being so bad at work made things seem worse than they were. “It’s okay!” He cheered back. “If you put the laundry bag in my car I can do it after work tomorrow.”

“No! I can still do it. I just forgot today. I’m sorry.” Tsukki was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. It clearly hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“But I can-“

Yamaguchi chuckled slightly. It was... slightly off. Was he getting irritated? Not even he could tell. “I mean, you were supposed to do it Tuesday, then forgot. Then Wednesday. Then today. Just let me do it? I’m running out of nice shirts to wear to work.”

“I’m sorry Yams. I genuinely forgot,” Tsukki frowned, making his way over to the other boy.

“No, it’s not your fault. I have to do laundry way more often than you. In fact, we can just split it up so I do my own and you do your own? That way you don’t have to go more often than you need to.”

He frowned even harder. “No-“

“It’s okay.” Yamaguchi forced a smile. “I understand wanting to be independent. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

He left the room without another word, leaving Tsukishima speechless in their bedroom. What just happened? It felt like this was a step back.

Yamaguchi came back a minute later, laundry bag in hand, dumping it out and getting to work separating the couple’s clothes into different piles. He did so meticulously, making sure not even a sock would end out in the wrong pile. Tsukishima made no effort to stop him nor to help him. He still was confused as hell.

They ate dinner in absolute silence. What was either of them supposed to say? It seemed like the other actually wanted this. Were they really fighting over this? It sucked.

Yamaguchi didn’t let himself cry until he got into the shower, sitting on the floor and letting the water fall over his head. What had he done wrong? Was the wedding stuff too overwhelming? Now Tsukki didn’t even want to share laundry machines.

“Tadashi.” Yamaguchi snapped his head up to see his fiancée at the shower door, holding a towel in his hand. How long had he been sitting in the shower? How long had Tsukki been here?

“I...” what could he even say?

“You okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

He bit his lip. Hard. Trying not to let it wobble or let out a sob or to even let any tears fall. He stood up and turned off the water, staring at his fiancée and nodding.

“Nice try.” Tsukishima wrapped the towel in his arms around his boyfriend’s figure. “What’s wrong?”

Yamaguchi started to dry off, not able to meet the other man’s eyes. “You don’t even want to share your laundry with me...” he mumbled.

“No, of course I do. You’re the one who separated them.”

“You didn’t stop me.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry. I was very confused in the moment. Are you really okay?”

Yamaguchi nodded half-heartedly. “I’ll be okay. Just work really sucked and it made thing even worse.” He got changed into his pajamas, shaking the excess water out of his hair, then climbed into bed.

Tsukishima climbed in next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Yamaguchi nodded. Tsukki didn’t make any effort to hold him or cuddle like they usually did before bed, but still, feeling his warm breath against his neck was enough to lull him to sleep.

Yamaguchi was at work before Tsukishima had even woken up, which was pretty surprising. Usually they at least got to see each other in the mornings. Yamaguchi always would make a lunch for Tsukishima and write him a cute little note. He wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t one today. He hadn’t realized not doing laundry was a big deal, but clearly it was a build-up of a few other things, and he felt really bad. He had wanted to apologize this morning, but that didn’t seem to happen.

Well, the least he could do was send a text to Yamaguchi.

I’m sorry for missing you this morning. And if I upset you last night. I love you and hope you have a good day

Aaaand now he was running late because he was stuck in his thoughts. He hurried to grab his laptop and his lunch, thank God Tadashi had made him one, and rushed out the door.

Half the day at work his eyes were trained on the lunch. Would there be a message? And why wasn’t Yamaguchi texting him? Hopefully it was just because he was busy.

When it was time for his break, Tsukishima practically leapt out of his seat to grab his lunch, opening it and shifting the food around to look for a note.

Got it!

Happy Friday! Hope you have a great day :)

Oh thank goodness. He let out a giant sigh of relief he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Were his eyes seriously watering? That was ridiculous. Tadashi wouldn’t stay mad at him for something like that; he really was the best.

Just got on lunch break. Hope you’re having a good lunch <3

That was kind of a cheesy message, but he was very relieved and very much so in love. As long as nobody ever saw it but Yamaguchi it would be okay.

Yamaguchi must’ve had a really busy day. He’d usually reply with something cute, but this time he just loved the message. Well, at least he knew he had seen it.

Something felt weird though. This never happened. He never left for work early. He always replied during his lunch break, and if his break came earlier than Tsukki’s he would text him first.

Well... it was probably nothing.

Yamaguchi’s car was in the garage when Tsukishima got home. Yams usually got home later than him... hopefully that meant today went better at work for him.

“Yamaguchi! I’m home!” He called, making his way through the door.

Silence.

He went to the kitchen, but his fiancée wasn’t there. Outside? Nope. Up in the bedroom?

What?

“T-Tadashi?” He uttered out. There was Yamaguchi, bulky headphones over his ears, shoving clothes into a suitcase.

Yamaguchi’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “Oh!” His face was bright red. “Tsukki, I didn’t know you’d be home yet...” he slipped the headphones off his ears to focus on the distraught man standing over him.

“W-wait. What are you doing?” He knew something was off. He was an idiot for thinking things would be okay.

“Packing?” The man on the floor shrugged. Well yeah, that was obvious enough.

“I... don’t.”

“Hand me that shirt behind you,” Yamaguchi prompted him. Tsukishima looked behind him, eyes trained on one of Yamaguchi’s comfy t-shirts.

“I don’t want to.” He pouted.

Yamaguchi chuckled. “God, you’re such a pain.” He stood up and walked past his fiancée to grab the shirt. Tsukishima grabbed him in his arms as he past, trapping him.

“Tsukki,” he whined, shuffling to get out of his grip.

“No, no, no.” He held him tighter. “I’m not letting you go.” His words caught in his throat. This was stupid. How did Tadashi not realize it was just something stupid!? Had things been building up for a while now and he was too stupid to realize it? His grip tightened even more.

“I can’t breathe. I give in! I won’t move.”

Tsukki, sighed, feeling Yamaguchi relax in his arms, and loosened up a little.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing the laundry.”

“It’s okay! We can just do them separate from now on-“

“No!” He shrieked. “I don’t wanna. I wanna do my laundry with yours.”

“Huh? I thought you didn’t.” Yamaguchi seemed genuinely confused.

“No, no. You made that stupid suggestion. I wanna go to the drycleaner’s every week just to get your comfy shirts washed for work. Just... let me.”

“Well, in my defense, I’ve been trying to let you but you keep forgetting.”

“I’m sorry.” His grip was tightening and he could tell. He couldn’t help it. He was afraid if he let him go now he’d never be able to hold him again. “I’ll do it right this time.” His voice was shaky. He was scared.

“Why are you so upset over laundry?” Yamaguchi laughed—a genuine laugh—his chest shaking and giving Tsukishima butterflies, which he definitely didn’t deserve at the moment.

“You’re- you’re fucking packing Tadashi.” He let the boy go, folding his arms in front of him.

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to find out this way.”

Why was he smiling!? What kind of a sick joke was this? He felt seriously ill. Was today backwards day? April Fools? Did he forget something?

Yamaguchi’s smile faded. “You okay? You look sick?”

“No, I’m not okay,” Tsukishima whimpered, tears brimming in his eyes. “Why are you smiling? And laughing? Do you even like me? Was it just some stupid joke to get with me?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you.” Tsukki grabbed the shirt behind him and threw it towards the suitcase. He walked off towards the bathroom. He was gonna throw up. He should be begging for him to stay, but his stupid attitude came up and now Tadashi’s probably even more upset.

“Tsukki!” He felt the back of his shirt being pulled back. He turned to face him. “I feel like I’m missing something, Tsukki. Are you mad that I couldn’t text you today? We had management come in...”

“Huh? Why would I be mad.”

“You seem very mad...” he replied, eyes trailed on the ground.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“Huh? No. I’m just confused.”

Tsukishima was speechless. What was he missing here? “Why are you packing a bag?”

“Weekend together? I was able to get a flight to a beach and... I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be fun. Do you have work or something? Did I mess it up?” Yamaguchi was fiddling his thumbs as he spoke, clearly nervous by his fiancée’s attitude.

“You idiot.”

“Hey!” He pouted. “It was going to be a surprise but you got home early.”

“I thought you were mad at me about laundry and you were leaving.”

“Leaving leaving? Why would I have written you a note for your lunch then?”

Tsukki frowned. “Well... I don’t know. I was confused.”

“I’m sorry.” Yamaguchi wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s neck, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. “Do you still wanna go? We don’t have to.”

“You scared me to death. Yes I wanna go.” He wrapped his arms around Yamaguchi’s waist, keeping him close. “Jesus, Tadashi. ‘Really scared me there.”

“I didn’t mean tooooo! I was confused too.”

Tsukishima picked him up, placing kisses all across his face, causing the shorter boy to giggle.

“Tsukki! We have to pack for the flight!” He squealed between giggles.

“When’s it leave?”

“Th-three hours!”

“Ugh, fine.” He dropped his boyfriend unceremoniously. “But to be continued when we get to the hotel, ‘Kay?”

“You better actually help me pack this time.”

He rolled his eyes at his fiancée. “Duh. Shut up you idiot. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tsukki.”

#haikyuu #tsukiyama #tsukkiyama #tsukishima kei #Yamaguchi Tadashi #fluff #I love this ship Sm

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haberdashing · 4 years

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Hidden Away

Statement of Riley Parker regarding a hide-and-seek game played on their college’s campus.

on AO3

Statement of Riley Parker regarding a hide-and-seek game played on their college’s campus. Original statement given April 13th, 2019. Recording by Artemis Lee, archival assistant for the Usher Foundation.

Statement begins.

I think it’s important to start off by saying that this was a Saturday night, midterms had just ended, and most of us were drunk. I think that explains a lot of what we were thinking here. I know hide-and-seek is seen as a kid’s game, but when you’re hanging on campus with your friends, you’re bored, and you just want to let off some steam after a week of grueling exams... sometimes you get creative.

I wasn’t drunk, though. I don’t drink, never have. Alcoholism runs in my family, and I figured the best way to avoid it is to just not drink in the first place. Not that it’s really anyone’s business why I don’t drink, but when people get snotty about it, explaining that usually makes them back off a bit.

Crystal, though--Crystal Wheeler is her full name--she’s the one who suggested it, and she was drunk as a skunk at the time. Luis Vasquez was the one who suggested Old Bailey as the playing ground--he was drunk too--and it wasn’t long before we all went over there and started figuring out the rules.

There were eight of us playing--myself, Crystal, Luis, AJ, Bowie, Ben, Nessie, and Red; I could give you last names for everybody, but I really doubt they’d be of much help. The rules were simple: find a spot in Old Bailey and hide in it, wait for the seeker to find you, first one found is the seeker next if there’s time to play again, last one found gets bragging rights, leaving Old Bailey means you’re kicked from the game for good.

Old Bailey isn’t called that because there’s another Bailey to confuse it with, but because it’s really old--like, early 1800s old, oldest building on campus by far. It gets whatever classes or activities can’t fit somewhere else, pretty much, but for such a big building in the middle of campus, it’s really not used that often. And most importantly for our game, it’s got a lot of little nooks and crannies hidden away in it.

Ben volunteered to be the first seeker, and he gave us a full minute to go find our hiding spots since we needed time to be able to get there, and maybe even to figure out where it was we wanted to hide.

I knew where I was going the instant I started running, though. There’s a little room on the far end of the building from where Ben was counting that the choir uses for practice sometimes--I’m not in choir myself, but I found out about it when I helped them carry equipment in one time. The door to it’s kind of hidden away off to the side of a lecture hall, so unless you know it’s there, you’d probably pass by it and not even notice.

Once I got in the room, I noticed a wardrobe in the corner of the room, and when I opened it it turned out to be empty, so I had no doubt I’d be able to fit in it easily, if not comfortably. I climbed inside, got as comfortable as I could, and looked down at my glow-in-the-dark watch, which was already ticking away.

Tick. Tick. Tick. 12:01 AM. One minute passed. The seeker could stop counting and start looking.

I wasn’t worried about being the first one found. Even if Ben knew about this spot, it was on the wrong end of the building for that. I figured I had several minutes at least to hang in there, watch the clock, peer out through the slits in the doors to see if anyone was coming.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Thirty minutes passed.

Ben’d probably be getting close now, I figured--though I didn’t hear him, so maybe not, maybe I had a bit longer to wait. We’d never done this before, so it’s not like I had any real idea of how long it’d take. And like I said, it was a big building.

I started to wish I’d brought my phone with, but then, knowing my luck, it’d probably make some noise and give my spot away at exactly the wrong time. As it was, my watch seemed loud enough, though maybe that was just because there wasn’t anything else to make noise in there.

Tick. Tick. Tick. One hour passed.

I was getting a little achy--the wardrobe had enough room for me but not much to spare, so I was just standing inside it in kind of an awkward position, without much room to fidget around in there.

I had to be one of the last ones left, right? Maybe I’d even be the winner.

I could put up with a few aches and pains for a bit longer if it meant getting to lord it over my friends for ages to come.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Hour and a half passed.

This was getting ridiculous. My nose itched, and I had to pee, and I was bored as hell, and I hadn’t heard one single person come by this entire time.

Had they forgotten about me?

No, of course not. We were friends. They probably just overlooked the door to the room altogether. It was easy enough to do, after all.

...when I won the game, I was making them buy me food afterwards.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Two hours passed.

I kept coming back to the thought that my friends had forgotten about me, forgotten about the game entirely, forgotten that I was still hidden away in my little nook in Old Bailey. I didn’t want to believe it, but what else was there? Could two hours of searching really not be enough to find this room? I still hadn’t heard so much as a single footstep.

Then I started to wonder what would happen if that was the case. How long would it take for people to notice I was missing? Would somebody come use the room before then?

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t checked whether I could get out of the wardrobe before stepping inside. What if I was trapped in there? What if it was locked? I could still see the room outside through those slits in the door, but I think I started hyperventilating a bit, because the air didn’t feel right in my lungs, and I wondered if the slits weren’t big enough, if I was going to suffocate to death in there and nobody would ever know-

It was exactly 2:36:13 according to my watch when I opened the wardrobe from the inside, taking a deep breath as I stepped out into the room beyond; the air wasn’t exactly fresh in there, but it was damn well better than inside the wardrobe, anyway.

I still didn’t hear a sound beyond the tick of my watch and my own breathing and heartbeat, but just getting out was enough to calm me down a little, convince me that I wasn’t going to die forgotten in an old choir wardrobe. Still, it took a few minutes before I got my bearings enough to start wandering around.

The part of me that just figured I was really good at hide-and-seek finally shut up for good when I opened the door to the choir room and entered the giant lecture hall it was connected to and still heard nothing. There was no way that seven mostly-drunk college kids searching for someone in an echo-y old building wouldn’t be making some kind of noise, but I couldn’t hear a thing. Not from people, anyway; I focused enough that I heard the hum of the electric lights, noticed a few gurgles from the plumbing system when I got a drink of water and stopped in the bathroom, but nothing that came from other people. I even looked down at the carpet to see if I could make out any footprints, but no such luck.

I walked... well, really it was more of a jog, to the other side of the building, where we’d all left our bags and phones and stuff just before the game started, but the only stuff there was mine. My phone wouldn’t turn on, even though I thought it’d still had 70% battery when we started, but at that point I wasn’t even surprised. I did, however, have a couple hard candies still buried in my bag--I tend to keep some kind of candy around just in case, especially since Nessie lives two doors down and she’s diabetic--and I ate one, thanking my past self for being so considerate.

The tiredness set in all at once, it seemed like. I’d chugged an energy drink while most of my friends were chugging alcoholic drinks, so it might’ve just been that wearing off, but suddenly I didn’t want to bother dragging myself back to my dorm and plugging in my phone and doing everything else I’d need to do before going to bed, I just wanted sleep, now. I saw some sort of a teacher’s lounge with a couch in it, and fuck, it wasn’t even an especially nice couch, just a beat-up old yellow thing that was lumpy as hell, but at that point it might as well have been sent by the gods as far as I was concerned.

I don’t remember the exact time, but I know it was a little after 3 according to my watch before I managed to get some sleep in.

When I checked my watch upon waking up, it was 9:47, the sun was shining, and I still didn’t hear a peep. Which didn’t surprise me that much, really--obviously my friends had ditched me, and I’d give them hell for it later.

But then I passed by a window. It was a beautiful day out, the sun was shining, the trees were swaying gently in the wind... and there was nobody outside.

Nobody rushing to or from the cafeteria. Nobody heading to or from their car. Nobody walking their dog, or feeding the feral cats on campus, or playing ultimate frisbee, or any of the usual things people would do on a nice Sunday morning. I didn’t even see any squirrels scampering about, and those things are usually all over campus.

My mind went to... some weird places there. Wondering if I’d missed the apocalypse or something. Maybe the Rapture. Not that I’m religious, but hell, what else was there?

I had the rest of my hard candies at that point, though that wasn’t quite enough to fill my stomach on its own. Just needed something to get my mind off things, I think, some kind of distraction.

I looked back at the lounge where I’d slept, figuring I’d make a note of it for later, maybe even thank the professor who took care of the spot for putting the couch there... I remember it was room 165, but there was no name on the door. Not a plaque, not a carving, not even a piece of paper saying the professor’s name.

There was a desk next to the couch, and I looked at the papers on it, not because it really mattered who this professor was in the greater scheme of things but because I just wanted to know, but all the papers were blank. Just ordinary white printer paper, stacked haphazardly on a desk to look like a normal professor’s workspace if you didn’t look too closely.

Not going to lie... I think I had a bit of a panic attack when I saw that. It just didn’t make sense, even with my half-formed theories about the apocalypse or the Rapture or whatnot. It wasn’t that everybody had vanished--it was more like nobody had ever been there to begin with, or that every sign of their existence had vanished with them except the building of Old Bailey itself. There was just me and my bag and that was it. Me against the world.

I really wish I’d brought my charger with me that night.

Then I figured, well, lights had worked fine the night before--and I flipped one on now, confirmed they were still working--so I might as well make my way back to my dorm room, charge my phone, get out my laptop, figure out what the hell it was I’d clearly missed. Leaving Old Bailey was still technically losing the game of hide-and-seek that I’d rightfully won, I guess, but that had long since stopped mattering to me. If I couldn’t have my friends with me, I at least wanted to know what happened to them.

According to my watch, it was 10:18 when I finally stepped outside Old Bailey.

The instant I stepped outside I heard a loud noise and I flinched, panicked a bit, covered my ears. It took me a minute to realize what the noise was.

It was my friends, all seven of them, standing outside the main door to Old Bailey, shouting my name. There was a police officer there, too; apparently they’d called him when I vanished, thought I might have gotten stuck somewhere. Guess they weren’t entirely wrong.

It was dark out, though. And according to all of their phones and watches and whatnot, it was only 2:36 in the morning, though my watch still showed that it was well after 10 AM.

The next time I went back in that building--with Red in tow, because I was not going back alone--I checked on what I remembered from my time in there. Not only could I not find the couch, I couldn’t find room 165; the numbers only go up to 149 before skipping to the 200s, apparently. The wardrobe was gone, too, and when I asked some choir kids about it, none of them remembered it being there.

There’s no big moral to this story, I don’t think, no way to tie it all up in a knot. I’ve always had a bit of an issue with anxiety, and that’s even worse now, as you might imagine. If I’ve learned anything, it’s just that the world is even weirder and scarier than I had imagined, and I could do without that knowledge, thanks. All I know is I’m never going back to Old Bailey alone, and I’m never playing another game of hide-and-seek in my life.

Statement ends.

#tma #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #statement fic #personal #my writing

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spectralscathath · 4 years

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Skinny Vanilla Latte

Mikaela is the world's nicest customer, and Yuu's heart absolutely Does Not go 'doki doki' whenever he comes into the cafe for his standard order. Anyone who says otherwise is entirely incorrect. (Mikayuu but Coffee Shop AU)

Commissioned Mikayuu oneshot for @fyrecrackeruwu

Ao3 link, ff.net link

“Peppermint mocha, extra whip, for Lacus!” Yuichiro called out, trying to remember his customer service smile even though he knew his eyes said ‘I’ll kill you’ to every person in the café. Narumi just had to go and get a new job, like the traitorous bitch he was. Being a lifeguard wasn’t even a real thing.

Narumi’s absence left the Moon Demon Café down a barista, and because Shinoa and Kimizuki were banned from interacting with the general public, Yuu had been the only one they could shunt from the kitchen into front of house.

Fuck this job. If he didn’t need it so badly he’d have tossed his apron in Guren’s stupid face to get rid of the shitsmug smirk.

“Hi, welcome to the Moon Demon Café,” he turned to the next customer. “What can I-” oh my god. Don’t pause keep talking. “… I get you today?”

Holy SHIT someone call Heaven because an angel had gone missing. Seriously, the customer standing on the other side of the counter was the prettiest guy Yuu had ever seen. Not to be corny on main, but this was the first time Yuu had ever thought ‘eyes like sapphires, hair like spun gold’ had ever felt like actually applicable metaphors for someone.

“A skinny vanilla latte, please?” Pretty Boy said with the utmost politeness, and Yuu remembered that breathing existed and so did brain functions.

“Of course, can I interest you in any of our specials today?” He put on his best grin, writing down the coffee.

“No thank you, just the coffee.” Pretty Boy kept smiling, already having his card ready to pay because clearly this guy was Mr Perfect Customer.

“Sure thing, can I get a name for this order?” He barely held back from tacking a pet name onto the end, but he managed. Someone get him a medal.

“Mikaela. Mika works though, please don’t try spell ‘Mikaela’.” Pretty Boy- Mika’s- smile became slightly glassy, with the wartorn eyes of someone who’d had consistent misspellings of their name throughout their life.

“Mika it is,” Yuu grinned at him and scrawled it down. “I’ll have that ready for you in a jiffy.” Why the fuck did he say ‘jiffy’.

Mikaela snorted, bringing a hand up to cover his smile. “Sure thing.”

Yuu smiled and started up the coffee grinder, his cheer instantly evaporating away when he heard the sound of an empty grinder. Where were the coffee beans kept again? Shinoa better not have moved their location to fuck with him.

“It’ll be just a sec,” he forced a grin at Mika, getting a shrug in return. Customer seemed chill, cool. He reached under the counter to find empty air, instantly ducking down to check. Nothing but coffee residue from the bags. Welp.

“Hey, Kimizuki?” He yelled at the back.

“What?!”

“Where’d the coffee get moved?”

“You think I know?! Figure it out yourself, dumbass! I’m cooking!”

Yuu’s eye twitched and he counted to ten in his head to prevent himself from leaping through the overpass to wring Kimizuki’s neck. “Of course,” he grumbled. “Let me just pull some coffee beans out of my ass, that’s how we run things here.”

There was a soft chuckle and Yuu blanched, realising that shitfuck his sarcastic grumbling might have been a little too audible. He whipped around. “Uh- sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Mika hid his laughter behind his hand again, blue eyes glittering like sapphires. “No no, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

Yuu relaxed a little bit, kinda starstruck by the mirthful twinkle in those eyes. “I’ll just find you the coffee, give me a moment.” He spun around, hunting through every cabinet he could until he managed to find a dark roast with ‘hi Yuu’ scrawled on it in purple glittery ink. Shinoa and her fucking gel pens.

He started making the coffee properly this time, mentally promising that he would commit first-degree murder and get away with it the minute Shinoa showed her rat face again. He waited for the coffee machine to do the job and wrote Mika’s name on the takeaway cup, pausing before thinking to himself ‘fuck it’ and adding his phone number. He was gonna take the shot, especially since Mr Gorgeous had laughed at his sarcasm.

He finished putting it all together and smiled as he handed it over. “Skinny vanilla latte for Mika.”

“Thank you,” Mika grinned and pulled out a cup sleeve, slipping it onto the cup and completely hiding Yuu’s number. Yuu’s smile cracked. Fuck.

“Uh-” But Mika was already walking away after dropping change in the tip jar.

“Thank you!” He waved goodbye, the door closing behind him with a little jingle.

“You’re… welcome.” Goodbye gorgeous. Guess Yuu’d never see him again.

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

It was with great surprise that Yuu did in fact see Mika again, this time over Mitsuba’s shoulder as she did the ordering and customer talking while he just made coffee after endless coffee. Fuck rush hour holy shit.

He tried to catch Mika’s eye in-between frothing up milk and shaking cocoa powder over a cappuccino, green catching and locking with blue for the barest second before Mika smiled widely and gave him a little wave, a fancy-looking camera hanging around his neck. “Hi Yuu. Good luck with the rest of your shift, I hope it calms down a bit.”

“What, this? It’s no problem!” Yuu bragged, before he caught the side of his wrist on the milk spout and bit back a curse. Always with the burns.

“See you next time.” Mika grabbed his coffee, oblivious to Yuu’s plight, and walked out the door, again emptying some coins into the tip jar before he left.

Mitsuba turned to Yuu, blonde twintails bouncing with the movement. “You know that guy? He’s the nicest customer I’ve had yet. I hope he becomes a regular.”

“Yeah.” Yuu nodded. “Me too.”

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

Mika did, in fact, become a regular. Which was awesome.

Every Wednesday and Friday like clockwork he’d show up, order his skinny vanilla latte to have there, pick a booth, and do stuff on his laptop. It was pretty cool, aside from the fact that Yuu couldn’t write terrible pick-up lines on the latte glasses.

That was Plan A of ‘Operation: get Mika’s number’ thwarted.

Plan B was to write it on the napkins, but then the problem was that Mika didn’t order food. Currently Yuu was on Plan C, which was Plan B but better.

Mika walked in with his laptop bag and his camera-holding thingie, waiting patiently in line until he was at the counter. “Hi Yuu.”

“Hey Mika. The usual?” Yuu gave him a charming grin.

“That’d be great, thank you.” Mika beamed. It was really pretty.

Yuu had to take a second to recover. “Easy, one usual coming up. Do you want to try a muffin to go with it? On the house, between you and me.”

Mika looked like he was considering it and for a moment Yuu’s hopes were rising, rising higher- “Thank you for the offer, but I already ate. Just the coffee, please.” And down those hopes fell, dashed against the rocks and crumpled like wretched Lucifer, cast from Heaven into the pits of hell.

“Sure thing. Give me a shot if you need a refill.”

“Will do.” Mika smiled at him, paid, and pottered off to go take a seat.

Yuu watched him go, noticing that he was wearing thigh-high boots what the fuck that wasn’t fair. That was illegal, that had to be illegal.

“Uh, sir? Sir? Can I order now?” Someone rang the bell and Yuu snapped back to reality, looking at the man in the- what the fuck was that a fucking cat? It looked like this man had lopped off the skull of a white tiger and mounted it on his head what the actual fuck. Yuu really hoped it was fake, he desperately fucking prayed.

Okay, goodbye Mika, hello Crazy Customer of the Day #309.

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

“Afternoon, Mika, the usual?” Yuu grinned at him, the café a bit quieter than usual. Maybe this time he could get a good conversation in while making Mika’s coffee.

“Yep, and also an English Breakfast tea, no sugars. I hope that’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all. You meeting a friend here?” He hoped it wasn’t a date. His attempts to try give Mika his number through shitty pick-up lines could not be foiled so easily.

“You could say that.” Mika smiled cheerfully, offering his card. “On debit, please.”

“No prob. He here yet?” Yuu looked around, not spotting any new faces.

“He said he’d be by in a few minutes. I’m surprised there’s not a rush, normally this place is quite busy. I thought getting a table would be harder.” Mika looked quite concerned at that.

Yuu waved it off as he finished putting in the docket. “It’s pre-midterms week. Everyone’s panic-studying, ordering pizza in, all that stuff.”

Mika chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m on top of my studies then, or else I might have had to miss out on the best coffee on campus.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” Yuu shot him a finger gun and a wink, before wondering if he’d overdone it. Luckily, Mika seemed to find it hilarious by how his smile went supernova and his laugh bubbled out of him.

“Definitely not. Thanks again.” Mika placed some coins in the tip jar before he went to the booth he always tried to sit at, pulling out his phone once he sat down.

Yuu watched him go and set to work on making the drinks, wondering if he should try make a food platter. Counterpoint to him trying to woo Mika through good food was the fact that Kimizuki was a snotty bitch who would kill him if he gave out even more free food, crushes be damned.

And yeah, Yuu could totally throw down with Kimizuki, but Mitsuba would tattle about it if there was a fight and he’d probably lose his job.

He’d just have to make it the best damn coffee in existence.

He was halfway through making the tea when a man walked in, and Yuu had to stop and stare for a sec because while yes, he was very fucking gay for Mika, he still had eyes.

It was when the total hunk sat down in front of Mika that Yuu felt his bout of ‘he’s pretty’ turn into entirely rational jealousy. Was Mika dating this guy? It took a special kind of hotness to pull off a braid and dyed bangs, Yuu could admit.

He put on his customer service smile as he carried the drinks over, rampant envy broiling in his veins. He set drinks down, being extra delicate and polite with Mika’s coffee and blanking out the other guy entirely. “here you go, Mika. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks. Crowley, this is Yuu, the barista I mentioned. Yuu, this is my dad, Crowley.”

Yuu practically heard the record scratch sound. Dad?

His next thought was along the lines of ‘oh thank god, Mika’s still possibly available’, and he was starting to realise he may be desperate. “Nice to meet you, Crowley.”

“You too,” Crowley grinned back with a touch of a British accent curling around the words, red eyes twinkling in amusement. “Thanks for the cuppa, luv.”

Yuu nodded before tuning him out again and giving another smile to Mika, going around to clear some other tables and already plotting his next move. Fingerguns and winks were now on the table. Mhuahahahaha.

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

“So, Mika, how’s the photography?” Yuu struck up a conversation as he cleared away the latte glass, taking advantage of the restaurant’s quiet to try and kickstart a deep meaningful conversation that he was absolutely going to fill with stupid jokes.

“it’s going well,” Mika smiled, saving the photoshop file on the screen. Clearly he’d lost a file once by accident and saved every program with the vigour of a spartan warrior ever since. “Are you interested in photography?”

“Actually, I’m studying psychology,” Yuu grinned. “Gonna go for a masters if I can once I’m done with this, then eventually you’ll have to address me as Dr Yuichiro.”

Mika’s smile sharpened slightly. “A PhD, huh?”

“Thinking about it.” He shrugged, trying to look humble when he was anything but.

“I think Dr Yuichiro’s got a good ring to it,” Mika smiled slyly, and oh no that wasn’t fair he was not allowed to make it sound so sexy.

“You’re the first. Kimizuki said I shouldn’t be allowed near people,” he grinned.

“And you work the register?” Mika laughed.

“Used to work in the back ‘til Narumi up and ditched us to ‘follow his dreams’,” Yuu told him conspiratorially. “I’m the only one of the kitchen staff who can reliably not scare away customers, so I got shunted here.”

“Maybe I should thank Narumi then, if he got me such a good barista,” Mika smiled. “You’re not scary at all.”

“How dare you, I’m terrifying,” he joked.

Mika scoffed, sapphire eyes sparkling. “As terrifying as my cat.”

Yuu let out a theatrical gasp, balancing his tray on one hand as he clutched his heart. “I think I liked you better when you were a polite customer.”

Mika blinked innocently at him, a challenge curling at the edges of his toothy grin. “Am I not anymore? Shame.”

What a brat. Yuu smirked at him in answer. “Well, I can’t be rude to customers, so I’m legally required to say no.”

“Only legally? Not morally?” Mika rested his chin in his hands as he leaned forward on the table, his photoshop file left entirely forgotten.

“Morally I can say whatever the hell I want as long as it’s not said in front of consumers.” Yuu winked.

“I guess you’re treading on thin ice right now, huh?” Mika bit his lip in affected concern, a prominent pearly canine catching for a moment, and Yuu’s mind went fucking blank. “Best be careful then. I wouldn’t want my favourite barista to go jobless. Right, Yuu-chan?~”

“R-right.” Yuu stuttered for a moment as he tried and failed to come up with literally any kind of flirty remark in reply, getting zero zilch zip from his flatscreening brain. Head empty no thoughts. “I’ll get you a refill, then?”

Mika’s smile screamed ‘cat who caught the canary’. “Don’t keep me waiting, Yuu-chan.”

He nodded and scampered back behind the counter, taking a minute to settle his racing heart. He heard a tapping sound and looked at the overpass into the kitchen, Kimizuki rapping a spatula on the counter.

“You’re pathetic.” Kimizuki’s scornful gaze was only amplified by the glasses he wore.

Yuu flipped him off. Fuck Kimizuki.

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

Yuu steeled his nerve as Mika walked in, refusing to let his crush pull one over on him again. Shinoa hadn’t let up since Kimizuki had told her, and Yuu was getting real tired of every whipcrack hand motion she was sending his way.

Mika smiled very innocently as he walked up to the counter, blue eyes bright and oh-so-breathtaking. “Hello, Yuu-chan.”

Little bastard.

“Good to see you too, Mika,” he grinned, resting his elbows on the counter. “Here for your usual, or are you thinking of switching it up?”

“Hm,” Mika tilted his head like he was considering it. “Now that you mention it, maybe I should try something out. How about something a little sweeter this time, Yuu-chan?”

“I think you’re sweet enough already,” Yuu flirted cheesily, watching Mika’s eyes widen a touch. That’s right, he could flirt too. All that ‘Yuu-chan’ business had no power over him now. “But sure, hit me up with what you want to try.”

Mika’s eyes sparkled delightfully, a challenge in his smile. “What’s your poison, then?”

Yuu raised a brow. “Well, I’m a black coffee kind of guy-”

“Because you grind so fine?” Mika interrupted him, like he didn’t just say the sexy pick up line for Yuu.

He gave Mika a Look, Mika merely batting his eyes back at him. “Double shot, nothing extra.” Maybe a bit of hazelnut when he really needed a pick-me-up. “That’s my coffee.”

“A ‘keep me up til two AM’ kind of guy, I like that.” Mika snickered.

“Stop it,” Yuu cautioned. Only he was allowed to use terrible puns like that.

“Make me,” Mika downright dared him, leaning over the counter a little more.

Yuu grabbed his chin and looked him in the eye, a spark of victory gleaming in his emerald gaze. “Keep it up and we’ll see where it gets you, gorgeous.”

Mika’s pupils dilated.

Yuu smirked at him and let go, picking up the docket sheet. “So, coffee order? You’re holding up the line, babe.”

Mika beamed, a smile like spun sunshine. “You know what, I think I’ll go for my usual after all. But maybe next time I’ll be a bit more daring.”

“Sure you will.” Yuu winked at him. “Later, beautiful.”

Mika laughed as he went to his favourite booth, Yuu internally high-fiving himself as he went. That went excellently.

Okay. Next time he’d ask him out. Next time for sure.

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

Today was the day. It was absolutely the day. Today for sure.

He handed Mika his coffee, got ready to say ‘I love you give me your number’, and chickened out when he realised that was absolutely not the way to ask and would instead plant him straight in ‘ultra creep’ territory.

Next week. Next week for sure.

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

Yuu looked up from wiping down the counter, groaning as Shinoa came in. “Aren’t you meant to be on your day off?”

“Well, yes,” Shinoa smiled far too innocently, and Yuu’s hackles went up with suspicion. “But my dearest friend has been telling me ALL about his new favourite café, so I had to come by and see it.”

“Shinoa, you work here.” Yuu glared at her.

“He doesn’t know that,” she smirked, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I never say names, my darling Yuu.”

“I never agreed to you calling me that.”

“I don’t care.” She swanned up to the counter, propping herself up on her hands and tiptoes. Yuu scowled as she smeared her hands all over the area he’d literally just wiped clean. “Now gimme free coffee.”

“Fuck off. Employee discount only and even then I’m debating making you pay full price.”

“You’re so mean,” she pouted. “And when I’m buying for my friend as well. I think you’d like him, as much as a big meanie like you can like anyone.”

“I like people, I’m not Kimizuki,” he rolled his eyes. “Who’s your damn friend?”

“Oh, you might know him.” Her evil grin came back full-force, making her look downright demented. “Why don’t we see if you can guess from his order?”

“Do you know how many customers we have?” Yuu snapped a tea towel at her hands. “Hands off the counter, you’re probably infested with something.”

“Boo you.” She huffed and raised her hands, twiddling her fingers as she did. “Anyway, I want a multi-mega mocha milkshake with extra sprinkles and four shots of coffee. Oh! And whipped cream. Lots of it.”

“You’re going to die from a caffeine overdose and I will film it.” He wiped the counter down again out of spite.

“Maybe so, but at least I’ll die not hopelessly pining for some boy who takes, oh, what was it now?” She tapped her chin, looking deep in thought. He didn’t buy it for a second, especially not when she turned a vicious smile onto him. “Oh, right, skinny vanilla latte. Large.”

He wondered what the hell kind of expression he made that had her cackling like the wicked witch she was. “You gotta be joking.”

“Nope, and remember, on the cup for that one, my friend’s name is Mik-ae-la~” She sounded out the name, taking too much joy in it. “And make it fast, sweetcheeks, he’s going to be here soon.”

“I hate you with every blood cell in my body.”

“Make sure to put one of your cute little pick-up lines on that now,” she winked. “I’ve been reading them whenever I take out the trash. You’re so desperate it’s cute. Now shoo shoo, make me coffee, coffee man.” She flicked a hand at him, revelling in the power that a customer had. Shit like this was why she was banned from interacting with the general public at work.

“Sure thing. I’ll bring your drinks out to you,” he forced out through a smile, teeth grinding together as he gritted them. His eye may have twitched. He wasn’t sure.

She twirled around and skipped to her seat, spinning her favourite little trinket in her hand and making the green and orange lights on it flare up like she was at a rave. He tried to stare a hole through the back of her head before he set about making her the drinks she ordered.

Mika. Mika was friends with Shinoa. It was a testament to how in love he was with that guy that knowing Mika willingly hung out with Shinoa did not become an immediate turn off. He liked her too, sure, for whatever was left of his sanity’s sake, but she was still a pain.

He heard the little bell above the door jingle and glanced up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Mika waving at him. “Hey Yuu,” Mika grinned, sounding way too proud of himself.

“Hey Mika,” he smiled back, unable to stop himself from getting all soppy at the edges. “Skinny vanilla?”

“You bet,” he winked at Yuu and sauntered off to sit with Shinoa, the two of them immediately starting up some sort of gossipy conversation judging by the hand motions and expressions.

He looked down at the drinks he was plating up, took a deep breath, and furiously scribbled a puntastic pick-up line and his number on the napkin under Mika’s coffee. This was it. He was going to do it.

“I am not a coward,” he muttered to himself, picking up the tray and carrying it over. “That was a multi-mega mocha milkshake with quadruple shots, extra whip, and sprinkles, and a large skinny vanilla latte?”

“She’s having the deathshake.” Mika pointed at Shinoa, who fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“No problem.” Yuu set the drinks down, trying to ignore how he could hear his heartbeat thundering in his eardrums like the bass beat of a good metal concert, keeping on a smile that was at this point reserved only for Mika. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Mika reached for a packet of sugar and dumped it into his coffee, picking up his spoon before his hand froze, sapphire eyes tracing over the wickerscratch handwriting on the napkin.

Are you an espresso? Because you’re a shot to my heart. Call me?

Mika blinked up at him, Yuu frozen in place with the sort of calm that only came from blasting beyond panic and landing in the cool grey apathy of total nerve-ridden shutdown.

Shinoa snorted, the sound snapping Yuu out of his quiet reverie. “Uh- I mean, unless you want to kinda- not to be a creep or anything, but we could-” he paused when Mika put a finger over his lips.

Mika’s smile was soft as silk. “I like movies?”

“Movies. Right. I’m off at eight?” No way no way no way-

“Eight sounds great,” Mika’s grin became a bit toothier. “I’ll meet you out front?”

“It’s a date?” Yuu smiled hopefully.

Mika grabbed the front of his apron and kissed his cheek. “You bet it is.”

“Great!” He gave him a thumbs up, practically floating back towards the counter with a sunshine smile all his own.

He heard Kimizuki scoff from the overpass at him. “What coffee shop fanfiction bullshit is this?”

Yuu ignored him, too happy to even care. Best workshift ever.

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #mikaela hyakuya #yuichiro hyakuya #mikayuu #yuumika #yuumikayuu #fyrecrackeruwu #my writings #commission

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gallymagines · 5 years

Text

A Fork In The Road - Steve x Reader x Alexei (Part 2)

Warnings: Some swearing

Part 1

_______________

October 14th, 1985

It had been a month since you first started studying privately with Dr. Alexei and you had noticed that you were doing so much better than before. After class on Mondays, you would walk to his office for tutoring and having him explain the subjects, again and again, until you started to get it. With that help, on the past couple of quizzes, you did great, and it seemed like everything you studied with Dr. Alexei was on there. Finally doing well, your confidence grew and you were excited to go to class. As you walked into the door of your classroom you greeted your professor with a smile.

“Good morning Dr. Alexei,”

“Good morning Y/N,”

You were about to head to your seat when he said,

“Oh wait. I made for you.”

You turn back around to see him handing you a container of food. After that first time where you passed out, he had started bringing in breakfast for you. Even on lab days where food wasn’t allowed he would still bring something in and make sure you ate before the class started any experiments. At first, you were hesitant because you didn’t want to have him worry about bringing you something and forgetting things for class but, he always insisted that it wasn’t a bother and he just wanted to make sure that you would be okay. It was a very kind gesture. Grabbing the container from him you say,

“Thank you.”

You head to your seat and open the container to find that he had made you some silver dollar pancakes. Smiling at the food you start to eat them one by one. From his desk at the front of the class, Alexei happily watches you eat. Seeing you enjoy the food he asked,

“You like baby pancakes?”

“Oh yes! Silver dollars are cute.” You replied

“Silver dollar?” Dr. Alexei asked

“Yeah, that’s what a lot of people call these, but I think baby pancakes is more accurate. These are very yummy baby pancakes.”

He nods and walks over to your seat. Pointing towards the container he asks,

“Can I have baby pancake? I did not try them, just did the recipe.”

“Sure,”

As you did with so many of your friends, you instinctively grabbed the food and held it out for him to just eat it. You didn’t realize what you had done until your professor was already biting the tiny pancake you held. He grabbed the rest of it. Flustered you apologized,

“I am so sorry! I didn’t- it was just instinct. I- I’m sorry!”

He laughed.

“It is okay. I think it is nice how Americans feed each other food. Very sweet.”

Your face felt hot from the action that you just did but also from the kind response from your professor. He’s always been very nice to you since your first day of class. Other than maybe Steve, nobody had paid this much attention to you or cared so much about you. It was...very sweet. You stopped your thinking as other students filed into the classroom and pulled out your notebook for the lecture today.

*****

The time flew by and soon class was over. You finished to pack up your stuff to head to your tutoring when you were stopped by another student from your class. It was Jessica Washington. She graduated a year before you but decided to attend Hawkins CC to stay near her grandma who was sick.

“Hey, Jess,”

“Hey, can I talk to you in the hall real quick?” She asked

You look towards Dr. Alexei who seemed to be preoccupied with a different student. Turning back to Jess you nodded yes. The two of you walked out of the classroom and down the hall a bit before she turned her attention to you and asked,

“Are you sucking the professor's dick?”

Your eyes opened wide in shock.

“What? No. Why would you ask that?”

“Oh okay. I mean I just saw the way he looks at you in class when you’re not looking and you started to get better grades so...you can see why my mind went there.” She explains

“Oh my god Jess, I’ve been going to office hours to have him re-explain the subjects from class because I suck ass at physics. It’s been helping and I’ve been getting better grades from it. As for him looking at me, I can only assume it’s because of that one time I passed out so now he’s constantly checking.”

“Okay. Sorry for the assumption but I mean...look at him. Just like a lot of other girls in our class, if I had the chance, I’d probably take it.” She says

“Okay Jess, I’m going now. Goodbye.”

You hear her laugh a bit from behind you but you decide to ignore it. Making your way towards Dr. Alexei’s office you think about what she said. Yeah, he’s attractive but you wouldn’t sleep your way to a good grade. Anyway, romantic student-teacher relationships are forbidden. Not that you would pursue one if it wasn’t forbidden. At least you think you wouldn’t. As you approach his office a voice from behind you calls,

“Y/N!”

You jump a little bit, started by the voice calling. Turning around you find your professor there.

“Ah sorry. Did not mean to startle you.” He apologizes

“It’s okay. Ready to study?”

“Yes, always,” he replies

*****

After about an hour of studying Dr. Alexei decided you should take a break.

“Are you sure? The midterm is coming up in two weeks and I don’t want to do poorly.”

“You will do fine on the midterm. Everything you know will be on it.” He replies

“And the stuff I don’t?”

“Do not worry, you will be okay. Take a brain break.” He suggests

“Okay, if you say so,”

“Y/N, I only know you as student, but what are you like as a person?”

Before you could respond there was a knock at the office door.

“Come in.” Dr. Alexei said

The door opened and a familiar face popped their head in the opening.

“Steve!”

He opened the door fully and stepped in the office.

“I got an extended lunch and decided I would come to pick you up. You weren’t outside at the bus stop though so I asked the information desk where your professor’s office was and now I’m here. Ready to go?”

You looked between Steve and your professor before saying,

Stay | Leave (Click one to make your choice)

Tags: @hazeofeleven @queenbidoof @metuel18 @uselessbutinteresting @bbyheathersunshine @ajbolognase

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soundofseventeen · 5 years

Text

Just Out of Reach (Lee Jihoon)

After major writer’s block, I have returned with the next installment of SS. I’m also juggling many projects so you shall see what I have next! Also our account turned one year yesterday so thanks to everyone who’s been with us!! i own nothing!!! -Bee

Word count: 6086

Masterlist

He may have been neither been prim nor proper, but no one could say that Jihoon wasn’t punctual. All he needed was a time and place, and it was a guarantee he’d show up almost an hour beforehand. (Though, he could easily blame the anxiety wired part of his brain for that.) While handy, it often became an inconvenience when something was either cancelled or postponed. In light of recent events, however, he’d been showing on the dot or a even a minute or two late. (He knew the timer meant a life changing event; why else would he have it?) The calculator in his peripheral vision blinked a couple times in hopes of getting is attention then turned off. It’s not like he noticed it anyways. His neglected math assignment, along with other stray sheets of paper, had fallen to the floor when someone (Chan) opened the door and a gust of wind blew in. He sighed, falling to his knees and picked them up slowly, unsure where his mind had gone. The younger boy had already beat him to picking everything up, but by the time he registered it, Wonwoo had also shown up at his usual spot at the table and took out his own assignments wordlessly.

“Long day?” He asked the older boy, thanking Seungcheol for their coffees.

He huffed, ranting about how his physics professor had misplaced his midterms for the third time this month, calling out their bullshit and scalding his tongue from the caffeine. “Alright, maybe I deserved that,” he relented. “How was your weekend?”

“Not any more exciting than yours.” He didn’t mention how his plan ended up with him missing a bus by a few seconds all because he had tripped over his laces and how he now wore slip ons. The timer on his wrist slowly ticked down for whatever was meant to happen. Though math was never his strong suit and since discovering how to convert the number of days into hours and minutes, he learned very quickly, and becoming something of a math genius. “And how is that whole tattoo removal thing going for you?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes at the question, clearly not wanting that attention on him. “When I find someone who’s willing to remove this thing, I’ll let you know.” With that, he took another sip, ending the discussion. Instead, he waved at the boss from the flower shop next door and Seungkwan who walked next to her, pinkies linked and giggling at whatever they were talking about.

“You know, one day you might actually find your soulmates if you stepped foot anywhere else but here,” Jeonghan’s many greats grandmother scolded them. “They’re not coming in here anytime soon.”

Jihoon opted to humor her, a wry smile appearing on his face. “And where do you think we should go Auntie?”

“Explore my dear boy! Nothing good ever comes from staying in one place. Where is that- Jeonghan let’s move! That boy I swear.”

With your gloved hand, you waved excitedly at Soonyoung who was more focused on riding out the wave but once he caught sight of you, lost his concentration (and balance), thus falling off his surfboard and let the ocean swallow him whole and spitting him out onshore a few seconds later.

“Y/N!” He greeted happily, forgetting he was soaked to the bone and grabbing you for a bear hug. “What brings you here for a visit?”

“Uh, you texted me and asked if I was free?” You began wringing your shirt.

“ Yah! That was two hours ago! How do you know I didn’t have to go to Teipei or Osaka after you ignored me?”

You smiled at him. “You are Kwon Soonyoung, rescuer of all sea animals. You wouldn’t dare leave your reserve unless it’s absolutely necessary. Now, you know I’ve missed you and all, but you owe me a dry set of clothes and some water.”

About half an hour later, you were having lunch at a conspicuous fast food restaurant, indulging on some fries while he filled you in on his latest adventures ranging from an investment that’ll increase shark population by 15% to actually swimming with the sharks in Australia. The way he spoke so animatedly and so passionately about the wildlife often made you wonder if you were making a difference in what you did. You may have both been heirs, but the foundation he was working on was his pride and joy, something he built on his own whereas Universe Factory was technically passed down to you, sans the name.

His cold hand touching your gloved wrist brought you back to the moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. “What?”

“Have you figured this thing out yet?”

“Not yet. I know it was at seven seconds like not too long ago.” You removed the glove and let him see the newest numbers. Soonyoung was one of the few people you trusted, not because he was one of your only friends (but that was a factor, why would you lie?) but also because curious as he was, he didn’t try to throw you on a plane to see the best scientists in the country and explain this. “What are you thinking?”

He shook his head. “I’m just-how does this work? Does it like malfunction when you get it wet or what? Or is it timing you for something?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve showered a million times and it doesn’t do anything.” You sighed. “I’m sure it’s a timer though. Why else would it count down.”

“I don’t wanna freak you out but what if it’s telling you how long you have until you-”

“What? Die?” It was your turn to shake your head. “I’ve thought about it, but it doesn’t seem likely. Remember the train tracks?”

“Which you swore we would never speak of again and look what you’re doing now.” He rubbed his arm. “I just got chills, look.” (You’d been taking pictures on the tracks when the whistle starting blowing and when you started racing to get off, one of your feet got stuck between the rails and while you weren’t sure how it happened, Soonyoung managed to pull you just before it passed. The funny thing was that that incident didn’t alter the countdown.) “Maybe it’s only a matter of time until you lose your sanity,” he joked.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” You ate in silence for a few minutes before your curiosity got the best of you. “Have you heard anything for Jun?” (One of the perks in being considered part of the elite was being in on things, but your own informant had nothing to give you on your royal friend.

“Personally, no, but one of my sources say he’s okay at the moment. Currently somewhere in Tokyo. You worried?”

“It’d be nice to hear from him directly.”

“Y/N, he’s fleeing an arranged marriage from someone who doesn’t wanna better the country. That’s better than him suffering. Now, no more depressing thoughts. Tell me more about your art museum. I know you have more ideas for the place. And if not, let me tell you about this really neat retreat we’re having soon.”

Saturday afternoon, he found Wonwoo, Hansol and his “soulmate” waiting for him at Adequate Eternity. They’d planned a small get together before heading to Universe Factory but they had time to kill so they went inside. One thought that didn’t escape his mind was whether it’d be more bearable to endure the heat the couple in front of them radiated if they weren’t touching or to deal with them constantly touching. He wasn’t bitter or anything; he just didn’t need the reminder that maybe, just maybe soulmates could be real. Or that the single life sucked. A lot. He needed a job or something that distracted him from that. But if someone could call him back, that’d be great. He snuck a peek at Wonwoo who was glaring at his arm and almost laughed. He had forgiven his best friend, despite the words that had nearly wrecked their friendship. It was, like many things, out of Wonwoo’s control. Now, whoever spoiled it for him, is another story.

“Hi guys!” Seungkwan called out to them and walked over, holding his own soulmate’s hand, and reminding Jihoon that being single was nothing short of torture. Granted, he wasn’t the lovey dovey type, but it was still nice to have someone next to him. Someone that wasn’t Wonwoo. “Busy day?”

Vernon shook his head. “Just heading out in a bit to the museum. This one-” glancing affectionately at his soulmate, “-said something about half price so why not. You guys?”

“Just taking a stroll. Hey, you guys wanna see something neat? Should we show them?” He proceeded to let go of his soulmate’s hand and walked away. “You see my ring, right?” He shook his hand a couple of times. “Now you don’t. And look who has it.” They spent a few minutes showing the table that the ring could never be lost and though there wasn’t a logical explanation for what Jihoon saw, he had to admit he was impressed, if not slightly disgusted at how cute it was.

After reluctantly saying goodbye to the happy couple, they made their way to Universe Factory. Hansol had momentarily left to buy the tickets, making them uncomfortable with the heat they radiated (said something about not wanting to make his soulmate’s roommate feel weird about it.) and it was only until after they entered the building that they held hands again and the temperature stablized.

Jihoon had only been here a handful of times prior to the reopening but he had to admit that he liked the renovations so far. He hadn’t personally met the boss, but he could tell art was definitely a passion. He knew that if he wanted to escape Wonwoo in the near (or distant!) future, this would be his getaway. However, he felt the place to be much too quiet. He could hear the whispers between the hipsters and the critiques tearing apart certain pieces and even he knew this place was more of a solstice to the lost souls, not some cocktail party and bidding on the highest pieces of some upcoming Pablo Picasso or any of the artist’s himself. He needed something to drown out the negativity. Something like, “A piano.”

“What?” Wonwoo turned his head curiously at the boy.”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But a piano would sound nice. Plug it in to some speakers somewhere and it could fill the place with music. He stared at his timer for the first time that day. The day was rapidly approaching when this something would happen, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.

You thanked the taxi with a flick of your gloved hand, staring at the art museum in front of you and the newest blueprints at your side. If everything went according to schedule, you’d be able to finish the Van Gogh inspired room by the end of the week and start your next task...though that was something you’d rather not deal with.

Ever since your parents had deemed you responsible (and old) enough to pass on their art museum to you, the transition of a spoiled child to an actual heir tending to a business became a sort of wake up call to you. You weren’t crazy about it at first, since you liked doing things that didn’t involve rules, regulations, a time frame, or commitments.You had rather been boarding a plane at any given moment and visiting a new place for days, even weeks on end than scheduling a meeting about signing over rights and who no longer had a say in anything first thing in the morning. It wasn’t your dream, not at first. Who’d want to spend money to see pictures? And at those ridiculous prices? It was no wonder you put the pieces together so quickly as to why you your allowances were cut off and you needed start making your own money: filing for bankruptcy was on the horizon.

After the legal rights to pass on the museum to you were approved, they left and you hadn’t really seen much of them, which left you to fend for yourself. You had to sell a few of your designer bags, outfits, shoes and unused cosmetics, but eventually, The Wonder Emporium reopened under Universe Factory and from there, you continued to build a legacy under your name. You lowered prices to a fairer level, thus bringing in more customers than you had ever hoped and even expanding the place. Once you had set your eyes on the works of The8, you fell in love with the arts overall. Renovations began and soon you found yourself flying all over Asia trying to not only to find his works to add to your growing collection but you collected others from those who had potential under the condition that they had the belief of all humans having rights regardless of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation and so on. Those you employed and contacted were no exception. In the short time you had taken charge, you dropped businesses, employees and anyone who so much as looked at anyone wrong. (You drew the line at discrimination, especially when it had come to a boy you knew as Hansol from word of mouth of one of your employees.) Everything seemed to be running smoothly, but now you had a meeting to attend to and

“Mingyu! Thank you for waiting! I’m so sorry I’m late! I just got carried away, and you know how it is.”

“No worries Y/N. It won’t be the last time either, I can assure you that.” He laughed. “What are we working on next?”

“Okay, I know we just reopened the place, but one of my new employees suggested we add a kinda like rec room for artists to show their works in progress, but also for anyone who wants to start doing it.” You unrolled one of the blueprints. “How much further back do you think we can go back until the city threatens to shut me down?” You joked. Looking down on the floor you noticed a silver band just near the table. You picked it up and stuffed it in your pocket, reminding yourself to ask the staff if they had lost something recently. (You knew it wasn’t Mingyu’s. His was on his pinkie finger, glimmering brightly against the fluorescents.)

Mingyu studied it carefully and quietly, taking out his calculator and ticking his fingers. He pulled out his pencil, writing out measurements, only to erase them when he did the math wrong. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” He finally spoke without looking up. He changed a few of the numbers on your thing and circling the final number.

You made a face. “Surprise me.”

“Okay, we probably won’t be able to make it any wider without violating any laws, but we could make it a few stories higher, turn that unused attic into the room or even turn that into your office.” He removed his glasses. “Now the bad news is that this’ll go over the budget you’ve given me, so you might have to talk to your bank and your accountant to negotiate some things.”

“I-uh fired my accountant,” you admitted sheepishly.

Elbow on the table, he placed his thumb and middle finger on his temples and managed to let out a little laugh, despite his obvious frustration. “Y/N, this is the third one. What’d this one do now? Step on a puppy’s tail and kicked it to the side?”

“No, uhh, I went to go take them some receipts that I had forgotten here and well he made one of the secretaries cry for not getting some time cards in on time. So now, yikes. I’m sorry Mingyu.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but I can’t do anything until you can make sure you can do this without falling into debt. You might have money now but at the rate you’re spending, it’s gonna be long gone before you start making profit.”

You stared at your timer, hoping for an answer or even just a clue. It counted down seven days.

“No, no. That’s fine,” Jihoon spoke to the other person on the other end of the line as he walked inside Babylon. “Thank you anyways. Uh-huh. Thanks, you too. ‘Bye.” He hung up. “Asshole.”

“You rang?” Joshua joked, popping between one of the aisles. He happily arranged a section of teddy bears, plopping a few to the side in case he decided to cave and buy them. “Everything okay Ji?”

“I’m quickly running out of money and I don’t have a job,” he made a face. “Go figure. Everywhere I apply, it’s the same thing: I’m either not qualified or I don’t have the work experience. I’m about to quit life and head back home. Maybe I can make use of myself there.” Though, he escaped Busan for that same reason. He left Joshua in his spot in hopes of finding a second hand guitar since his took a tumble off the fridge and smashed into little bits. (It took him maybe 15 minutes to remove all the splinters except for one that kept heckling his pinkie finger and irritating him more because his ring usually helped with something like that but he figured he misplaced it again.) He needed a job and fast. Maybe he could ask Auntie Jihye for potion or a spell or something to give him quick cash, not that he’d believe it but because it gave him some kinda hope.

“You’ll be fine,” Joshua reassured him appearing to fix up the teapots. “Everyone deals with this. Maybe look in the area to see where they’re hiring. I know you’re not exactly stoked to work around so many people but sometimes you have to sacrifice that for a few won.”

“Or I can end up throwing staplers at people who don’t know how to mind their own business...and possibly a restraining order from that.” He was ready to drop the subject and noticing the lack of eye bags on his friend’s face, he’d rather choose a more familiar concept. “So, um, how are you and your…‘soulmate’?” (It baffled him to think how not too long ago they were nothing but comforting faces and now they practically bared their souls to each other...well when he and Wonwoo were apart. Vernon’s soulmate managed to get him a job working at a restaurant.)

Joshua shrugged. “We’re good, I guess? She’s interested in someone right now so she tells me about it in our dreams.”

“So you haven’t seen her?”

“Not physically, but the nightmares stopped…unless one of us says the wrong thing and it pisses the other off.” He shuddered at a distant memory, subconsciously feeling for his ear.

“So are you like the only ones that aren’t dating?”

“No. Just because we’re soulmates or whatever doesn’t mean anything. It’s like saying since you and I became friends, you’re now obligated to spend all your time with me. We tried hanging out after work hours but we stopped.” A loud clattering interrupted the boys making them both jump and who else but the great Auntie Jihye stepped into view a moment later, and Joshua nodded in understanding. “Now to see what my lovestruck coworker broke.” He smiled fondly. “Last time, I managed to convince our boss that a company shipped us some vases that were already broken.” He bowed politely at Jihye and excused himself.

“Dear boy, why the long face? You look even more sour than usual.” She tickled his cheek tenderly and rather than flinching away, Jihoon let her. “I can see it in your eyes something’s bothering you.”

“I’m just tired Auntie. I’m thinking about going home.”

“I know this old lady bores with all her nonsense talk, but would you like to hear a piece of advice? Or rather, what I can see in your future if you stay?” She grabbed Jihoon’s hand without warning, and pushed up the long sleeve that concealed his torture instrument. “This is the key to the life you’ve been dreaming about. All you have to do is be patient, my dear. If you go, your regret will eat you alive.” She dug around her purse and pulled out a flier. “What you need is to get out. See the coast, smell the sea, and hear the marine wildlife. Then you can decide what you wanna do.”

“You know, when I said I owed you one, this isn’t what I had in mind.” You stared at the ship hesitantly, already feeling the seasickness hit you.

“Oh come on, we’re whale watching, not taking the blood samples for the stingrays. After all, who hooked you up with the accountant that met the delicate Y/N’s standards?” Soonyoung glanced pointedly at you. “And has forgiven you for being late...again? Besides, you missed your best friend, aka me.”

“Soonyoung, you are my only friend,” you sighed when he did a silent yes and a small fist pump. “How much longer until we get into this death trap?”

“As soon as everyone gets here. And before you ask what you’re supposed to do until then, I suggest you get yourself into more comfortable clothes. Ask someone to take you to my office.I had the clothes you brought last time washed and dry cleaned. And knowing you, I got you some thicker gloves. I don’t think you’ll need my assistance until we actually see some whales.” He shooed you along so he could finish whatever it was and with a sigh you left him to his devices.

He had just finished loading food and beverages when you came back looking like you had just seen a ghost, he jumped back. “Give me a warning next time. Shit, I could’ve died right here and then my blood would’ve been on your hands. What’s wrong now? I promise we don’t harm the animals in the lab. We just need to see if they’ve been consuming plastic or any other dangerous materials-”

You held your arm out, peeling away the glove. “It’s today,” you managed to get out. “This morning it said I had more time, but when I was getting dressed, the time changed significantly.” This had happened before but this was the first time you were actually freaking out because it never changed that drastically. A couple of minutes or hours yes, but almost four days was new to you. “Soonyoung, what do I do?”

“You can either walk away now and worry about it the whole time until you get home or you can momentarily forget this and have some fun with me, your best friend that you don’t see enough.” He batted his eyelashes. “Of course you could move in with me full time and I would still think that. But that’s not the point here. I’m just saying don’t let this thing dictate your life and question your every move.Just enjoy your day here You didn’t have to open today; you left Mingyu to work on your thing. Just relax. Now...the guests, tourists, customers, whatever you wanna call them are coming.” He started boarding the ship, his hand extended towards you. “And what are you gonna do?”

You inhaled deeply, letting the oxygen try to settle your nerves and brain in one hit and after a moment, took his hand and let him help you up. “Let’s do this thing.”

“That’s my best friend,” he mock sobbed before sobering up quickly. “If you want, you can stay in one of the back seats. A lot of passengers who get nauseous quickly say it isn’t as bad. I will be in the front giving the tour, obviously but I got you a cow bell that you can shake if you need my attention. Any questions?”

“Can I go sit down? I’m not used to so much rocking?” Of course, he laughed at you the whole time he was escorting you, and once you sat down, you rested your elbow on the railing, your fingertips touching your forehead and you breathed deeply. You loved the ocean, mind you, but you preferred swimming in it over being on top of it. How Soonyoung did this daily, you didn’t know but you commended him nonetheless. Not much later, you began hearing various voices in different languages as they took their spots and your idiot friend greeting everyone brightly. The boat had yet to stop rocking and the wind filled your nostrils with the brine and all you could do was try to not bolt. And even if you tried, you would’ve been trapped with whoever you sat next to you, making leaving impossible. The ringing in your ears didn’t help either, but you managed to look up at all the passengers that gathered up for the watch as Soonyoung began the introductions and so on.

“You okay?” The boy next to you asked.

You nodded. “I’m just not used to being on boats.”

“Me too. I get sick really fast so I push you away, I warned you. Also, I’m sorry if I talk a lot. I do that when I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay. If you have questions, you can ask me. I’m not as gifted as Soonyoung-” you pointed to the eager boy emphasizing whatever point he was making with his hands, “-with his knowledge, but there are some things that stuck with me.” The beeping in your head didn’t stop but you managed to ignore it, albeit you had to cover one of your ears and shake your head.

“You know Soonyoung?” He poked his own ear. “That’s cool.”

“At this point, I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.” You tugged on your gloves. “He dragged me here so I could get away from the work life and enjoy the mammals doing their own thing. He’d probably have me scooping out jellyfish if I had said no to coming.”

“No kidding? One of my aunts gave me a flier to come here because I was stressed out.” He shook his arm to lower his sweater and covered his hand completely. “I’m thinking of maybe going home after I finish this semester. I find a job but I thought one last outing would be fun.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Seoul. I don’t know if you’ve been there, but it’s beautiful. There’s a remote part of it where there aren’t as many people but it’s like a whole other world. There’s like something that pulls you to come in and not leave. Kinda like magic.” He stayed quiet, thinking if he should say more. “My favorite place is a coffee shop called Adequate Eternity. The old lady who owns the place is weird but she’s welcoming.”

“Mmm, I think I went there once, but I had forgotten my card at the bank and by the time I went back, I had just finished a shit ton of meetings. The life of a business person is never ending. An employee of mine swears that the coffee gives her magic powers.”

“I second that. I’m Jihoon, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you smiled at the strange boy, trying to remember where that name rang a bell.

“What do you do Y/N? You sound busy and if you’re friends with someone like Soonyoung, it’s probably just as important.”

“I mean I don’t save the planet, but I own an art museum in Seoul. Universe Factory. I bring paintings and portraits to those who can’t leave.”

“No way! I was there last week! It looks better than before. I mean, it looked nice the old way too but now it looks more complex, the way art should be. I saw Kim Mingyu and his crew inside. Are you adding more to it.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you that he knew Mingyu but it did and you brushed it off. “I wanna add an extra story to it so anyone who wants to try out their hand at drawing or whatever it is they do, will be more than welcome to.”

“So you’re saving people then. That’s really neat.”

Pretty soon you and Jihoon were engaged in a full blown discussion involving the arts, future plans you had for the place and what you hoped could become something of a legacy. Despite the beeping you couldn’t pinpoint (since it seemed to be coming from everywhere), you enjoyed yourself, forgetting the fact you were easily seasick and that Soonyoung was ready to come to your rescue if you needed it. But you’d even forgotten you were whale watching until the mist sprayed you and even then you continued your conversations. It only ended once the tour was over and you exchanged numbers over the possibility of him coming to work for you over the suggestion of having live music and him modestly admitting he played a few instruments and the promise of you getting in touch with the person who had an impressive display of The8’s nature stuff. Minimum wage was the best you could do for now but he jumped onboard because it was better than no job and left with nothing but a wave. It was only when he left you remembered the airhead heir who was finishing up putting everything away and him smiling evilly at you that you punched his shoulder.

“Look at you making friends.”

“Employees,” you corrected. “He gave me a good idea and what better way to give someone credit than hiring them?” The sea gulls’ piercing caws reminded you of something. “Hey, did you find out where that beeping was coming from? It was hard to concentrate on anything else and it gave me a headache. I don’t know if you can still hear it. Watch, listen.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” he said after a moment of silence. “It was probably just part of your nerves. But I’ll check with my crew to see if there was anything wrong in the lower decks if you’re hearing it from out here.”

Changing back into your regular clothes, you tried remembering where and why that particular sound irritated you. It brought back the flashbacks of you trying to read quietly and someone’s watch going off as you were getting absorbed in the storyline. It was even more annoying when several others went off at similar intervals as if they were timing the beeping. Timing, countdown, timer...you removed your gloves, gasping audibly when you saw perfect zeros on your wrist. But how-you’ve been on boats and ships several times and it never happened. What could you have possibly done out of the ordinary that triggered it? The only thing that happened was meeting Jihoon, and come to think of it, the beeping started when he sat next to you.

Slowly, you tried putting the pieces together as you dove out of the dressing room, skidding to find Soonyoung... no not him, because what if maybe, you were supposed to meet Jihoon all this time? After all, what were the odds of being in the same part of the city so many times and how likely was the possibility of just missing each other? You thought back to every time the timer was in its last few seconds only to change just as something else popped up. What if he’s the mythical- “Soulmate!” It made sense after all. You’d read a few books arguing they hadn’t completely vanished. The8’s newest painting is rumored to be based on a pair of soulmates he heard about. But you? Having a chose one? Could that even happen? And that damn beeping was getting loud again. You just wanted to shut it off, but how? How?!

“Y/N, watch out!” A hand locked onto your wrist, pulling you back just as a car sped by. In an instant, three pups on the street pranced happily around your feet and that of your savior yipping and licking at your shoes until their owner called them individually as past, present and future. They barked excitedly once more before they walked away, disappearing right before your eyes. “Are you okay?” Jihoon asked. “I was over there, getting some coffee and I saw you. You looked dazed, and I called you.”

You looked at him, really looked at him. He didn’t even look remotely bothered or amazed that the scariest moment of both your lives happened so casually. Did he even know? Not responding, you pulled up the sleeve that wasn’t rolled down.

“Hey! What are you d-” He cut himself off when you showed him exactly what was going on in your head. And the ringing? Finally stopped.

“My, my! I did not expect this to happen today!” An older woman clapped giddily, breaking whatever trance had happened between you and Jihoon. “Jeonghan! It finally happened! I told you!”

“Are you guys ready?” You asked the crowd excitedly. Well, crowd wasn’t exactly the right word. It was a small gathering of the people you and Jihoon knew...mostly Jihoon. You had only invited Soonyoung and Mingyu (who was currently sporting a sprained wrist, which he swore up and down he didn’t do) for the unveiling. Jihoon, introverted as he was, took it upon himself to ask everyone he knew to come along. You’d met Wonwoo, his best friend; and with Wonwoo came his friend Hansol who had a soulmate that couldn’t be separated unless everyone wanted to be burned alive. With Hansol’s soulmate came your employee (small world!) He also invited his friend Joshua who apparently also had a soulmate, but they didn’t spend time together, so he brought his friend who also worked alongside him at a thrift store. You also met Seokmin, the boy had taken your call when placing an order for the reopening. He came along with Seungkwan who had also had a soulmate literally bound together by a red string. (And you ended up making a deal with her too that would benefit the museum and her growing collection.) And lastly, he brought along Chan, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Auntie Jihye, the kind lady who explained that Jihoon was in fact your soulmate. You never imagined something like this but it made sense.

With everyone’s eager nods, you proudly opened the velvet curtain, displaying the room dedicated to the one that made you fall in love with art: The8. Since he had the biggest room, you had taken it upon yourself to put a piano there and it was where Jihoon was pouring his heart out as he hit the keys. The idea of finding his soulmate still made him kinda skeptical but it didn’t weird him out like before. It’d take just a bit more faith for him to actually make him believe. And he got along famously with Soonyoung which helped his case. You had finally returned the missing ring to him, something he didn’t even know he lost until you presented it to him, further proving to him that maybe some things science has no explanation for.

“I’ll be right back,” your best friend excused himself, putting his phone away. You nodded at him, entertaining your guests, feeling just a bit more complete than when you had ever felt. You finally made some new friends, found out you weren’t so strange after all (though that timer reset, and gave you an estimated timeframe of your next milestone with Jihoon). “I hope you don’t mind,” Soonyoung said when he came back, “but I invited someone else.”

“Might as well bring him in,” you shrugged heading to Jihoon who looked just as happy as you felt in that moment. You scratched his head absently, letting his music seep into your soul.

“Great! Hey Hao, you can come in now!”

Jihoon’s fluid movements came to an offkey halt as his guest none other than the great The8 entered the room shyly but with a powerful undertone that demanded attention and pulled you next to him so you could compose yourself. Jihoon was quickly learning just how unpredictable your best friend was and all he could do was throw his arm around you and laugh at your shocked expression.

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otomeonfleek · 6 years

Text

Imagine: If Voltage guys were Life-Hack College Students

No one asks for these wonderful shit pieces, but they tickle my fancy and I deliver unlike Digiorno. It’s also in honor of how I start uni again tmrw. Sup junior yr.

The following is based off of likely real events in being horrifically innovative as a poor college student.

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Shusei Hayakawa from Our Two Bedroom Story

1. Unplug everything when leaving the house

After an exhausting week of midterms, you and Shusei were due for a well-deserved date. You eagerly wait in front of his apartment door and faintly hear him clambering on the other side. Within seconds, the door slams open and he sends a sheepish smile. “(Y/N)!! You’re here!”

You suppress a laugh at how frazzled he seems with his light tresses sticking up in random directions and the stain on his favorite gray hoodie. Sometimes he could be a complete ditz and forget to get ready on time. “Hey! Are you ready to go?”

He nods with a bright smile and says, “Just give me a minute! You can step inside for now.” Stepping to the side, he lets you enter and starts to flit around the room.

Curious, you slip off your shoes and lean against the arm of his beat-up leather sofa.

The blonde starts to chatter mindlessly as he wrestles his arm into every nook and cranny of the room, casually pulling out electrical cords. From the TV to the toaster and AC, he unplugs every single power outlet without batting a lash. Even dangling his long legs above the back of the couch and his voice is muffled, likely from the blood rushing to his head, he’s still speaking to you normally as he seeks out the final plug.

He slides back and jumps to his feet, “Ah. We should get going now or we’ll be late for the lunch special.” Without missing a beat, he strides to the front door and slips on his worn converse.

“...Shusei...Why’d you unplug everything??” You can’t help, but ask.

Since arriving at his apartment, his then chipper mood dips a bit. “O-Oh that. It’s just a habit, I guess! My electric bill is never over $50 ahah.” Chuckling awkwardly, he opens the door with an embarrassed flush on his face.

Noting his drop in mood, you try, “Whoaa!! That’s amazing. You’ll have to teach me more, Master Shusei!” You joke and loop your arm in his.

A fond look takes over and he grins, “Oh, I don’t know if a pupil like you could keep up in the way of the frugal!!”

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Shintaro Ando from When Destiny Comes Knocking:

2. Steal from the rich and give to the poor

One of the best ways to get out and not spend money was taking evening walks. Both you and Shintaro made it a habit to explore nice neighborhoods and judge the houses. It sounded silly, but when you’re scrounging for every penny and dreaming off the high life, it wasn’t too horrid of a date idea. The areas were safe, pleasant to look at, and you weren’t spending a dime.

You often would end the evening in giggles as you pretended to envision the affairs that Margaret would take part in with her husband, Richard, away on business in Madrid.

“Poor Richard. He never saw it coming-with the gardener, nonetheless.” You mumble with faux sympathy as you and your bespectacled beau pass the gated, three-storied mansion with a gaudy outdoor fountain and cobble walkway.

Playing along, he chokes back a laugh and comments, “Well, Richard’s a moron! He should’ve known better. The peonies have been dying for weeks, so he should have known that gardener wasn’t doing no gardening!” His thick Kansai accent comes out to play as he exchanges jokes.

Doubling over in guffaws at the storyline, you are soon joined by your partner in crime as you hold onto another for support. “You’re not wrong-the peonies are shit.” You concur and then stop to admire the next house.

Momentarily mystified at his sudden silence and gaping mouth, you follow his line of vision and pause at the sight of an orange tree. This particular house does not have a gate and you can already hear him thinking.

“No. We can’t.” You state, stiffly.

Ignoring your reasoning, he spares you a blank look and asks, “Do you know how expensive produce is?” Without waiting for your answer, he steps forward with his suddenly beady eyes flitting around for any obvious security cameras.

From your still place, you hiss at him, “I said no!! What if we get caught?” Now paranoid, you similarly start to glance around with worry. Despite being incredibly competent in school as a Dean’s List student, he’s a complete idiot in other life aspects and will likely go to jail for orange theft, you note.

“This guy drives a Lexus!! I think he could stand to lose a few oranges. Besides I haven’t had real fruit in months!” He half-whispers to you as he starts to shamelessly pick off desired oranges from the tree and rest them in the pockets of his sweater.

Before you can argue, the light from that same house flickers on and you both scramble away in the direction of your parked Toyota.

You don’t bother to glance back to see if he’s close behind as you shout, “If we go to jail because you can’t spend $5 on fruit, I’ll kill you!!”

There’s a thump behind you and you can only hear him cry in anguish, “C-Crap, my oranges!!”

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

Shohei Aiba from In Your Arms Tonight

3. Use your bathtub for laundry when you run out of spare change

After a fun day at Aiba’s neighborhood pool, you both trod into his apartment with intentions of changing. As students, it’s difficult to go out of your way or pay for a gym membership for exercise, and so his pool is heaven sent.

Despite your earlier enjoyment, you now are both miserably dripping with chlorine in your swimwear and holding uselessly saturated towels.

Being a gentleman of sorts, he insists you use the shower first. Taking his offer, you head into the single bathroom and are about to slip off your curve-hugging one piece when you halt in your tracks.

Sliding the glass shower doors open, you nearly lose your shit. “Shohei...” You call out weakly.

Footsteps approach and he knocks from the other side, baritone slightly concerned, “Is something wrong??”

You turn the knob and see him blush, likely expecting you to be nude or clad in a towel. His face loosens and he cocks his head at your still garment-clad appearance, “What’s up?”

Stepping aside, you gesture at the tub filled with laundry soaked in detergent and color-catcher sheets. “Is that what I think it is?”

His instantly blanches and trips over his on words, “A-AH, that is...! I-I... I kind of ran out of change for the laundry mat hahah.”

The earnest brunette groans as he covers his face in shame, collapsing to sit on the closed lid of his toilet seat, “Ugh, you probably think I’m some loser now...”

Yes, the fact that he’s using his bathtub as a makeshift laundry machine due to his shortage of change is slightly off-putting and clearly indicates a life struggle. On top of how comically defeated he looks while pouting on his toilet, you can see how he might think that.

However, you could never think so poorly of your own boyfriend. You fell for him because of how selfless, genuine, and awkwardly goofy he was.

You shake your head and deny him, “No way!”

He perks up at how sure you sound only to hunch over when you follow up with, “I already knew you were a loser!”

Smirking lightly at his groan, you sink to your knees beside the tub and suggest, “Well, we should probably start scrubbing and wringing them dry or your clothes will get ruined.”

His warm caramel irises comically water and he launches himself at you in a tight embrace. “I love you so much!!”

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

Kishi Mamoru from Kissed By the Baddest Bidder

4. Make sure people Venmo you back

You were far from the type to automatically expect for your partner to pay for everything. In fact, you typically did half and half for the check. However, there were some times that truly grated on your nerves when it came to your slacker boyfriend and money.

At a rather pivotal turning point in the film, Mamoru leans over to complain, “I’m hungry.”

You suppress an eye roll at how only he would have the audacity to ignore such an engaging storyline in favor of his stomach. This is a horror film where one of the most beloved protagonists just got strangled by a ghost and he couldn’t care less. Sighing, you suggest, “Go get some popcorn or something then.”

He hums thoughtfully, “Do you want some too?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure...Go away now.” Throwing a hand up to simultaneously shut him up and shoo him, you jolt in your seat at the sudden jumpscare.

“AHH!” The entire movie theater sans Mamoru screams with a follow-up in delighted laughter at how admittedly obvious the scene was.

Your boyfriend sighs and slinks out of the seat to the refreshments stand.

When the movie is long over and you are both lazing around on his apartment couch, you do a double-take at what he says next.

With his battered iPhone 4 in his hand, he mumbles, “So when are you going to venmo me for the popcorn?”

Your (e/c) flit to him in shock and he shamelessly meets your stare. “W-Wait, what? That was your popcorn! I hardly ate any of it,” you protest.

Lazily, he cocks his head with a smirk and says, “So you admit you ate some of it. That will be $2.50 please.” He turns his phone and the cracked screen is pulled up to his venmo account.

For a tiny moment, you are impressed with how he managed to get a confession from you. Damn, maybe Mamoru really could be a detective. He could be sharp when he wanted. You glance at the old Apple model in his hands and mentally snicker at how the Criminal Justice major ironically doesn’t look as sharp.

Switching to reality, you sit up on the couch to fix him with a glare. “Mamo, you really want me to pay you back for $2.50 and for food that I barely ate?”

He shrugs his shoulders and there is just a hint of a grin tugging at his lips, “Every penny counts.”

Huffing, you pull out your phone and start to work on transferring the money. You ignore the victorious expression on his visage and practically feel his excitement at being paid.

Suddenly recalling a recent outing, you pull up the billing information on your bank account and turn to him with a chilling grin. “If it’s going to be like that, then, you owe me for that time I paid for KBBQ! With tip, that’s $27.13 please!” Sarcastically, you open your palm towards him and flex your fingertips in a lecherous way.

At once, the older junior pales and practically starts to sweat with his stormy-hued eyes darting side to side. Rubbing the back of his head, he coughs awkwardly. “I’ll tell you what, babe. You don’t have to pay me back anymore. I’ll take it out of what you owe me.” A sheepish expression takes over his face and you laugh, bumping shoulders with him at how silly worrying over every penny the other owes is.

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

Nozomu Fuse from True Love, Sweet Lies

5. Use flashlights when the lights are broken

Deciding to stay the night at his house to study for an upcoming exam, you excuse yourself to use the bathroom. Your cheery partner only nods, promising to finish the next problem by the time you return. Sometimes statistics was hard, but having a secret genius like Nozomu helps.

You pad over to the toilet and flip on the switch. Pulling your leggings and panties down, you shriek when the lights suddenly flicker off. Left in the dark and in distress, you call out for your boyfriend whose footsteps you can already hear clambering up the steps.

“(Y/N)!! Are you okay?? I’m coming in!” The door knob turns and you shut your legs for decency’s sake.

There is a short second before the sudden glare of his Samsung smartphone’s light momentarily blinds you.

You cover your eyes and demand, “What the hell?? Is there a blackout or something? Why are the lights out?”

Nozomu places his phone down on the flat of the sink counter with the light better helping than blinding you. He starts to chuckle with a slight nervous edge in his voice as he explains, “A-Ah, well...There’s no blackout. The bathroom light’s just kind of broken.”

“...Well, why don’t you fix it?” The solution to his issues is so obvious, you note while trying to ignore how ridiculous you feel sitting on his toilet with your garments wrapped against your ankles.

He doubles over in awkward giggles that sound worriedly stressed before admitting, “Ahah, I don’t have any money for that...yet!”

With his face nearly twitching at how desperately he’s trying to convince you and himself that finances aren’t ruining him, he reaches into a drawer and fishes an emergency light. “In the meantime, you can use this flashlight! It’s more powerful than any phone light and waaay more peaceful than having all these blaring ceiling lights everywhere! Yup, this is fine!” He turns it on and positions it vertically so the beam is shining across the ceiling.

Shooting you a final smile with a pained edge, he exits the room with his smartphone in hand and carefully shuts the door.

After a few moments, you feel your face fall again in noticing the lack of toilet paper. Your memory wanders to his kitchen and the stack of Starbucks napkins you saw earlier.

You need to help this man.

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

Toma Kiriya from Irresistable Mistakes

6. Use cafe wifi when your internet’s down

You were walking to your dorm after a late-night gym session when you noticed Toma standing in front of your campus Starbucks with an employee. The brunette with a notorious attitude problem was clutching his laptop case in one hand and in the other holding a water cup.

As you got closer, you could hear what was being exchanged and felt your soul leaving its body.

“Sir, I told you that we’re going to have to ask you to leave.” The barista in the infamous green apron states calmly, an exhausted expression apparent on their face from working hectic shifts with lunatics like your boyfriend as clientele.

Accordingly, the accounting major huffs and strikes a defiant pose. His chin juts up and his eyes steel, “I already told you that I bought something! Why can’t I stay??” He raises his drink as if it will automatically save him from this argument.

The other college student’s visage turns blank as they state, “...Sir, you only bought a water cup. Second, I told you that it’s already closing time.” With frustrating wavering through, the employee glances down at their smartwatch for emphasis.

“Listen buddy, my internet’s been down this whole week. I need just fifteen more minutes of wifi to finish my essay on microeconomic theory and I know that the modem is too far to connect when I’m sitting out here! So for the love of all that is caffeinated, please let me stay!!” Toma’s cold attitude is suddenly overshadowed by his clear desperation as he pleads.

Sighing, the worker asks with a slightly bored look, “How long have you been awake?”

“Thirty-two hours, but who’s counting?” Your boyfriend rubs at his eyes blearily, the typical flannel of his whipping around him as the air outside grows colder.

Budging with sudden empathy for his fellow university student, the barista stands aside and props the door open. “Fine, you can stay...Some of us wanted to finish some assignments anyway and the internet in the library is shit.”

Before the hopeful swimmer/accounting major can enter, you decide to finally jog up to them. “Wait!! I’ll take him. This is my boyfriend and I can worry about him from here! Thank you!” You wrap your hands around his arm and gently tug him away from the somewhat relieved coffee-worker.

In a confused and exhausted stupor, the male groans, “(Y-N), how the hell did you get here? I almost got in and you ruined it!”

Rolling your eyes, you explain, “Sweetie, don’t bother the nice Starbucks employees. They want to go home too.”

With his arm in yours, you steer him towards your dorm building. He teeters a bit from the lack of sleep and screeches to a halt, “But my essay!” From yourself to the earlier horrified baristas, it is clear to all that Toma takes his studies seriously to the point of forgoing his shame and health.

Observing the dark blotches underneath his eyes and his heavily wrinkled garments, you say, “I think you should eat properly first. I made some soup...And there’s internet at my dorm.”

When his fatigued orbs lighten and he leans more towards you with his laptop case in tow, you know that he’ll be fine.

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

Kenzo Yasukawa from After School Affairs

7. Use all forms of payment

With midterms finally over, you and your boyfriend decide to visit the mall to celebrate. Walking hand-in-hand, you air out your grievances over how one of your professors grade when Kenzo abruptly starts walking faster.

In his towering height, he manages to tug you with ease towards a nearby gamestore. His breathing is suddenly irregular as he presses his free hand against the business’s glass, amber optics locked on a particular ninja and robot-themed poster.

“I can’t believe it released today. I have to get it.” He’s practically talking to himself as he marches into the store, you trailing behind in slight bewilderment.

Making a bee-line to the wall of feudal Japan and mecha-accented items, his hand darts out to snatch a game off the shelve. As if suddenly remembering your presence and ongoing date, the blonde grins sheepishly. “Aww sorry, I’ve been waiting for Robot Ninjas 3 forever!”

The game title makes you cringe, but you only nod in understanding. As his partner, you accept his peculiar tastes.

After a brief wait in line, he steps up to pay with you at his side. Exchanging cordial pleasantries with the cashier, the aspiring pre-medical student fishes out his wallet and starts to produce various forms of payment. He places a random stack of dollar bills on the counter, then slides out his cards.

Without missing a beat, he shoots a cheery smile with closed eyes and asks, “Is it okay if I pay $16 in cash, do $30 on debit, and pay the rest from my credit card?”

You feel your heart hammer in your chest for your boyfriend and want to help him pay, but know that he wouldn’t want that. Suppressing your urge to pay, you force yourself to watch what happens next.

When the employee hesitates, Kenzo’s eyes flutter open and seem strained as he explains in a low voice, “I’m sorry, but I’m dirt poor right now because I just bought a $150 MCAT prep book and have been waiting for this game for years.” The normal liveliness and peace in his amber stare dies out and his mouth twitches.

You nearly lose it when the cashier suddenly nods and says, “Dude, same. I got you.” Then, he proceeds to enter in the different payments into the POS system before seeing you off warmly as you both leave.

Turning to your boyfriend, you peck him on the cheek and say, “Why don’t we go back to the apartment so you can play and I’ll order us some pizza?” You casually include your offer of getting dinner.

His eyes crinkle with joy and he wraps his arm around your shoulder to press a kiss against your forehead, “I’ll go easy on you for one round then.”

#voltage inc #love 365 #toma kiriya #mamoru kishi #Our Two Bedroom Story #when destiny comes knocking #In Your Arms Tonight #Nozomu Fuse #Irresistible mistakes #After School Affairs #kissed by the baddest bidder #imagine #shohei aiba #voltage games #voltage otome

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quicksilversquared · 6 years

Text

How to Fake a Marriage ch. 5

(AO3) (FF.net)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Marinette let herself smile as she carefully pieced together panels for a dress at the end of a long day of work. While it was starting to get late, she was almost done with the base of the dress and it was already shaping up to be just as pretty as she had imagined it. She almost wanted to just forget the time and keep working until the piece was done, but she couldn't. Adrien would be expecting her over at his apartment soon.

Marinette couldn't stop her grin from growing as she thought about her friend. She had managed to avoid any awkward conversations with Adrien ever since she dodged his question about Alya's text (she was still grumpy with her best friend about that, but at least Alya hadn't said anything about "at least she finally confessed" or something like that; Marinette wasn't sure how she could have recovered from that. Instead, she had managed to laugh off his questioning by saying that well, of course Alya had wanted them to get together, because then they could go on double dates and Alya had probably thought that it would be fun. Adrien, the oblivious dork, had taken her at her word). They had been cooking together every night since; it was faster than cooking separately, they didn't have to worry about things spoiling as much as they would have to if they ate alone, and they were having a lot of fun hanging out together.

They might have gotten close during lycée, but they were growing even closer now.

Adrien had started his classes earlier in the week and from what Marinette could understand, he absolutely loved them. They were far more interesting than his business courses had been, at least so far, and his professors were great. The best part, Adrien had told Marinette, was that physicists didn't really seem to care a whole lot about fashion, so none of them had any clue who he or his father were. They weren't about to treat him with kid gloves just because his father was a giant in business.

Also, the physics students had no idea who he was. For possibly the first time in history, Adrien had the chance to make friends without his father's influence hanging over his head.

"The business students all figured it out pretty fast," Adrien had told Marinette over dinner one night. "And they thought if they befriended me, they would be able to get an internship with Gabriel's business department pretty easily. It got old really fast."

Marinette could imagine. It was probably for the best that Adrien wasn't particularly interested in fashion and design because he wouldn't have had an easy time finding real friends there and he would never be able to break free of his father's shadow.

"Are you really still here, Marinette?" Madam Rosalie popped her head around the door. "That can wait until tomorrow, it's already getting dark outside."

"I'm just finishing this up. I didn't want to lose my place." Marinette held up the piece she was working on. "I'll only be ten more minutes, tops."

"All right. Good night!" Madam Rosalie called, vanishing back around the door. Marinette resumed her sewing as her boss's heels clicked away down the hall.

"You really shouldn't stay too long," Tikki said, flying out from hiding and perching on Marinette's shoulder. "I know you let Adrien know you were running late, but he can't wait forever."

"Has he sent any more texts?"

Tikki zipped down to Marinette's bag and pulled out her phone, unlocking it. "Just a confirmation that he got your text."

"Can you let him know that I'll be done in ten- no, nine, maybe eight- minutes?" Marinette finished one seam and moved to the next. "I'd hurry, but this can't be rushed. Photoshoot pieces have to be perfect."

"One second- done! Text sent!" Tikki tapped Send and put the phone down. "That's a really pretty design, Marinette! Is it one of yours?"

"Mmm. Partly." Marinette bit her lip as she carefully worked the seam. "The top part of the dress is Madam Rosalie's design, the bottom is mine. She was having trouble figuring out what would work best with the top design and had all of the interns take a shot at it, and mine won. I wanted to do all of the sewing myself so I can get all of the details just how I envisioned them."

"It looks good!" Tikki cheered. A buzz caught her interest, and she held up Marinette's phone. "Adrien said okay, he's started making dinner so just go straight to his flat, it should be ready to eat as soon as you get back."

"Adrien is a lifesaver." Marinette loved not having to cook every night, loved not eating the same leftovers for a week straight, loved having the new recipes Adrien brought with him…. and, of course, loved having the company. She didn't doubt that later on they would have problems with both of them being busy at the same time, but for now they were doing a pretty good job of trading off cooking nights when they were busy.

"He also said that he has a late meeting with a professor tomorrow, so if you can cook then that would be good," Tikki reported.

"It'll be my turn anyway," Marinette said. She snipped a couple threads and turned the dress again to attach the next panel. "And I didn't really have to start the skirt part tonight, I just wanted to get it done. I'll find a better stopping point tomorrow."

It actually only took Marinette seven more minutes to finish all she needed to get done for the night- the zipper could wait, after all- and then she was jogging down the stairs towards the exit. If her apartment were any further away, she would transform into Ladybug to cover the distance faster. As it stood, it would probably take just as long to find a safe place to transform and detransform as it would take for her to just powerwalk the short distance.

"Nice timing," Adrien called from his kitchen when Marinette burst in his door, panting and clutching the cramp in her side from sprinting up the stairs. "I just took everything out from the oven."

"I'll leave earlier tomorrow," Marinette promised, setting her bag down by Adrien's couch and heading over to help set the table. "Sorry about the delay, I just wanted to get one last thing done and it wasn't a thing I could just set down and pick up tomorrow."

"That's fine." There was a clatter from the kitchen. "Do you often work that late? You haven't since I got here."

Marinette finished straightening the napkins and turned to watch Adrien pull out the plates as she thought about the question. "I don't think so? Maybe once. I don't like working so long, it burns me out and then I don't do as well the next day. I think it'll be somewhat unavoidable once we get close to Fashion Week, though."

"Hopefully midterms won't line up with Fashion Week," Adrien said as they served up the baked macaroni and cheese. "We'd both be busy all the time and end up having frozen pizza for a week."

Marinette made a face at that. She really wasn't particularly fond of that idea. Leftovers was one thing; having the same thing day after day sounded absolutely awful. "One of the older interns suggested making stuff in advance and freezing it so we don't end up doing that. I have a couple things stashed away in the freezer already that we could pull out and reheat as needed."

Adrien grinned as they headed to the table. "Like a squirrel. And really, already? Planning that far in advance?"

"It was mostly because I made enough food that I couldn't eat it before it spoiled," Marinette admitted. "So there's, like, half a lasagna and some soup and a couple other odds and ends."

"I have an ice tray," Adrien offered helpfully, thinking of his barren freezer. "And maybe some frozen corn."

Marinette pressed her lips together as she tried not to laugh. "Tasty."

Laughing, Adrien swatted at her. "Oh, shush. You know what I meant."

"Do I?"

Their dinners together continued as Adrien's semester went on and the weather slowly started to get chillier. There were a couple nights when they couldn't get together- Marinette had to work late, or Adrien was invited over by a classmate or a friend of his father's- and there were a few nights when they invited other people to join them, but for the most part it was just Adrien and Marinette.

And that was the way they liked it.

Conversation sometimes hit a lull when Adrien had spent the entire day studying and Marinette had done nothing other than hem things or do paperwork for Madam Rosalie, but then neither of them had a problem with turning on the TV and bonding over commentary on whatever show was showing on TV. Cooking shows seemed to be a favorite of theirs, especially cooking contests. They got way too invested in it, but that just made it more fun.

"Do you want to watch a movie later?" Adrien asked Marinette over the sound of their favorite cooking show running in the background as he collected the plates after they finished eating. "I think there's a pretty good one showing on TV a little later."

Marinette bit her lip. She did, but she also had been planning on going out for a run as Ladybug and she would be too tired after the movie ended to go out. Granted, she could always wait for another day, but she really just wanted to transform and burn off some energy. It had been way too long since she last flew over the rooftops.

In fact, she hadn't gone out since Adrien arrived. They had always spent their evenings together, even if Adrien was sitting at the table studying and she was curled up on the sofa drawing or reading. It was nice to hang out with another person in the evenings, even if it meant that she couldn't talk to Tikki as much.

"I think I might pass," Marinette said at last, raising her voice a little so Adrien could hear her over the sound of the TV and the running water in the kitchen. "I've been having a little trouble sleeping and was hoping to catch up on it tonight."

"Okay." Adrien rinsed the plates off before sticking them in the dishwasher. "That sounds good, actually. I might do the same." He winced. "I had an eight a.m. class today and I forgot how much I hated those."

"Owtch." Marinette remembered those classes. It seemed that despite her best intentions, she had gotten at least one day a week with the early classes, thanks to either scheduling conflicts, filled sections, or classes that were only offered at the early hour. Needless to say, it was very frustrating. She liked sleeping in too much to really be able to enjoy those particular classes.

"D'you want to take off now? I can deal with the rest of the dishes," Adrien offered. "There's really not that many."

"No, I can help!" Marinette assured him hastily, rising from the table to bring the dishes of leftovers into the kitchen. "Besides, I want to know to see if the asshole chef gets eliminated."

Adrien sniggered as he glanced over at the TV, where the chef in question was currently frantically stirring some sort of stir-fry on-screen. It looked like it might be a little charred. "You really have it out for him, huh?"

"He's got a big head. It just rubbed me the wrong way."

Adrien glanced at the screen again as Marinette transferred the leftovers into smaller containers. "He's really sweating. Everyone else seems like they're doing all right, though."

"That's good." They fell silent for a few minutes as Marinette stashed the leftovers in the fridge, rearranging other things so they would fit, and Adrien started washing the things that couldn't go in the dishwasher. The TV prattled on in the background as the timer counted down and the chiefs rushed to finish their dishes. As Marinette and Adrien finished putting the last things away, Marinette's least favorite chef was really sweating. It was looking more and more likely that he might be the one to get eliminated.

"Do you want me to record the rest of the episode for tomorrow?" Adrien asked as he closed the last cupboard. "Or do you want to stay until it finishes?"

Waiting until the episode finished could take another half an hour with commercials. Marinette didn't care about it that much. "Record it, I think. I'll probably enjoy it more if I'm not about to fall asleep. Besides, we can just skip through the commercials if it's recorded."

"Sounds good. Good night, Marinette."

"Good night, Adrien."

Marinette flashed one last smile at Adrien as she stepped out of his apartment for the night. As soon as the door closed, though, the facade of weariness promptly vanished. She unlocked her apartment's door as fast as she could before ducking inside, relocking the door, and making a beeline for her balcony. Tikki popped out of her pocket, just as eager to transform as Marinette herself was.

"Tikki, transform me!" Marinette cried as she darted across the room. The pink light washed over her just before she reached the door, and Ladybug darted out of the door and into the waiting city.

It wasn't like running around in Paris. Even after a couple months, the rooftops of London were still unfamiliar and strange. Unlike in Paris where she was often spotted and would take breaks to come down from the roofs to greet people, she tried to stay out of well-lit areas; while it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for people to see Ladybug in London, it might put her identity in jeopardy. People would be scouring the city, trying to find people who had been in Paris during the time that Ladybug and Chat Noir were active in an effort to uncover Ladybug's identity. Keeping that in mind, Marinette had asked Tikki to alter her outfit, making it darker and better able to blend into the night. Since it was already fairly dark- she had changed her outfit's design to have black knee-high "boots" and black up her arms and over her shoulders back before she and her partner defeated Hawkmoth- it was mostly just a matter of darkening her trademark fire-engine red suit to a deeper shade of red and extending the black areas just a bit. Even with the changes, she kept up on the rooftops and out of busy areas to minimize the possibility of her being spotted.

Since Marinette hadn't seen any headlines about Ladybug in London either in newspapers or on the Ladyblog, she was pretty certain that she had been successful. It definitely helped that the Londoners weren't looking for her. If they spotted anything on the rooftops out of the corners of their eyes, they were more likely to ignore it and write it off as a bird. And further helping was the fact that Londoners generally didn't go around staring up at rooftops.

Ladybug flew through the air, twisting into a flip and resisting the urge to let out a joyous shout. She loved the feeling of flying, the knowledge that she could let herself drop and she would be able to catch herself without a problem. It was more fun when she could let herself whoop or shout during a particularly intense flip, but that would blow her cover just as much as a bright red suit would.

It really just wasn't the same. Besides, she was definitely missing having her partner by her side. Running around alone was just so much less fun.

Ladybug had only been out for ten minutes when she caught sight of a dark shape running over the rooftops. She immediately landed lightly on a roof, hiding behind a chimney and peeking out to get a look at whatever had joined her in running above the city. The shape apparently hadn't seen her, as they kept running over the rooftops without pausing. Ladybug's mind raced- surely there couldn't be an akuma in London, they had defeated Hawkmoth and the butterfly Miraculous was back in Master Fu's hands- and she was about to worry that the Miraculous had been stolen again when the figure shot up into the air on a long, sticklike thing before helicoptering his way back down to the rooftops in a very familiar manner.

Chat Noir!

Ladybug didn't hesitate to take off after her partner, racing over the rooftops as she followed him. He had gotten a head start when she froze in surprise, but she had an advantage because she was far more familiar with this skyline than her partner was. She knew how fast she could run without tripping, where she had to slow down and where the shortcuts were. If she hadn't run over these rooftops dozens of times before, she wouldn't have stood a chance against Chat Noir's night vision.

As focused as Chat Noir was on figuring out his path, he didn't even hear Ladybug racing up behind him. She bowled into him without slowing down at all, sending both of them flying down into the empty street below. Chat Noir yelped and struggled as they fell, and only just managed to twist so they landed on their feet.

"What on earth-" Chat Noir started, whipping around with his baton raised defensively. He froze when he caught sight of Ladybug standing there with a huge grin on her face. "Bugaboo?"

"I didn't know you were coming to London!" It would be harder for them to remain unnoticed if both of them were in London now, especially since they liked calling back and forth as they flew over the city. Still, it would be much more fun going out if Chat Noir was going to be out and about as well. She couldn't race herself across the city, after all.

"Yeah, I didn't know for sure until after you left." Chat Noir put away his baton and stepped forward to envelop Ladybug in a hug. "It's good to see you again! I really missed you."

Ladybug grinned and hugged her partner back. She had missed her kitten a lot as well. He was one of her best friends, after all, even if they didn't know each other's real names. Even after only a week in London, Ladybug had considered trying to track down Chat Noir next time she was back in Paris to see if her partner would be interested in getting a secondary phone so that the y could stay in contact while they were apart. Maybe they could set it up now, while Chat Noir was in London. Or maybe- better yet- Chat Noir would be in the area for a while and the phones wouldn't even be necessary.

"Are you in London for a while?" Ladybug asked, voice muffled by Chat Noir's chest. She couldn't let herself get her hopes up- her partner might just be visiting a friend in the city, after all, or maybe he was on vacation. The chances that he would actually be in London for the same amount of time that she was going to be there were slim. If he was in town for a vacation, they would probably only have a week together at most. If he had gotten a job in London, he would probably remain even after she returned to Paris.

That would actually be crushing. She didn't want to permanently be apart.

"I am! I'll hopefully be here for a couple years," Chat Noir said as they loosened their grip on each other and stepped back. "And you? Are you going to be in London for a while? I wasn't expecting to see you here!"

"I'm here for a year," Ladybug told him. She was considering the possibility of extending her internship since she was getting a lot of good experience (and because hanging out with Adrien was fun and she didn't want to abandon him in London, even if he could probably take care of himself), but she wouldn't be able to ask about doing that until much later in the year. Besides, things could change between now and then. Maybe something else would come up that would change her mind.

Chat Noir's ears drooped. "I'll be here for three. Are you going back to Paris after this year?"

"Probably." That was what she had originally been planning, because she had absolutely no intention of trying to get a fashion job overseas (she wanted to be able to see her friends and her parents on a somewhat regular basis, after all) and while she liked London well enough, she liked Paris more. There were plenty of labels based in and around Paris that Marinette liked and would gladly apply to. There was no point in getting Chat Noir's hopes up by mentioning the possibility of her staying longer now.

Her partner sighed. "Bugger. At least you're here now, though," he added, perking up. "That's more than I was expecting. I was planning on flying back to Paris once you showed up there again just so I could let you know that I was out of the country. I couldn't exactly leave a note somewhere hoping you would find it, since it's more likely that it would blow away or something."

"It might get made into a pigeon's nest," Ladybug suggested. "Or eaten by a rat."

Chat Noir grinned, and the familiar impish expression made Ladybug . "Eaten, my Lady? I imagine such terrible news would taste pawsitively awful."

Ladybug just groaned.

Adrien could not believe that Ladybug was in London. What were the chances of both of them ending up in the same city, and in the same part of the same city to boot? It was absolutely fantastic to be able to see her again, even though they would have to be extra careful if they wanted to avoid being spotted. Now he had two friends he knew in London, which was far more than he had ever expected.

It was great.

"I really wasn't expecting that," Adrien told an uninterested Plagg as he washed up for bed. Adrien had jumped on the opportunity to transform and go out when Marinette left early to go to bed. At best, he figured, he would get in a good run and maybe get to do a little stargazing. At worst, he would dry out his skin running around in the cool night air.

Instead, he had been knocked off a roof by a very enthusiastic Ladybug and they had spent an hour running around and catching up with each other before going their separate ways for the night.

Adrien had missed his partner ever since she left Paris. She had told him that it would be a couple months, at the very least, probably at least a year. He hadn't asked for details- even after all of these years and Hawkmoth's defeat, they kept their civilian lives private- but clearly whatever it was that was taking her away from Paris had brought her right to London.

"Are you going to get all sappy over her again?" Plagg asked, annoyance clear in his voice. The kwami had been more than a little exasperated by Adrien's moping in the days and weeks after Ladybug's departure. Adrien thought he had been perfectly justified in his misery; after all, being Chat Noir just wasn't the same when he was prowling the rooftops by himself instead of alongside his Lady. It was lonely going out at night and not running into her, especially since he couldn't keep in contact with her any other way. But now-

Now she was here, in London with him, at least for a year. They wouldn't be able to meet up every night- Adrien wouldn't be able to transform and go out every night without blowing off Marinette, and he was not going to do that, and no doubt Ladybug would have nights when she was busy as well and unable to go out- but at least there was the possibility of them running into each other. It was more than he had expected.

"I wasn't sappy," Adrien said at last, resisting the urge to spin in happy circles around the room. His downstairs neighbor was probably asleep by now, and they would hardly appreciate him clomping around and waking them up. "And we're friends, why shouldn't I be glad to see her again? We haven't had the chance to hang out for forever!"

Plagg rolled his eyes.

"I'm glad she's here. I haven't been able to see her for months." Their accidental meet-ups had gotten fewer and farther between after they both entered university, though they had made some effort to see each other on a semi-regular basis. Both superheroes had thankfully been in Paris that first time around, but Ladybug had an internship of some sort on top of her studies and he had been both a model and a student. Their schedules were packed, and they had been lucky to be able to meet up once a week when they were out and about.

(Or course, not all of their run-ins were due to luck- Adrien always snuck out whenever he saw news on the Ladyblog that Ladybug had been spotted out and about, and it only took him a month to realize that there was a pattern to her outings. Granted, that pattern changed every time the semester switched, but it was still a pattern that he could- and did- take advantage of.)

"I wonder if we could try to set up a schedule," Adrien wondered out loud. He hadn't needed to in Paris- while he lived in his father's home, Gabriel Agreste never checked up on his son after dinner. He was free to take off into the night, so long as he went to bed at a reasonable time so he could be up and alert at a time his father approved of. Here, though, he normally hung out with Marinette until one of them decided to go to bed. They didn't necessarily talk much, but having the company was nice. Adrien liked the little snippets of conversation that occasionally popped up as they worked- or, rather, as he studied and as Marinette read or doodled. It would be rude to Marinette if he started shooing her out of his apartment or dining and dashing when they ate at her place just so he could maybe run into Ladybug. Besides, he liked hanging out with Marinette. She was one of his oldest friends as well, and she also would only be in London for a year unless she got an extension with Madam Rosalie's company. "Maybe if I beg off to go to bed early every night I have an 8 o'clock class..."

Plagg snorted. "And then you'll be miserable and sleepwalking into everything the next day and Marinette will wonder why."

"I don't stay out that late." Adrien glanced at the clock as he turned off the lights and slid into bed. "It's only just now one, and we stayed out longer than we normally do catching up." As much as they could catch up, that was. Despite Hawkmoth's defeat, they had yet to share their identities with each other. Adrien really had to bring up the subject sometime soon and see if Ladybug's kwami had changed her stance on sharing their identities at all. It was really frustrating trying to edit himself all of the time, steering away from subjects that might give away who he was behind the mask. If they could share identities, Adrien would. "And I can drink tea or coffee or something to wake myself up. It'll be fine."

Plagg didn't look convinced.

Adrien was positively dragging the next morning. He hadn't been able to fall asleep right away after getting into bed since he was so distracted with thinking about what Ladybug might be doing in London and how he might tackle asking her about the secret identity thing again, so he was running on far less sleep than he had planned. It had probably been close to two o'clock before he actually fell asleep.

"I toooooold you so," Plagg sing-songed from his jacket collar as Adrien stumbled blearily into class, fingers clutching a mug of green tea laced with sugar and honey. It wasn't nearly strong enough to wake him up, but Adrien had discovered when he got up that his supply of caffeinated drinks was nearly nonexistent. Apparently he had just kept forgetting to refill things when he went grocery shopping, so he was out of coffee and had been running too late to stop at a coffee shop on his way to class. "You talked to your lovebug for too long. Now you're gonna be sleepwalking for the whole day."

"I would be fine if I had actually been able to fall asleep," Adrien muttered back out of the corner of his mouth. Talking to Plagg before class was always risky- people could see him and ask him what he was doing. It was easier in London compared to back in Paris, where people tended to pay more attention to him, but even now it was getting harder since he was becoming friends with a number of his classmates. They wouldn't hesitate to ask him about his apparent talking to thin air while entering class.

Plagg sniggered and fell silent.

"Hey, dude, how's it going?" Adrien's classmate Paul asked as Adrien slid into his seat. "You look like the walking dead."

"I feel like it, too." There was no point in lying. Paul wasn't going to ask; he knew full well that Adrien wasn't a morning person. Paul, the weirdo, was. Somehow he bounced out of bed fully awake at some ridiculous hour in the morning. Adrien suspected that Paul probably was one of those people that ran or swam laps in the mornings before classes, just so they could be super-productive and (inadvertently) rub it in people's faces.

Admittedly, Adrien used to be like that too. He went to bed early and got up early, often before his alarm went off. Years of nighttime patrols and late-night akuma attacks had thrown off his carefully constructed schedule, and then proper Teenagerhood hit and Adrien was trying his best not to sleep through his alarms. He had at one point tried to recover his earlier sleeping habits, after Hawkmoth had been taken care of, but it seemed that Adrien was doomed to not be a morning person.

Adrien didn't particularly care, but his father did. When he was living at home, every day came with a wake-up call at six in the morning, even if Adrien didn't have anything to do that day or if there had been a late-night photoshoot the night before. One of the many things he loved about London was that he could sleep in.

It was fantastic. Eight o'clock classes were less fantastic.

Paul sighed and shook his head. "I've been up for hours, dude. You missed out on a gorgeous sunrise."

"Ugh."

"All these purples and pinks and blues-" Once they had gotten to know each other better and the other boy found out how much Adrien hated eight o'clock classes, Paul had decided to go out of his way to annoy Adrien with his cheeriness when Adrien was still wishing he were in bed. It was much like having another Plagg around him all the time, except a Plagg that was annoying him with incessant cheeriness instead of being a complete and total grump. Paul also didn't constantly scarf Camembert, which was a relief. That was strictly a Plagg thing. "You should have seen it! And I got to enjoy it with my fresh chocolate croissant and a smoothie..."

"Yeah, yeah," Adrien started, rolling his eyes and glancing out the windows. He froze when he realized that it was overcast outside and had been since the previous night. He turned back to Paul with a suspicious squint. "It's cloudy. You couldn't have seen a sunrise this morning."

Paul grinned.

"And you hate croissants," Adrien continued, giving his friend a look. "You think they're tasteless and dry- which, by the way, you're still wrong about that, they're delicious- so you never eat them. Very funny."

"I thought so." Paul glanced down at his phone, where it was sitting on top of his desk. "But it's supposed to be clear tomorrow morning, if you were interested-"

Adrien made a face, and Paul laughed again.

"All right, settle down," their teacher called as she finally got the overhead projector to turn on. "How is everyone on this lovely morning...no? Okay, fair enough. We're picking up where we left off last time..."

The morning dragged on. Though Adrien found his classes interesting- much better than business, for certain- even his sugar-laced tea wasn't helping him focus much. He was distracted by thoughts of Ladybug. Would they run into each other again soon? Would she be open to sharing identities? He didn't want to push, because if he did Ladybug might take off and avoid him, and then he would never see her again, because she wouldn't go out to patrol until she had left London and then maybe she would move somewhere else, like Italy-

"Dude, are you seriously spacing out right now?"

Adrien blinked and the room swam properly back into view. He sat in front of his computer, stimulated experiment complete, and-

He swore. He had spaced out mid-run and had completely forgotten to time the stupid thing. He would have to set up and run the entire thing again, which meant that he would probably have to stay after class to finish, which meant he would miss his bus back to his apartment and would have to wait another half-hour to get his lunch.

Darn it.

Paul raised an eyebrow at Adrien's outburst, but thankfully didn't comment. It probably didn't hurt that Paul spoke no French, so for all he knew Adrien could have been saying "well gee willy wonkers, that's inconvenient".

(spoiler: that wasn't what he said.)

"I need a nap," Adrien decided, switching back to English. "Or coffee. I'm not normally this distracted."

"No kidding. Is everything all right?"

Adrien nodded, even as his attention got divided between Paul and the digital experiment he was resetting. Everything was fine- better than fine, actually, because Ladybug- and the only problem was that he was overthinking things.

"If you say so."

"I just stayed up too late, that's all." With everything set up properly again, Adrien got his stimulated experiment running again, this time with the timer going as well. He would definitely have to keep a close eye on it this run; after all, he didn't have any extra time to spare. Any mistakes, and it would only add on to the time he would have to stay after class to fully complete his assignment. "And then I had trouble falling asleep."

Paul snickered and shook his head, turning back to his own computer. "Night owl. Strange."

"Early bird. Stranger," Adrien shot back. It was a familiar chorus for them by this point in the semester.

"Whatever, dude." Paul glanced at his computer again and briefly turned his attention back to the data sheet they were meant to be filling out. After scribbling down a number and re-setting the experiment for another run, he turned his attention back to Adrien. "Have you started studying for midterms?"

Adrien frowned. "Er, not really?" Midterms were a couple weeks out still, and Adrien was still mainly focused on getting his assignments and readings for his classes completed. Thinking about it now, though, he probably should start reviewing stuff from the start of the semester at least somewhat soon, and he and Marinette definitely needed to start really focusing on stocking up the freezer in case they both got too busy to actually cook. He also really needed to ask her if she knew when Madam Rosalie would be having her runway shows, just so they could start planning.

"I'm going to start this weekend," Paul said. He paused to check on the progress of his experiment before turning to look at Adrien again. "Any interest in a study group?"

"That would be nice." He hoped, at least. Adrien had always wanted to be part of a study group back when he was in his business program, but his busy schedule and the lack of classmates he was actually close to kept him from meeting up with anyone to study. Such groups usually varied in productivity, according to his friends. Some went well, with people filling each other in things they missed or were unsure of. Others, according to Alya and Nino, ended with people cracking up as they imitated professors or shared goofy things they had written down in their notes during lectures. They were good for blowing off some steam, his friends had said, but not particularly useful for learning anything. He had attended study groups with his friends in collège and lycée, of course, but Alya and Adrien together were good at keeping those groups on task. It was easier to scold people back into focusing when he knew them really well and they spent most of their time together anyway.

Paul nodded, looking pleased, and then both boys fell silent as they focused on their "experiments". By the time the clock hand had ticked to the end of class, Paul had wrapped up his assignment. Adrien was still working.

"Good luck, dude," Paul said as he packed up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "I'll text you to set up a time for the study group. It probably won't be right away since we should probably figure out what we each need to focus on first, but it would probably be better to not wait until last minute."

"Sounds good," Adrien said, glancing up from his computer to wave as Paul left. Soon he was the only person left in the lab.

"You just missed the bus," Plagg informed him from his bag. "Hurry up, or the next one'll leave without you, too, and you'll have to walk home in the rain."

"I can't rush the experiment, Plagg. The program doesn't work like that." Adrien checked his timer and filled out yet another entry in his data sheet. He was almost done, so unless he got seriously distracted he wouldn't have any trouble catching the next bus. Hopefully. "I'm almost done anyway. I'll be packing up in probably five minutes."

"And then you're going to go visit your wife before you finally go back to your apartment and give me more cheese. I know how this goes."

Adrien glanced away from his screen for long enough to flash Plagg an annoyed look. "Marinette is my friend and the bus stop is right next to her building. It would be rude not to drop in and say hi."

Plagg gave him a look, which Adrien ignored. "You're going to see her at dinner."

"I know."

"And all evening."

"I know."

"And you saw her yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and the-"

"I know that Plagg, thank you."

Plagg floated over so Adrien could see him out of the corner of his eye. "That's good. I'd thought you'd forgotten, considering that you're going out of your way to see someone you literally see all the time."

"I'm not going out of my way. Madam Rosalie's building is on my way from the bus stop to the apartment building."

"The stairs up to Marinette's cubicle aren't on your way home." Plagg floated closer and Adrien ignored him. It wasn't an easy thing to do, since Plagg would just look like a small black shadow right at the edge of his vision, but Adrien had had plenty of practice ignoring Plagg over the years. "You just want to see your wife like a good husband."

"You do remember that Marinette and I aren't married for real, right?" It was something Adrien found himself saying on an increasingly frequent basis, since Plagg insisted on calling Marinette his wife, just like he had insisted on calling Marinette Adrien's Princess for weeks after the Evillustrator incident. Even though it had been weeks since the fake wedding, Plagg had yet to grow tired of the nickname.

"You might as well be. You spend all of your time together acting all domestic-like. Believe me, I would know," Plagg added, flying up to perch on top of the computer. "More than a few of my Chosens have gotten married. I know the signs."

"You know how to be annoying is what you know," Adrien shot back absently as his experiment wrapped up and he hit his timer to stop it. He scribbled down the numbers he needed, closed the program, and logged off of the computer. "Marinette is my friend and we live right next door to each other, of course we're going to hang out a lot." Adrien glanced back at his computer to make sure it was logging off properly before packing his bag and slinging the strap over his head. Plagg quickly abandoned his perch on the computer to fly into Adrien's bag. "That's all it is. I love Ladybug, remember?"

Plagg made an interesting noise that was somewhere between a snort and a strangled laugh. Adrien decided not to ask.

The walk to the bus station didn't take long, nor did the ride to his stop. After that was a short jaunt up to say hi to Marinette and remind her to actually eat before he headed back to their building to eat his own lunch.

"Your life is so boring these days," Plagg complained as Adrien put his dishes in the sink, poured himself another cup of strong green tea and headed back to the table to spread out his books to study. "You don't go out and do anything, and then what do I get to do with my time? Waste away with subpar cheese, that's what!"

"I have to study, Plagg."

"That's all you ever do. That and flirt with your wife."

Adrien decided not to comment.

After a few more minutes of moping and moaning around the room, Plagg found a bright patch of sun to take a nap in and Adrien dove into his notes. Hours passed as he pored over formulas and theories, jotting down notes on areas he needed to focus on and questions that he needed to ask the professors to clarify concepts. He was so absorbed in his work that he jumped into the air when there was a knock at his door. A second later, he was scrambling to answer it.

"Did you lose track of the time?" Marinette asked in amusement as she stepped into the room and spotted the papers and notebooks scattered across his table. "I thought you would be wondering where I was since I forgot to text, but clearly no concern was needed."

"Is it late?" Adrien asked in surprise, pulling out his phone to check the time. Sure enough, it was late enough that normally by this time, they would have already eaten and would be most of the way through cleaning up. "Wow. Was work busy?"

"I lost track of time," Marinette admitted. "And then I got on a designing kick for the winter collection, but I still had to get my work for the upcoming collection finished after I got done with that."

Adrien laughed. That was so like Marinette to get so distracted that she completely lost track of the time. "Please tell me you get extra time off when you work overtime."

"It would be nice," Marinette said as they headed back into the middle of the room. "Do you want me to cook tonight? You look like you're in the middle of something."

Adrien's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly and they both startled. Marinette's lips quirked upwards in amusement as Adrien laughed again.

"Maybe we need to dip into our leftovers supply," Adrien said after a moment. He wasn't certain how he hadn't noticed that he was getting hungry before, because it was certainly obvious now. "I'm sure we'll be able to refill it before we get into crunch time."

"Sounds good." Marinette headed for the kitchen and started rummaging around in the freezer. "Did you have a good day at university?"

"It started too early," Adrien complained as he moved to clear the table. "I couldn't fall asleep and then my classes started at stupid o'clock."

Marinette's head popped back out of the freezer so she could give him a puzzled look. "I thought your eight o'clock was yesterday, not today? Or did I remember wrong?"

"It was yesterday," Adrien admitted sheepishly. Right. He supposedly went to bed early last night. "But I ended up not being able to settle down, so I watched some stuff on TV, and then I still couldn't fall asleep, and then my class started at nine. I probably could have slept for another hour or two."

"Did you take a nap after you finished?"

That...sounded like a really good idea, actually. "No. I should have, maybe, but Paul was talking about setting up a study group and I wanted to be prepared for that. I hadn't really done a ton of review so far this semester, so I just did a ton of it this afternoon."

"Don't burn yourself out," Marinette advised as she pulled a glass pan out of the cupboard to reheat the leftovers and started preheating the oven. "I've done that before and then ended up not studying closer to the actual exams because I was so tired of spending all my time with my face in my books."

"I'll definitely take breaks," Adrien assured her. "I don't want to burn myself out, not in the first round of tests in my first semester here." His breaks would probably come in the form of going out running over the rooftops at night, but he couldn't exactly tell Marinette that.

"That's good." Marinette spun around again to dig through one of his drawers. She found the ladle she wanted within a few seconds, making Adrien smile. Even though she kept things in her apartment in slightly different place, she had been over enough times to memorize where he kept things. "Do you have projects as well? I know sometimes I had papers or projects instead of tests."

"There's a couple projects, but they're on top of exams." Adrien gave her a rueful grin. "So some of my study breaks will comprise of working on those."

"Ugh." Marinette made a face as she wrestled the leftovers into the pan. "That's no fun. And that doesn't count as a break, I hope you know that."

Adrien shrugged. "It's school. At least this time it's in a subject I like. I've been feeling like I'm understanding everything, so hopefully I'll just be reviewing equations and theorems and, y'know, doing practice problems. Not that bad."

Marinette laughed. "That sounds like torture to me, but to each their own."

Adrien grinned as he stacked his notebooks and papers carefully along the wall. He had run into that reaction several times before, both among his friends and among the other models at Gabriel. "I'd say the same about fashion, but I actually do find the process fascinating. I'm just hopeless at designing and I've never tried sewing."

"Never?"

He just shrugged at her flabbergasted expression. "I've never had reason to try. My dad's known for forever that I'm hopeless at drawing and designing- he tried to teach me, and all I could do was draw stick figures. I don't have any groundbreaking design ideas either."

"It's usually more important that things be pretty rather than groundbreaking. I've been looking through some of the runway show archives from around the world and let me tell you, there are some weird things out there." The expression Marinette made told Adrien all he needed to know about what she thought about those looks. "I'm kind of not surprised because there's, like, such a focus on new and never seen before and whatnot in design school, but sometimes designers lose sight of how to make actually flattering and wearable clothes."

"What's the weirdest thing you've seen?" Adrien asked curiously as he entered the kitchen and started digging in the fridge for the oranges he was positive he had seen earlier. They had to pretend to make their meal healthy somehow.

Marinette bit her lip as she thought. "Oh, gosh, I don't even know where to begin. There was something that looked like a green potato sack with suspenders at a Fashion Week in the United States. There've been oversized coats with weird seam lines, and strange patterns, and...ugh." She shuddered and Adrien hid his grin. "And then you look at some of the big designers and they basically have repeats of the same dress in different colors or different patterns or, y'know, with different embellishments."

"Not very innovative, then."

Marinette shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. They're going for pretty and understandable instead. A lot of people don't understand the really funky shapes that some designers are making. It's too avant-garde for them, and they don't commission those designers. The fashion world loves innovation, the general population tends to value tradition and classic looks more. It's a matter of balancing the two."

Thinking back to the shows he had seen (and participated in), Adrien couldn't help but agree. His father certainly came up with some fantastic ideas, but he stayed well within the boundaries of wearable.

"So what is Madam Rosalie's style like?" Adrien asked. He found the oranges and pulled them out. "How out of the box is she?"

Marinette bit her lip as she thought. "Kind of in the middle, I think? We play with new design elements, but it's more approachable. We try to kind of meet a certain design style so it's recognizable as ours."

Adrien perked up. While he wasn't super interested in fashion, any distraction from his studying was fantastic and design style wasn't something he hand Marinette had really discussed much before. "Is it hard to try to alter your design aesthetic to match Madam Rosalie's?"

"Not really. I had to submit my portfolio to Madam Rosalie when I applied to the internship. She takes design interns that have similar aesthetics, so that everyone meshes together well design-wise."

"Ah, that makes sense." Adrien should have guessed that, maybe, but he hadn't exactly been involved on that end of his father's business. Still, he had seen the entries in plenty of his father's contests and the winners did tend to have design aesthetics similar to Mr. Agreste's own. That should have been a pretty good clue. His father did occasionally pick a surprise winner for their fresh point of view, but it never veered terribly far away from his typical style.

It was starting to get ridiculously late as they sat down to eat, and by the time they finished and washed everything up there wasn't any time to really do anything together. Marinette bid Adrien goodnight and took off as soon as everything was put away. Adrien briefly entertained the idea of going out as Chat Noir- he definitely wanted to see his lady again- but he finally decided against it. If he went out running, he would quite possibly fall off the roof falling asleep mid-jump, even after all of the tea he had gulped down in an effort to stay awake and get some productive studying done.

Besides, he had to deal with Paul again in his first class first thing in the morning. He needed to get some sleep.

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #How to Fake a Marriage

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ellawritesficssometimes · 7 years

Text

My Save Year -USUK (ch. 3)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12554533/1/My-Save-Year

Two days later…

Monday:

I was sitting at the front desk in the library, pawing through a files folder as I balanced a corded phone between my ear and shoulder.

"Yes, everything is fine," I sighed, annoyed at having to repeat myself. "I'm starting my third week here already. You know me, I've already developed a daily routine. I feel comfortable now. Hell, I'm so busy, I don't even feel stress anymore. I can't afford to."

Coping by using sarcastic puns? Check.

Midterms were around the corner, so most of my time was spent preparing for them well in advance. Grades were how I proved my self-worth, not to others, but to myself. I had nothing else going for me but my smarts.

"That's good to hear," Alistair grunted on the other end of the phone. "Even so, I just wanted to check in with ye again. Have ye made any new friends? Are ye eating properly? And don't ye dare lie to me, Artie. Ye ken full well that I'll come down there to romp yer skinny little arse if ye are."

I smirked and closed the files drawer shut. It emitted a satisfactory metallic thud.

I spun in my swivel chair and pushed off towards the desk part of the station so that I could smugly drum my fingers against the wooden surface.

"Actually, I have. Five total. Well," I corrected myself. "Three of them are more like acquaintances that I just so happen to share classes with. As for food? I've been trying, really I have. My roommate is even more ruthless than you are, like a hawk. He's resorted to force-feeding me because of my apparent lack in key nutrients."

Alistair laughed gruffly. "And here ye were at the beginning of the year, bitchin' and whining about having ta share a room with someone. It looks like it did ye a lotta good. I'm glad…and surprised. Since when has my wee little brother been so popular? I'm impressed. Nae, I'm proud and impressed."

I faltered. "The people here are…surprisingly nice. It's not like back home, where people's brains are even smaller than the limited geography. I've also noticed that, ah, there's a lot of diversity amongst the writers here, and I'm not just saying this because it's an international academy," I stumbled awkwardly.

Thankfully, Alistair knew how to address the subject without either skirting around it or directly addressing it. I flustered easily; he knew my boundaries of what I was okay with discussing.

"Artists are like tha'. Yer all either depressed, gay, lonely, bitter, or all four. Oops, looks like I just came up with half of yer biography," Alistair teased before changing the subject. "So, have you written anythin' lately? You haven't sent me somethin' for quite a while now."

Alistair was the supportive mother figure in my life. He overcompensated in our true mother's footsteps by taking interest in my hobbies. I only ever trusted Alistair to read my writing.

"Ha ha, very funny," I replied dryly. "Hmmm. I'll send you something soon. I have many assignments due in the coming weeks. I could always use another set of eyes to catch any mistakes."

"Yep."

"How are things in Scotland?" I asked.

"Good, could be better. My flat isna the best, but I'm making do. Mum called yesterday by the way…"

"Oh?" My stomach sank.

"She asked me to tell ye somethin'."

I didn't say anything, which prompted Alistair to tell me anyway.

"She asked me if yer coming back for Christmas… ye don't have to, though!" he blurted out. "I'd understand if ye didn't want to. Artie, I already told em' that you'd be coming home to my place for the holidays. That's the plan. It's up to ye if ye to change or stick with it."

I grit my teeth, swallowing sourly. "That's rich," I snorted bitterly. "You can tell her to fuck right off, along with the rest of them. They just don't want to look bad when I'm not there in front of the other relatives. I'm not going, not again. I don't want to go back, and no amount of guilt-tripping will ever make me. What nerve they have, honestly."

There went my relatively good mood.

My family may not have been physically abuse, but the belittling and constantly critical atmosphere was toxic for me. There were all just so passive-aggressive, it would drive anyone in my position insane. My other brothers would always hip-check me if I was in the way and would also make snide comments when I wasn't around. Mum was miserable, and Dad was just an angry bigot not even worthy of a description.

They didn't want me there, and I was sick of them pretending that they had accepted me for who I was. I haven't forgiven them, especially for the stairs incident with Patrick…

I'll repeat myself again: I wasn't going back. They had already done enough damage.

"I thought ye would say that," Alistair sadly stated. "Don't get me wrong, ye have every right to feel that way. I wasn't keen on going either if I'm to be perfectly honest. I'll make sure to relay the message for ye. No need to cause any more fights."

"Good, because I was definitely looking forward to us attempting to cook, only to give in after almost burning down the building and ordering take-out as a consolation meal," I mused, intending to lighten the mood. It worked.

After that, the conversation shifted to more trivial topics. I elaborated on school, my job, the many ghosts, as well as how strange the entire campus made me feel. I didn't mention the library's rooftop; I hadn't thought of it as very important.

My break was over quicker than expected, and I had to hang-up. It was odd how lenient and patient Alistair was being with me, as opposed to his usual stubborn, worry-wart self. I soon understood why he was acting as such when he said his goodbyes.

"I haven't heard ye be this happy in a while, Artie. I don't ken what's happening there, but I sure do hope that it keeps up. Take care, lad. And don't forget to call me, more than just one day a week if ye can. I'm always available when it comes to yer well-being, just make sure to keep the time in mind if ye do happen to catch me by surprise. Anyways, I have stuff to do, so I should probably let ye go. Best of luck on your midterms. Oh, and I love ye, very much, ye snobby brat."

I smiled. "I love you too, you hard-headed oaf," I retorted. "I'll speak to you again soon."

"Wha-?! Did you just say it back? Who are ye and what did you do with my bro–!"

Shocked, I hung up the phone.

"What in the bloody fuck was that?" I asked myself, feeling my face heat. The last time I had said something like that to him, I was no older than eight. My God, this school was turning me into such a sap.

No matter, I still had work to do. We had just gotten a whole new edition of textbooks to register into stock from the history section. Straightening both my blouse and posture, I set out to do just that.

It was four PM when Matthew came back from his last class of the day. My classes on Monday ended at noon, so I covered the middle shift. Technically, I was only hired to work on weekends, but I was slightly behind on my work as an assistant, so the administrators let me do an extra shift here and there to make up for it. The campus was privately run, so funding and payroll was never an issue.

Besides, the amount of books and files I had to keep track of was insane, near impossible even. I was also in the library most days, save for this weekend as a minor exception. I think you know why, but we'll get into that later.

I wasn't surprised to see Matthew carrying a platter of sandwiches in his hands. "Feeding time again?" I joked. I still found this whole situation ridiculous. It just didn't make any sense to me. A spirit eating food? I had never heard of something so preposterous.

"Oui, ah, yes," Matthew stuttered. "Egg salad is never a favourite in the staff room. I figured I wouldn't let them go to waste."

Matthew opened the plastic wrap covering the platter, offering me a sandwich. "They're pretty awful, but knowing you, you've only had breakfast today, huh?"

The Canadian knew me well. I didn't have a very large appetite, anxious or not. I either ate a lot or didn't eat at all, there was no in between. Although, the reminders I had set on my phone have helped. Throughout the day, I had many snacks, but none of them were meals – the downside of being dirt poor.

I accepted the sandwich, smiling politely as I took a small bite from it. "I don't see anything wrong with it," I shrugged.

"It's plain and processed," Matthew deadpanned. "I swear, you have such a strange taste in food. You'll eat anything, just like the ghost. Speaking of which, have you had a chance to look at the camera footage?" he asked, noting my disheartened expression. "Spooky, right?"

"Something's definitely funny about it," I replied. "Perhaps it's just the lighting, an optical illusion that makes it look like the food is disappearing. The cameras are old too. I still stand by my theory that a student is taking advantage of the free food."

Sue me, I was lying through my teeth. I didn't want many people to know about my abilities. Francis knew, and that was more than enough. Thing is, when I looked at previous camera footage, the food didn't just disappear. A dark and shaded pixelated spirit was in fact taking the food. It's just a pity I wasn't there to actually witness this, since the camera didn't possess the same sight as I did.

"Arthur," Matthew rolled his eyes. This was something we often bickered about now. "My family's been doing this for decades. There's a spirit here, many of them, but this one has the most personality. Keep denying the obvious if you want, but this library is very clearly haunted. Now, if you excuse me, I have a real-life ghost to feed. If I take too long, sometimes it gets impatient and knocks over books. One time it knocked over an entire shelf."

"Mhmm, sure," I hummed dismissively, a playful light in my eyes. "You keep telling yourself that."

"I will," Matthew huffed.

"Good."

"Bien."

"Fine."

"Hitting your head on Friday must have made you even stubborner. As if it wasn't already hard enough to get through to you," Matthew shook his head in disbelief.

The bruise at the back of my head throbbed a little at the reminder. I told Matthew that I had taken a bad fall on Friday, not wanting him to worry about me too much. Francis already did enough of that. I couldn't walk two feet without the Frenchman offering to hold my arm in support.

I had a minor concussion, that's it. Waking me up every hour of the night was more than unnecessary. Stupid patronizing frog. Don't even get me started on refusing to report the incident to campus security…

"Perhaps it did. I wouldn't know," I shrugged, prompting Matthew to leave with a thoroughly 'done' expression on his face.

When Matthew was out of sight, I rolled my chair over to the computer and opened the camera feed. I clicked on the specific one that surveyed the fiction section on the fifth floor. The food was always placed on the study tables there.

I spied on the Canadian, watching him place the sandwich platter in its usual spot. I shamelessly flipped through cameras, making sure that he was far out of hearing distance before I put my plan into motion.

I was going to stake out the spirit. I had done enough readings over the weekend to spare myself some extra time. I also may or may not have refused to leave my dorm room because of Friday's incident. All right, I did.

I had avoided visiting the rooftop because I didn't want to see Alfred. Now that he knew who I was, I couldn't bear to face him again. I didn't want his pity, nor did I want myself to believe that we could become chatting partners again.

He'd seen me in a very sorry, very pitiful state. I just knew that he would never look at me the same if we saw each other again. The problem was, I needed to investigate that rooftop, but he was always there. This mess just made everything more complicated than it needed to be. It was also bizarre how Alfred had just left without another word, but then again, I wasn't going to complain.

Moving on.

Hopefully, this stake out would answer most of my questions. I had very little patience monitoring the cameras; this plan was my only way of physically seeing the spirit, rather than just a fuzzy, pixelated blob on a screen.

Forget waiting, I wanted to know what it was. The uneasy feeling I got whenever I came here was beginning to drive me mad, like a pestering fly that wouldn't stop buzzing in your ear.

And so, that's how I found myself squatted behind a bookcase, phone digging into my hips due to the tight jeans I was wearing. I eyed the food platter, devotedly intending to stay for hours on end if I had to.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," I muttered to myself. "I won't hurt you, I promise. If anything, I just want to help. And here I thought I was stubborn…"

One hour later.

"Oh for fuck's sakes, I'm not going to bite."

Two hours later.

I stretched my back and neck, shifting my position into something more comfortable. I was leaning against the bookshelf now, occasionally looking over my shoulder, only to come up disappointed with the view of the still empty study area.

I was so used to the quiet that when my phone buzzed, I gave a sharp yelp in response.

Turns out, it was just Francis wanting to know if I had started plotting out my Creating Writing assignment. Our Russian professor, an alumnus at the school, was back to teaching here again. Apparently, we were immensely lucky to have him, since he didn't like staying at the campus for more than a year.

Lucky my arse. We had a 20,000 word one-shot due at the end of each month. The professor was out of his bloody mind! It was only a matter of time before I burnt out – a person only had so much creativity and sanity in them, after all.

I couldn't be bothered to answer Francis. I would do so later if I remembered to, which wasn't very likely if I'm to be perfectly honest. It got to the point where I had to turn off my phone to prevent him from blowing up my inbox. God, was he ever insufferable.

The time I spent waiting had almost passed the three-hour mark when a distinct creak and subsequent thud echoed across the area. Immediately, I turned around, eyes locked on the nearest study table.

"Easy does it," I mouthed. "I just want to see who or what you are…"

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST?!" I screamed, jolting upwards only to bang my head on the bookshelf.

My vision blacked out briefly as I reached out to cup the back of my now much sorer head. My vision swam, blurry, before focusing on a startled pair of blue eyes and shiny spectacles, glowing from the fluorescent lights above.

"A-Artie?" Alfred crouched down. "I'm sorry if I startled ya. It's just, I haven't heard from you since, well, you know… I thought I would find you myself. You did mention that you worked and studied here."

"I did, did I?" I groaned, glaring at him through tears. "Couldn't you have found me like a normal person, and oh, I don't know, not sneak up on me?"

Alfred didn't say anything. He looked like he wanted to reach out to see if I was okay, but given my short temper, he knew better not to.

"Stop looking at me like that, I'll be fine. And it's Arthur!" I blurted out. "How many times do I have to tell you that?… Fuck it, I don't even care. I-I should probably get going now." I stood up abruptly, wanting to get out of here as fast as possible.

"Arthur, wait!" Alfred called out when I turned my back on him.

Hesitantly, I turned around, defensive scowl already in place. My eyes bugged out as I took in his hulking height. He was several inches taller than me, albeit lanky. Of course, he was still wearing the same brown bomber jacket and folded jeans, blond hair stuck up in a messy muss. In his right hand, he gripped onto his notebook, and on his back, he was one-strapping a brown leather rucksack.

"What?" I wavered, shy to establish direct eye contact for too long.

"I'm, ah, sorry that I left you hanging like that. I panicked and didn't know what to do. It's why I went running off to find someone else to help out…"

"You found my roommate. I hate my roommate," I sarcastically spat.

Alfred nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. I didn't know. He seemed nice enough, I guess," I trailed off.

"Is that all? I have to be somewhere."

"Don't lie to me, Arthur. I haven't known you all that long, and yet I can still tell when you're lying. You wear your emotions on your face. You don't just look troubled now. You look embarrassed and I'm here to tell you that you shouldn't. Is that why you haven't come on the roof these past few days? Because you thought I wouldn't accept you for who you are?"

"…Can you blame me?" I whispered, throat constricting. "You saw what they did, what they said. It's repulsive. I'm repulsive…"

"BULLSHIT!" Alfred exploded. When I flinched, he lowered his voice. "That's total bullshit, you hear me?! Don't say such things like that. It only gives those assholes free reign to do whatever the hell they want! You're better than that!"

I inched away from Alfred, hurt crossing over my expression. "Look, if you came here to yell at me, then you may as well just leave. I don't need this right now."

"Arthur," Alfred repeated. "Look man, I'm trying," he paused, taking a deep breath. "I want to be your friend, I really do. It's just hard standing here watching you beat yourself up like this. It's not right.

"Thing is, my anxiety does this weird thing where when I see someone in a similar position to me, I become strong and confident all of a sudden. My sister calls it this 'hero' persona. I don't really care… I'm not trying to be your hero, but I can't just stand around either. I came to talk to you."

I sighed. So that's why he was here. He was pushing aside his shyness to see if I was okay. Sweet, but unnecessary. A waste of his time if you ask me. "You don't have to, I'm fine."

"You weren't fine when I found you that night," Alfred interrupted. "Did you call campus security on those bozos? Maybe there was a camera that caught their faces. They deserve to expelled for what they did, a rotten bunch if I've ever seen one," he seethed.

"I didn't call anyone. I just want it to be done and over with. What happened, happened," I remarked curtly.

Alfred's jaw dropped. "You're not going to try and find them?"

"I just said that, didn't I?"

"But you can't! It's not right!"

"Perhaps, but it's what I want."

Alfred's shoulders slumped. "I can't believe it. I mean, if it's what you really want, fine. It's not what I would do, and it makes me really angry that those criminals are going to get away with something like this... still, I can't force you to do something you don't wanna do."

I looked at the ground, unsure of myself. "Was that all you came here for?"

"No, you invited me to join you in the library sometime, remember? I'm taking you up on that offer. Call me old-fashioned, but I don't have a phone, so this was my only way of finding you. I also, um, want to tell you something," Alfred admitted.

I shrugged. I was too tired and flustered to argue. A seat sounded nice. "All right, I don't see why not."

We sat at a study table, across from one another. Alfred had to pull out his chair as his legs were too long to fit underneath. He kept fidgeting, with both his hands and his feet. The way he clicked his ankle was annoying, but I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. He was pushing himself out of his comfort zone, for me. He was reaching out – who was I to discourage him from doing so with some useless, petty comment?

After some time, Alfred looked up, smiling out of nervousness. "What you said earlier really bothered me, ya know that? You shouldn't have to feel ashamed of yourself. Do you think I'm repulsive?"

"Of course I don't think you're repulsive!" I snapped. "Why would you say such a thing?"

Alfred gave me a blank stare. "I could say the same thing to you. Don't you get it? No one should ever say such horrible things about themselves because once you say it, you really believe it, and it's not true, okay?!" he breathed deeply, calming himself.

"Let me rephrase myself, dude," Alfred continued. "Would you call me repulsive if you knew that I liked guys too?"

"Y-you do?" I asked, lips trembling. My ears buzzed, unable to process this information.

"Yes, I do. Gals as well. Now answer my question."

"I don't have to rephrase anything," I answered. "I've never thought of you as repulsive. I judge people by character. You haven't given me a reason to think that, so no, I don't find you repulsive."

"Why can't you apply that same logic to yourself then? If you call yourself repulsive for being gay, or at least liking boys, then I want you to look me in the eye and call me repulsive too. Go on, do it."

"I…can't."

"Why not? Do it! If it's so easy to say it to yourself, then say it to me!"

"I don't want to!"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want anyone to ever have to experience what I have!" I croaked.

"Then why beat yourself up, Arthur? Don't become another bully, to yourself nonetheless. I'm not going to lie and tell you that this world and that you yourself are perfect. But that doesn't give you a reason to hate everything either! You're not repulsive, it's how you think that's repulsive! Don't become like those bigots! It'll only make them win!"

I raked a shaky hand through my hair, fisting it. "I-I…don't think you're repulsive."

"I know, but you need to know that you're not either," Alfred said softly, cerulean eyes possessing an indescribable wisdom to them.

"Damn it," I sniffed, wiping at my eyes before tears could spill. "I know I'm not repulsive, but I can't help but believe it sometimes."

"Love and being yourself is never repulsive, as long as it doesn't harm others. My Ma and Pops didn't understand that, but my, ah, sis does. I grew up in the South. My family, they're really religious. For so long, I had to hide who I was. I had crushes on both boys and girls, but could only date girls. At least, not in public. What I'm trying to say is that it's not worth hating what you can't change. There'll always be support, and there'll sometimes be backlash. It doesn't mean you have to accept it or that it's right. Society sucks, but it doesn't mean you have to believe that you suck too. Gosh, that sounded really dirty," he finished, smiling nervously.

"That must have been tough. I can't even bear to imagine it," I whispered.

"Yeah, well, I didn't live there all the time. My twin, Amelia – I think I told you about her – anyways, Amy and I went to boarding school in New York. We grew up in a pretty progressive area. It was there that I found out more about myself. I met a guy…"

Alfred's eyes widened in pain. I didn't know whether to stop him or let him continue.

I resorted to the latter in fear of scaring Alfred away.

"We really, really liked each other. It's just hard when you're forced to be afraid of loving someone. It really got to me. When I close my eyes I can still imagine how pretty his eyes were, a rare, indescribable violet. He was always so worried about what other people thought... he stood me up because of the rumours going around about us. Afterwards, all I could do was blame and hate myself.

"It's not worth it, Arthur. It really isn't. I learned that the hard way. Either way, I still had that experience, horrible as it was. But you know what? At least I got to do what I wanted to without having what others thought about us hold me back."

"I'm so sorry," I said hesitantly.

"Don't be. The point I'm trying to get across is that it's pointless to regret things, especially something unchangeable like your sexuality. Heck, if I don't know how hard it can get at times. I've only ever wanted things to get better. Moving here, it was a fresh start, even if I had to leave my only support system behind. But now I have you, huh? So how about you start seeing yourself like I do: a normal guy who's too hard on himself."

I nodded. "This was…too sweet for words, Alfred. You didn't have to tell me all that, but I appreciate it. You're right, about everything. And yes, you have me now. I consider you as my friend."

"No, no I did. I didn't just want to tell you this, I had to," Alfred said, taking off his glasses. I let out a sharp intake of breath when I saw that he was crying. "Back then, I grew tired of hating myself, for thinking that I would never be happy. Seeing you feel the same way now, it just breaks my heart. No one deserves this. You can't help it, all right? Things may never turn out in your favor, but don't you ever give up. You will find that someone who will accept you for you, it just may take some time. But once you do find that someone, the rest of the world don't matter after that."

"Crap," he whimpered. "I was the one supposed to be cheering you up. Some friend I am. I wanted to make you feel better."

"Hey," I chided, reaching into my pocket to pull out a wad of tissues. "You sound like you've had it much worse than I have. And don't be silly, you did make me feel better. It's reassuring that we have so much in common, truly it is. Please, don't cry. We both can't be messes, now can we?"

I reached over to hand Alfred a tissue, backing away slightly as he looked uncomfortable with getting so close. He accepted the tissue gratefully, blowing the tip of his nose, which was now quite red.

"I can't promise you that I won't think like this, but what I can guarantee is that I'll try not to. Like I've told you before, it'll take time to re-wire years of negativity. Now come on, smile for me," I felt my heart skip a beat. Where was this coming from?

"You cheered me up, now it's my turn. Where's that dopey, grinning smile, you yank? The smile that can brighten just about anything? How about this, I'll go get us some hot chocolate from the staff room, and when I come back, we can do our work together? You know I won't talk, so you don't have to worry about me messing up your writing mojo."

Alfred looked up at me, incredulous before a wisp of a grin began to creep onto his face. "That sounds awesome! I would love that. Thanks man, you're the best!"

"I should be thanking you," I corrected. It was almost adorable how excited he was. Who knows how long it's been since he's been able to share a moment like this. To me it was just a warm drink, but to Alfred, it was a chance to enjoy himself with someone who accepted his quirks, someone he felt he could be himself with.

We were both overcompensating, trying to make the other feel better…

We both knew what it felt like to be unhappy with ourselves.

Just as I was about to leave, Alfred surprised me once again in a brief, but still ever meaningful display of braveness. It was a simple gesture, but to him, it meant so much more than that.

"Arthur, I never got to introduce myself properly. I-I think I would like to do that now," he flushed, cheeks pink.

"What?"

Alfred held out his hand. "Don't make this awkward, dude. I want to shake hands with you."

"Oh…" My stomach flopped. "Yes, yes, of course. Are you… are you sure you want to though?"

"Yeah man. I trust you completely."

"Very well. Nice to meet you, Alfred Jones," I reached out for Alfred's hand, slowly, waiting for him to grab my hand first.

In reciprocation, Alfred reached over the table, shaking slightly. With a determined huff, he clasped his tanned hand around mine, swallowing it. His hands were that of a bear's, or, at least pretty close to it.

"The pleasure's all mine, Kirkland," Alfred grinned, revealing a heart-warming smile that showed off all his teeth. I had to look away in fear of getting both blinded and embarrassed. He had a way of looking at someone that just made them feel so special. What did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful expression from him?

Alfred gave my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, breathing out with a shudder. "Wasn't so bad."

I gave him a blank stare.

"I'm talking about my shyness!"

"I know," I mused. "It's just fun to get you worked up."

"Hey!"

I stood up and turned my back on him, grinning the entire trip down to the staff room on the first floor.

When I came back, Alfred and I sipped our warm beverages in a comfortable silence. He wrote down ideas in his notebook, tongue wagging out as he did, and I picked out a random book to read.

Occasionally, he would look up at me and grin like a total goofball. Still, it was hard not to smile back. When he was in a good mood, it was contagious. He radiated, a glow of comfortability surrounding him, protecting him.

I too would find myself staring at him, only to look away when we established eye contact. It was thrilling, watching the way how he pouted his lips in thought, long lashes feathering his strong cheekbones.

He was beautiful.

I was beginning to fall in love with Alfred Jones. Too bad I absolutely couldn't let that happen.

…

The next day

…

I was attending a Creative Writing lecture, or, what remained of it. Prof. Braginski was going through the syllabus again to explain a specific assignment due at the end of the month. However, he couldn't get through one sentence without being interrupted by loud bangs from either the auditorium's ceiling or the walls.

Prof. Braginski cleared his throat, trying not to look frazzled as he adjusted the white scarf wrapped around his neck. The man was in his mid- fifties, a hulking giant with pale blond hair, indigo-almost-purple eyes, and a strong nose.

"Ahem, as I was saying, you will all have a 20,000 word one-shot due at the end of each month. This month's theme is something that inspires you. Whether it be friends, family or the heavily-used cliché theme of love–"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Lovino, Gilbert, and Antonio jumped slightly, sitting to my right, as did the rest of the class save for Francis and myself. Unfortunately, the Frog realized that night classes weren't ideal if he wanted to go out with his friends, and ended up changing most of his classes to conveniently fit the same schedule as mine.

Prof. Braginski paused, waiting to see if there would be any other noise disruptions before continuing. The class was silent, unnerved by the persistent bangs echoing across the amphitheatre. Fifteen minutes passed since the lecture had first started, and yet, hardly anything had been discussed.

Francis – who was sitting by my left – and I exchanged wary looks as the professor began to appear more and more distressed. Rumour has it that he was an extreme introvert and didn't like staying at this university for long, despite having received an education here. Something traumatic happened here to him many years ago, and he only taught out of politeness, going against his wishes.

The hairs on the back of my neck pricked, a faint ringing sound bristling at the tips of my ears.

Something wasn't right. My stomach flopped with inexplicable feelings of anxiety, dread, and hurt. They seeped into my entire being, doing everything to make my mood miserable. Immediately, I recognized that this was all a spirit's doing.

Francis must have noticed this too because he kept clenching and unclenching his fists, rubbing his forehead frequently. Channelling these emotions was a common symptom for spiritual communicators. In fact, I could already feel the beginnings of a migraine form in my own head.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Prof. Braginski inhaled deeply, rustling the papers in front of him out of nervous habit. "Perhaps there is the construction going on? Leaky piping?" he proposed, slipping into broken English, his voice in an even thicker Russian accent than before.

"How can it be construction or leaky piping if the whole building is shaking?" Gilbert bent over to whisper to Antonio. "It feels like the entire roof is going to cave. And, I don't know about you, but I didn't see any cranes on my way here. Damn, I bet you anything this building is old enough to collapse on us at any given moment. Eh, at least I won't have exams to worry about," he teased nervously, using jokes to compensate for his own unease.

Antonio's eyes widened, just about breaking into tears. Lovino turned sharply and began to hiss at Gilbert for upsetting Antonio.

Another ten minutes passed before Prof. Braginski ended the class early, instructing us to check our emails tonight, as we would likely be changing lecture locations – again.

None of the students complained, eager to get out of class early. Meanwhile, Francis and I stayed back in solidarity, stiff in our seats.

Gilbert stood up, looping his backpack over his right shoulder. "Man, this is so awesome! Maybe if we're lucky, he'll cancel the whole class altogether. Free credits, am I right?"

Lovino rolled his eyes, taking a large chug from his coffee, needing the caffeine to be able to cope with the idiocy around him. "The amount of optimism in that statement is hopeless. Of course he's not going to cancel the class, you knuckle head."

Gilbert pouted.

Lovino faltered, nudging a frozen Antonio's shoulder like a prying mother. "Up you go, bastard. Class is over, didn't you hear?"

Numbly, Antonio stood on the promise that Gilbert and Lovino would take him to their favourite study room. Secretly, they all knew the campus was haunted, but didn't want to make the idea seem real. And so, the thought of ghosts haunting the classroom went largely unacknowledged.

Antonio, Gilbert, and Lovino began to pile down the aisles, only to turn back when they realized that Francis and I hadn't left our seats.

"Fran, aren't you coming?" Gilbert asked. He didn't bother to ask me. The four of them had no idea where I disappeared to after class, only knowing that I preferred being alone when I studied.

"Non, I'm going to stay here."

"With Arthur?" Antonio cocked his head to the side, incredulous.

"Oui, with Arthur. We, ah, both have a love for investigating things, isn't that right Arthur?" Francis mused, lightly elbowing me in the rib-cage.

It took a lot of willpower not to punch him in the throat. "Yes, that's right," I played along with the lie. "We're going to try and figure out the source of the noise. I'm sure there's a rational explanation for them. Honestly, you people always over-react and come to the most ridiculous conclusions."

Gilbert shrugged, adamant on leaving the classroom. He was still spooked by the wardrobe incident, even if I had ruled it off as something non-paranormally related. "Suit yourselves, weirdos. If you get murdered by Bloody Mary, Toni and I call dibs on your room. It's bigger."

"But of course. If that happens, I'll be expecting you three to plan my funeral and bury me in great fashion," Francis joked, grinning as the two friends and the other who denied being their friend but actually was left the auditorium.

As soon as we heard the front doors shut with a thud, we stood up from our seats and piled down to the podium at the front of the room.

I began to pace back and forth, closing my eyes, hoping to get any hints of the spirit residing here. Once again, I got nothing but the same emotions as before.

"A-ha! Got you!" Francis cackled, grabbing my shoulders out of nowhere.

"WHAT IN THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!" I roared, jumping in fright. The Frog still hadn't learned his lesson from before, that ass.

Francis laughed and bent over to hold his knees, blond curls swinging. "Desole, I just had to. The look of constipation on your face was priceless," he said, straightening his posture. He then wiped a tear from his eye.

I glared at Francis, considering grabbing the meter stick by the front chalk board. There would soon be two ghosts here if he wasn't careful.

"No one asked you to stay back with me," I growled. "If you're going to be a cocky twat, then you may as well leave. I have a full schedule, one that doesn't involve putting up with your constant bullshit."

Acknowledging that he had pushed me too far, Francis raised both hands in surrender. "All right, all right, jokes aside, let's help this spirit. Although, I thought we were having a bonding moment. We both knew we would stay back without having to tell each other. It's adorable, non? How in tune we are with each other?"

"I'll repeat myself again, Frog. Focus, or stop wasting my time."

Francis's shoulders slumped, bored that he couldn't poke fun at me anymore. "Oui, oui, je sais," he muttered.

"Pardon our intrusion," I spoke up, "but, if there is anyone else here in this auditorium, please speak up. We are spiritual communicators and have no other intentions but to help you cross over to the other side. You don't have to be afraid that we can see you. I assure you, we mean no harm."

"What he said," Francis purred. "I can sense much stress and fear from you. Let us make it all go away."

"What are you, a spiritual prostitute?" I snorted. "You sound like you're trying to seduce it into bed."

"Am not!" Francis gasped.

"Are too!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The ceiling shuddered and creaked.

"Hello?" I whispered, a bit frightened from how violent the sound was. "I'm sorry for my friend, truly I am. He's a good guy once you get around his ring of obnoxiousness. I won't argue with you like I do with him, promise."

"You're such a miserable grouch, mon dieu! I'm half convinced you're possessed by a bitter 80 year-old-man," Francis growled, walking up to me, a sneer on his usually languid, dreamy face.

Even though we were the same height, I straightened my shoulders and jabbed an angry index finger at him. "Now you listen here! Just because I'm not letting you waltz right into my life with opened legs, doesn't mean you have to be so immature about it. I told you this from the beginning. I'm an asshole. Stop pointing out the obvious, and let's just get this over with, Christ! Either deal with me or leave! I won't repeat myself again!"

"Ohonhonhon!" Francis cracked up, a pervy expression on his face. "Open legs, huh? What an interesting choice of words."

"It's a saying, you tart. No need to get literal!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Oh look, you made it angry."

"Moi? I did no such thing!"

Francis and I both fell silent when the sound of heavy footsteps pattered against the back of the auditorium. No one was there when we looked over our shoulders, however.

"What in the-?" I spluttered. "I'm starting to think we're dealing with a poltergeist. It's the only explanation. It's likely just messing with us."

I'M SORRY! PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME!

A voice, unmatchable to anything I've ever heard before, screamed in my mind. Judging by Francis's equally petrified and intrigued expression he had heard it too.

"Q-quoi? We're not leaving, we're right here?"

"Idiot, this place isn't being haunted by an active ghost," I concluded, all of the pieces fitting together. "It's a memory. Something here must have triggered it into existence again. The bangs will stop eventually, there's nothing more we can do."

"Ah… I see now." Francis hummed in understanding.

When a person died, fragments of memories often spread and attached themselves to objects or places meaningful to them. Someone here must have triggered the memory by thinking or saying something, likely on accident. I'd give it a couple days before the memory faded away again.

The problem was, despite the lingering memory, I had no idea if the actual spirit had passed on or not. Spirits lived in different planes of existence. Most times, they didn't realize they were dead and lived their lives normally, creating sounds that those alive would consider to be a haunting. This occurrence, however, was just a memory replaying itself. It wasn't the spirit themself.

Just as Francis and I prepared to leave, Gilbert, Antonio, and Lovino poked their heads into the classroom. I deadpanned upon realizing they had been standing outside in the hallway this entire time.

How much did they know?

"So…" Gilbert drawled, stumbling into the auditorium again, red eyes wide in apprehension. "What the hell just happened?" he put ever so eloquently.

Francis and I glanced at each other, not wanting to reveal too much. You never knew how someone would react to this kind of news. It was the bad, ostracizing reactions that prevents us communicators from telling people about our abilities.

Antonio ended it all by bluntly blurting out what the other two were thinking. "You guys can speak to ghosts? Ay! That would make a lot of sense. I knew you saw something in that wardrobe, Arturo!"

"I sure did," I muttered to myself, solemn at the thought.

"Honestly, what the fuck is even happening anymore?" Lovino followed Antonio and Gilbert into the auditorium, still hesitant as the bangs quieted, but didn't exactly stop.

"Oui," Francis stepped in, since it was obvious I wasn't going to say anything. "We are known as spiritual communicators, or mediums to put it more simply. There is no reason to worry. There are no spirits in this room."

"Ja, we heard. You said something about a memory. Anyway, I'm freaked the shit out, but also strangely excited?" Gilbert grinned. "Why did you bozos hide this from us? You're like real life ghostbusters!"

"Because normally when you tell someone this, they get weirded out," I countetred.

"Everyone here is strange, I honestly don't give a fuck about who or what you are so long as you're not an asshole. What just happened is enough evidence in itself, so you don't have to worry about us not believing you either," Lovino sighed, looking done with life. Same.

"Like Lovi said, you were already weird to begin with," Antonio smiled obliviously. "Honestly, we would have accepted you two either way. Now I feel even safer knowing that you guys won't let any scary demons possess us. My parents didn't want me coming here because of the rumours of it being haunted! They can sleep sound now!"

Lovino smacked the back of Antonio's head. "Idiota! What did I say about being rude to people in person?"

Antonio whined.

Meanwhile, Gilbert was still ogling at us 'mediums' like a child. "Hey, Fran? Do you think you could get in touch with my Gramps? He had a bunch of funds in the bank, but no one can access them because there's a shit ton of security locks. Can you? Huh? Huh? Oh gott, please man. I've been wanting to buy a new car for so long now, but that stingy old fart's accounts aren't supposed to open up for another year. I'm dying here!"

Gilbert's poor choice of words completely triumphed over mine.

"Imbeciles," I shook my head, shoving past Antonio to leave the auditorium.

"Where are you going?" Francis reprimanded, pausing his mini morality lecture with Gilbert. "We still have much to explain."

"I don't have to explain shit!" I called over my shoulder. "I've experienced enough stupidity for an entire week. I need time to recover the brain cells I lost."

The clack of Lovino's dress shoes were quick to catch up with me. "Agreed. Oi, let's get some coffee, my treat?" he offered.

"Sure, why the hell not?"

Before Antonio could join us, Lovino rudely shut the auditorium's door in front of the Spaniard's face.

I couldn't help but laugh.

…

Jittery and anxious already, the coffee I had with Lovino offered no aid in calming my nerves.

As always, after class I found myself in the library, sitting at the front desk even though I wasn't on shift. I was flipping through the cameras again, going over last night's footage. The ghost always came to snatch the food when I wasn't around – it was infuriating.

Matthew, still caught in my lie, found it funny how I was trying to find a rational explanation for the food's disappearance.

"Still scanning the footage, huh?" Matthew mused as he entered the library. He shook his head, soft curls falling out of his eyes as he draped a casual arm over the front desk. "You're so predictable, Arthur."

"I can't help it," I responded. "I'm a very routine-orientated person."

"I can tell," Matthew smirked. "So, come up with or find anything?"

"No, nothing at all," I groaned.

"I'm telling you, this library is the most haunted place on campus. For decades, my family has dedicated themselves to taking care of it. Are you really just going to discard everything they've seen with their own two eyes? Or how about me? I've seen things move without anyone touching them."

I rubbed my temple. "It's all either bollocks or hearsay. I'll believe you when I see it myself. Although," I paused, contemplating my next few words carefully. "I checked the records. It really is unbelievable how many students have committed suicide on the rooftop here. I didn't know this school used to double as a boarding school for high school students either. The information was so well-hidden. It's like the Deans went out of their way to hide it."

Matthew's eyes became sad. "You didn't know that? And yes, very true. The high suicide rate was a huge reason why my grandmother starting hosting a homework club here, actually."

I furrowed my brows in confusion. I remembered him mentioning something about losing a relative in a tragedy like this, but I was having a hard time connecting the dots.

"Oh," Matthew smiled sheepishly. "That relative of mine, they went to the boarding school, but that's completely unrelated. Basically, the club was founded to prevent more suicides; there hasn't been one here since, so I think it's safe to say that it's been really successful in its objective. The homework club offers a safe place for struggling students to come together and make friends. We help each other out and just talk, you know? You're always welcome to join too if you want. I'm sure you've seen the posters. We meet on Fridays here on the first floor."

"That's a wonderful idea," I admitted. "No one wonder it's done so well. But, I'm afraid this is the first I'm hearing from it."

Matthew looked disappointed; he had a talent for living under the radar. "Well, it does have its drawbacks," Matthew sighed. "Recently, I've been tutoring this German guy. His writing is decent, but he still refuses to accept that he can't use the word awesome every two sentences."

"I know someone very similar," I bitterly remarked. "Writers who can't accept criticism just aren't cut out for the field I suppose."

"Eh, I'll get through to him eventually. He's actually a pretty good guy once you brush past his ego."

"Best of luck to you then," I smiled faintly, standing up from my seat.

"Going to the rooftop… again?" Matthew asked, somewhat pensive.

"Yes," I flushed at the reminder. Alfred was my friend, nothing else. I could still enjoy spending time with him.

"There's a wonderful pair of benches and the scenery helps my muse. I always come up with the best writing ideas there. Besides, I'm not the only one who thinks that way. I have a friend I usually sit and chat with," I rambled, overcompensating with my explanation because of the strange look Matthew was giving me.

"That's good, I guess," Matthew shrugged. "It's just a bit odd, considering…"

'Yes, yes, I know," I filled in for him. "It has a depressing history and what not. Still, that shouldn't stop other people from enjoying it."

Matthew smiled. "You're right. Sorry if I seemed judgemental there. I didn't intend to be."

I laughed. "I've experienced far more judgemental things in my life, lad. No worries."

I left the front desk. "See you later," I said, waving over my shoulder with my knapsack haphazardly draped over my left shoulder.

"Take care," Matthew replied back.

When Arthur was out of sight, Matthew pursed his lips, watching the stiff posture of the Brit with narrowed eyes.

"He's definitely hiding something from me," the Canadian whispered to himself. "…I just hope he's okay."

To be continued...

#hetalia #fanfiction #aph America #aph England #USUK #romance #alfred f jones #arthur Kirkland #human AU.#PLEASE remember to review

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rowdy-revenant · 7 years

Text

Tall Tales and Short Stories

Pairing: Gabriel x reader

Words: 1300+

Summary: You manage to befriend the strange janitor at your college.

Based on the request by: @becca-boop1310

Warnings: Bullying

A/N: My hiatus is over. Miss me?

[General masterlist]

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Nobody ever notices the people in the background. Nobody thanks the lunch lady for serving food, nobody asks the librarian how their day was, nobody ever says hello to the janitor. And that's exactly what Gabriel was counting on.

As the janitor of Crawford Hall University, the Trickster could go anywhere, listen in on anyone, and nobody would bat an eye. It was the perfect disguise, hiding in plain sight. Nobody would ever know, hell nobody would ever ask, who he was.

Except to keep up this cover, sometimes Gabriel actually had to do- ugh- work. He was an archangel, for crying out loud, and he was sweeping the floor!

Cafeteria duty always sucked the most. The mess hall looked like a hurricane had hit it once the students moved out. And dear dad, the jocks ate like there was no tomorrow and cleaned up like there was no trash can.

Today was no different. The students at the university were sitting at their tables of cliques, chattering on about midterms. Honestly, it was worse than high school.

The sounds of a tray clattering to the floor notified Gabriel that it was time to move out of the corner and do his dumb job. A student was on their hands and knees, grabbing items that had been spilled, and trying to put them back on the tray.

“Don’t worry, kid. I got it.” Gabriel assured you.

Reluctantly, you got up and out of the way. Some students were still snickering, pointing at the pasta sauce that now covered your shirt. You’d been walking when all of a sudden a foot appeared out of nowhere, sending you hurtling to the ground.

“You got two left feet, freak?” Curtis, the head jock and Crawford’s reigning asshole, guffawed.

“I don’t see why that would be a problem. I mean, you’re on the football team.” You sassed.

Curtis clenched his fists with anger, but you ignored him. Gabriel tried to hide a smile at your perfect comeback.

You smiled at the janitor once he’d cleaned up. “Thank you.” You said, quietly.

The man smiled. “Hey, just doing my job.”

Back to being wallpaper, it was, to the both of you, not that you minded. While Gabriel used it as a disguise, you used it as protection. It meant fewer people to bother you, fewer people to use you as a punchline.

Curtis turned back to his friends, immediately forgetting you existed. “You hear about the professor?”

“I heard he tried to get tail and got murdered.” One of his friends retold.

The jock snorted. “No way. He just took a nosedive from his office.”

Ah, so the news was spreading. Gabriel felt a little pride that his work hadn’t gone unnoticed. But at the same time, this might attract unwanted attention.

“You think it’s the ghost of room 669?” A girl piped up.

“Ghosts? God, you’re starting to talk like the weirdo.” Curtis scoffed, looking in your direction. “Like seriously, I’d rather slow dance with an alien than read one of their dumb stories.”

Gabriel crossed his arms. This pledge master had a reputation for being a bully. You stood up to him, which Gabriel admired, but it didn’t look like Curtis would change. He’d just made his way onto the trickster’s list of targets.

Was it dangerous? Yes. Did it only make the pair of hunters that had recently arrived more suspicious? Yes. But was making Curtis think he’d been abducted by aliens, probed, and forced to slow dance worth it? Hell. Yes.

The rumour spread around campus like the plague in medieval England. People were talking about the pledge master who’d been rambling on about aliens like a madman.

It felt like poetic justice to you. You were glad to finally have some peace. Even more, it would make a great short story.

It was time to head home. Most had already left the campus. You liked this little bit of time. Just you and your thoughts.

“Hey, hold the door!”

Well, you, your thoughts, and the janitor. You stopped the door you exited out of before it could close and pulled it back open.

The janitor, hands full of boxes, walked through. “Thanks, sugar. Guess who put off moving supplies? Now an entire wing is out of toilet paper.”

You laughed. “Here, let me help you.”

His eyes peeked over the mountain of boxes and you could see his brow furrow. “You sure? It's pretty late.”

“It's fine, I live pretty close. I don't mind helping.” You replied.

“I'd offer you a hand, but…” The janitor said, causing you to laugh again. “My name's Gabriel.”

It had been over a thousand years since he said that. Over a thousand years since he had used his real name. He could have told you anything. Loki, Griffin, Sam, Richard, all past aliases. Yet somehow, he trusted you enough to say 'Gabriel'.

“Nice to meet you, Gabriel,” You said, taking a box from the top of the pile and carrying in your arms. “I'm Y/N.”

“Y/N, yeah! I've seen you around campus. Always with a notebook. You a creative writing major?”

“Yeah. I want to be an author in the future.” You confessed. “Don't think I ever will be, though.”

“What? No way!” Gabriel exclaimed. “I bet you're an awesome writer. Tell you what, we meet up for coffee tomorrow and you read me something from your notebook.”

“What? No! My stories are-”

“Erotic?” Gabriel asked with a smirk.

You tried not to laugh. “No! I was going to say horrible. Besides, what would I get out of it?”

“A free coffee and seeing me out of uniform?” Gabriel said, wiggling his brow.

“Okay, okay. I guess I need a beta reader anyway.” You complied.

“Awesome,” Gabe said, setting the boxes in his arms on the ground and taking one from you. “It's a date.”

You smiled and walked off, Gabriel was glad you finally started to talk to him. You may not have been popular, but you didn’t care. You fought back.

A cowardly archangel had to admire that.

You jogged into the small coffee shop, the aroma of ground beans hitting you right away. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for Gabriel.

The college janitor was sitting at a table in the corner, one hand holding a tabloid, the other stirring a whipped-cream covered hot chocolate monstrosity with a teaspoon.

“Sewer gators?” You asked, the faint hint of exhaustion in your voice.

“Crazy what people will believe, huh?” Gabriel replied with a grin. “Glad you can make it, Cupcake.”

You sat down, taking off your shoulder bag and placing it on the floor. “Sorry I’m late, I slept in.” You sighed.

“Not a problem. Want me to get you something? It’s on me.” Gabriel offered.

“Oh, I can’t-”

“Relax, sugar. It’s the least I can do.”

Finally, you complied, giving Gabriel your order. As he walked off to the counter, you couldn’t help but stare a little. He looked good in casual wear, especially from behind.

“So, how long have you been working at Crawford Hall?” You asked once Gabriel sat back down.

“Six years.” He replied. “Might quit soon.”

“Oh.” Your face fell. “Why?”

Gabriel couldn’t exactly say ‘because there are hunters on my trail and I’m not in the mood to get a stake through the chest.’

“Just have better things to do, I guess.” Was the excuse. Not a lie, just not the full truth.

“I can understand that.” You sympathised. “I’ll miss you.”

Gabriel grinned, tapping his fingers gently on the table top. “Aww, you care about me. I’ll miss you too.”

You smiled, hoping your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. You took your laptop out and placed it on the table, turning it on. “You sure you want to read my stories?” You asked.

“More than anything,” Gabriel replied.

Suddenly being a janitor didn't seem like the worst thing in the world to Gabriel.

~ Murdoch’s tag list - want to be added or removed? Send me an ask! ~

All fics: @alexanderhamlinsin @a-r-c-h-a-n-g-e-l @ashiewesker @ashtheironbat @authoressskr @baritonechick @blessedbebucky @crowleysprincess159 @cynda-kiwi @d4rzill4@eileenlikesyou-maybe @ellienovak @fayemenelmir @feelmyroarrrr @gabriels-depressed-angel @hiswickedkitty @hunters-hiraeth @kristaparadowski @lenawiinchester @like-gabriel-and-castiel @madelineannmolder @negansgrimes @oldpaperfan @sdavid09 @shrimpdrake @sumara62 @team-barry @thehowling1234 @thewhiterabbit42 @treitike@tenderlybeautifulbarbarian @tyrex15 @unsink-the-titanic

Gabriel: @elven-leaf @hiddles-and-skittles @hp-hogwartsexpress @im-gabriels-bitch @jannalionheart @elenawrit

#gabriel x reader #gabriel #janitor!gabriel #supernatural x reader #reader insert #tall tales #requested #tw: bullying

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cosmosogler · 7 years

Text

hnnnnnnnnnnnghhhhhhhhhhhh

i woke up on time but i didn’t want to do anything so i ended up getting out of the shower late. and then eating breakfast late. i was hungry, and i knew i had to teach for four hours straight, so i made four waffles instead of two. and a pbj, and the rest of my lunch, in the last 5 minutes before i left instead of like 15.

i biked to campus pretty fast... i got to class 1 minute before it started. i did my lecture and stuff and tried to be a lot more active with the matter model.

they asked another question that stumped me and i’m embarrassed because my notes were wrong too and i had to correct them when i figured it out. i’m embarrassed because it’s a basic physics newton’s laws sort of thing.

i was hung up on why the force on the sensor and the frictional force are always equal even when the block the sensor is attached to is accelerating. i looked up the horse and cart problem and understood it way better... two hours after the students had asked and the new section had started.

it really rustles my jimmies that i can’t make the three sections of exactly equal quality. i feel like i let my students down when i can’t very well explain a concept to them specifically, but i can to the next group!!!

suzanne mentioned today that she has a lot of trouble with basic stuff too, along with jennica, just because we haven’t taken the classes in forever. i did apologize to the students while trying to answer the question- i said i’d been working with energy for so long that forces didn’t really mean anything any more. we don’t even work with any numbers in class basically.

i was so exhausted afterward but i only had a five minute lunch break to shove the entire pbj in my mouth before i had to head over for my psychiatry appointment. i let the doctor prompt me on which information she wanted, but i did have a list of things to talk about in my life in chronological order to keep me on topic. i think it was a productive meeting since i kept it kind of, more organized than if i was just rambling about my childhood for an hour and a half, you know?

she raised her eyebrows a couple times... especially at the stuff leading up to and just after my heart surgery. i don’t know if i’m too focused on the negatives or what but i really just remember having a pretty bad time social life wise.

i know one family did come to visit me in the hospital- actually it was a student i didn’t spend a lot of time with. joey. he and his family came to bring me a card and hang out in the common area for a few minutes to see how i was doing. i was hooked up to my iv and i think i had just gotten the drainage tube out so i was on some strong painkillers. mom must have been talking to them. i fell asleep in the wheelchair.

it was too much i guess. the painkillers on top of the effort of keeping up with a conversation while my insides were still putting themselves back in place after getting a garden hose yanked out of my entire chest cavity.

i guess some people care more than they let on. and some people care less. he didn’t really do much to help me out with the bullying that doubled down after i got back. i still reflexively punch people that try to tickle or touch my nerve-damaged side. maybe his parents were more worried than he was. i dunno. it was 15 years ago.

now that i think about it... what the doctor said i should have had, at the hospital and going back to school afterward... i’m really upset. at the time i’d blinked and smiled and said “none of that ever occurred to me.”

but now i’m really sad. knowing what i didn’t have that should have been provided, i guess. i told her the hospital really was very busy, and that my parents were basically always around so they must have thought i was covered. and i had no idea the school was supposed to, i guess, assign some kind of buddy to make sure i could get around okay?

i’ve already talked about the wheelchair.

near the end she said “it sounds like no one’s really been there to support you.” i said “yes.” and showed her my teeth. it wasn’t really a smile. i think she could tell though. wasn’t foolin no one.

she made sure my meds were refilled for the next month. i talked about my grandparents too. on glenn’s side. how nice they were to me. i can’t say how they treated everyone, or even glenn and my uncle don, but the people who attended grandma pearl’s funeral had only the most glowing, actually kind of really sincerely fond memories.

uncle don seems to have had a complicated relationship with his parents. but he loved them enough to take care of them for a very long time after they got old. glenn didn’t. i don’t think i should ask what happened. i know parenting is hard and there’s probably not a perfect way to do it. but there’s... functional ways to do it. and i hope that they were functional parents.

anyway i caught the bus back to the physics building and had sooo much trouble sitting down to actually study. i didn’t want to open anything or even get out my notebook to try some practice problems. i sent danielle at the drc a semi-long email about my academic progress, since i had that midterm on tuesday, and some concerns about the upcoming friday test.

after that i strongarmed jennica into getting dinner with me. we went to subway. she didn’t actually want anything but i figured some exercise might help her settle down, and also it gave suzanne a small break. entropy can get contagious and jennica had been stopping her to look at this or that dress for several minutes. and i appreciated the company. going to subway alone when i’m so exhausted is super awkward. at least with jennica there if i couldn’t make a decision quickly enough i could smile apologetically at the lady behind the counter and say “sorry, i’m hella tired.” and jennica would laugh and the moment would continue.

it ended up not helping jennica that much but it did help me to get some food.

i think this was after i realized mom never put the 900 dollars back into my bank account. i talked seriously with jennica and taylor about some bank options and how to switch my direct deposit and stuff. they said it’s super easy. i asked one of them to go with me on saturday to make sure i get a good deal. taylor said that wouldn’t be a risk but jennica told me a couple things to watch out for and i think she also agreed to go with me but i’m not 100% sure on that.

anyway, after i ate i was in a much better mood. not a good mood, but a less bad one. i did finally get out my notebook and start... actually taking notes on the textbook. i didn’t get very far at all- i was interrupted- but i felt like it was working for me a little bit. i was trying to take the equations, and finding the main ideas for how we interpret those equations, and then writing that down in my own words. it’s been four hours and i still remember the difference between poisson’s equation and laplace’s equation- even though laplace is just a special case of poisson. i think, if i can identify the most important ideas behind the main equations given in the text, i can write that down and that will help me remember what the hell green’s theorem is or whatever next time it comes up on a test.

i also tried something new after i was interrupted. suzanne had gone to talk about the class with one of the undergrads in the same section and he allowed me to sit in on the session while we worked through practice problems covered in class.

suzanne made it so much easier though.

the new thing i tried is that i tried to basically repeat what suzanne was saying but in my own words. and i asked questions about what each variable *was*. and if i felt i didn’t understand it well enough i said it again a different way.

i couldn’t tell if it was slowing her and john down or not. i tried to pull back on the goofs at least. i also talked to john a little bit just trying to identify what it is about the professor’s lectures that has me so lost. and i figured it out!

he takes these practice problems from the book but then generalizes them to include all cases. this turns his math into monstrous entire-blackboard-spanning messes of variables and summations. and he skips important logic steps so it looks even more like a wall of chalk.

suzanne walked us through the simplest cases and then explained how some parts could be expanded to account for harder scenarios. i found that SUPER helpful because it let me point out myself where something could be made more complicated.

i have a lot of trouble with lectures, but conversations are so much easier. i don’t necessarily remember exact words or phrases but the idea sticks with me a little better. maybe it’s an active listening thing? or a participation thing. i had a good time in discussion-based classes back at villanova too.

i like john though. i hope he likes me enough to let me intrude on his tutoring time again. i felt bad that i was explaining really basic concepts- not to him, but to myself. but he seemed to react as if i was kind of, splainin at him about how image charges worked.

really it was because i had to remind myself a couple times that they are not actual charges that appear in a grounded plane as a response to a real charge. they are a math thing we use because it’s convenient.

hopefully that helps tomorrow on the test! i think the discussions are starting to help a little more... now that i’m getting less anxious about not getting stuff right away. i mean taylor and jennica give me Looks, sometimes, when i ask for a definition i should probably know by now. i get turned around by the notation kind of easily though, especially when i’m trying to identify the point where i stopped understanding the question. but if Looks are the worst they can do, well, i’ve had worse happen. in this department! with the e&m professor.

in the conservatory, with a knife.

dated jokes are the best.

anyway i think that is also going to be my good thing about myself for today because i am already running kind of late since mom called and wanted to chat for 10 minutes while i was trying to write. i got my test tomorrow. so i will try to rest now.

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