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the-ghost-king · 4 years ago

Note

time for me to share a good™️ headcanon: will and nico love to steal each other’s clothes but their massive size difference makes it so obvious that they’re doing it. nico’s shirts are almost croptops on will and will’s sweaters are practically a dress on nico bc will is like 6’2 and nico’s like 5’5

Anon! Anon! Yes, you. You get it.

I don’t really know what you wanted as a response to this but I felt inspired for the first time in some 10 months so I gifted you a one shot below the “read more”. I’ll also upload it to Ao3 with a link in the notes...

Anyhow Anon, I hope you enjoy it! I got a little off topic but reflective fluff is always good!

If you would have asked Will what he wanted out of life as a kid you probably would have gotten an answer that was something like “a chance to actually go and live life as it was meant to be” or maybe “to be happy, pretty, and stupid”.

He didn’t dare to hope for more, demigods didn’t live long lives, and being involved in a major battle at thirteen didn’t do wonders in regards to establishing confidence in your survival. As for the “pretty and stupid” part of his answer, it wasn’t that Will had ever hated being smart, he just hated the disconnect different intelligence levels caused in peer groups and society; being smart was hard, sure for school purposes it was nice, but that intelligence means you’re constantly thinking and so often so much of the world seems so dull and petty. Will had been lucky enough to be blessed with decent looks, moving through the world was made easy in at least that regard, but he wished he could live without thinking so much because so often he could only see so much awful in the world.

Thirteen year old Will wouldn’t have dared hope for anything more, he wouldn’t have dared hope for anything else more than a decade or so of normal life beyond camp and a chance at an easy life for those few years. When fourteen year old Will got a depression diagnosis he wouldn’t say he was surprised, he would have been annoyed but he hadn’t really felt much of anything in years. (”Atypical depression” The doctor had said, “likely clinical”) A few different types of anti-depressants and a few months of therapy things started feeling okay, better at least. Fifteen came and went, he tried to go off the pills and didn’t quite get there, but his dose got lowered which Will supposed was nice.

In the months of early 16, Nico di Angelo stumbles into his life; exhausted and melting under the pressure of the universe, he makes friends with death. It isn’t much, but Will remembers him from when they were kids back before any major fights. He remembers hearing about Nico running off and he felt bad for not having made a continued effort to get to know him. He felt bad when he left after the Battle of Manhattan too, they’d prepped bodies for their departure together and Will had gotten hung up in the infirmary (he had been one of the last Apollo campers and he was the only one with medical training). In some ways, Will supposed he was making up for those lost years when he didn’t have time to befriend Nico as he would have liked, it made him feel like he was at least trying.

In the beginning things were undeniably rocky, Nico was constantly hooked to machines just so Will could guarantee he wouldn’t die overnight. Even on Nico’s first night in the infirmary he had struggles with sleep, the bed wasn’t comfortable enough and after trying a large variety of options Will had hauled Nico and all of his equipment out to the porch on the back of the infirmary and they slept there for those three days (which turned into two weeks), wrapped up in jackets and in a pile of blankets beneath camp’s fall skies.

Within a few months, they fell in love.

Okay listen, people can call Will ridiculous all they want- but love at first sight is real and he experienced it. He didn’t know it but the day he met Nico and looked into the dark browns of his eyes, he thought something about how his eyes looked like ash from the fireplace at Mama’s house, or how they looked like the soil that his windowsill plants grew from. If you would have asked Will what he thought of Nico the very first time they’d met, he would have told you something about how his eyes were “big, dark, and round like a baby cow”. What Will really meant is that Nico reminded him of the family ranch house he grew up in, he meant he looked like home.

At the time Will just hadn’t known that was what love felt like, but when he figured it out one day teaching Nico how to play Hold ‘em on the back porch of the infirmary with a light breeze and setting sun as they settles down for bed; he knew one thing, he didn’t want anything more than to make Nico happy and he hoped that he could be a part of that more than anything.

It took a little longer for Nico to come around, he had his own demons to battle. Internalized homophobia, even in small doses, is a real downer to say the least, let alone when you’re fighting demons you’ve manifested for some 15 years. The biggest struggle however, was probably in all honesty the fact that Nico was so goddamned oblivious. After spending years alone with limited human contact at best, and having spent so many years desperately wanting Percy to notice him, and being met with negative reactions, Nico didn’t know what love looked like anymore. How had he been supposed to know he was in love with Will?

There was a lot of subtle back and forth, would the other even be interested in a guy? It ended one day with an unplanned kiss followed by a declaration. Will called it the best mistake he ever made, neither of them really thought it was a mistake.

It was days like today that only proved that.

Will had woken up to Nico’s face on a pillow next to him. He’d fallen asleep with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and some of his smaller hairs had fallen loose in the night and now framed his peaceful face. The first rays of golden sunlight fell through accidentally left open curtains, and Will reached out to brush a stray piece of dark hair and place it behind Nico’s ear.

He woke up to a morning more beautiful than he would have ever hoped for at 13, and he would always be glad for that. He would always be grateful for how far he had come in not quite a decade. At just twenty-two he was 4 years into medical school, and three years married to Nico and he truly believed he was one of the happiest men in the world simply because he made Nico happy.

In time, Nico too would wake up.

First with a huff, and then a grumbling noise of annoyance as he rubbed his face with his arm as though trying to block out light before half-asleep Nico seemed to accept his fate and wake up fully.

“Good morning”

“How long have you been up?”

“Awhile”

Nico made a knowledgeable humming sound, perhaps he was just acknowledging Will’s response or perhaps he was saying ‘of course’.

A few kisses, a short conversation, and a couple of “I love you”’s later, they got out of bed.

Nico's was wearing Will's high school hoodie that was a bit too short on Will anymore like it was a dress on him. The hoodie went down to Nico’s knees, he's got his own black shorts on because Will's just fall off unless he ties them really really tight. He's got black socks pulled up almost to his knees, there’s a little gap between the end of Nico’s shorts and the start of his socks. The hoodie goes down an inch or two past his short pockets, and he goes outside to grab the mail with a pair of unlaced combat boots on his feet. He's got his skull ring on his middle finger of his right hand, and his left hand holds a simple wedding band which glint in the light as he opens the front door. His hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, some of it is up some of it is down, there's tons of flyaway hairs which frame his face since he hasn’t fixed it sense getting out of bed.

Call it a cliché, but Nico looks like Heaven personified without even trying.

Sure, everyone looks nice in a suit or a dress, but how many people can roll out of bed without doing their hair wearing a decade old hoodie and look like they belong in a magazine spread?

Will is wearing one of Nico's looser shirts, on Nico it comes down past his hips and a little onto his thighs, on Will is he so much as lifts his arms a centimeter it reveals his hip bones. He doesn’t really mind, he kind of likes it to be entirely honest. Will can remember being just a few inches shorter than he is now and fitting fairly comfortably in Nico’s clothes at the time, they had never worried whose clothes they grabbed back then. Nico had finished his growth spirt and Will had thought he was done only two inches taller, it didn’t matter whose clothes were whose because everything fit well enough.

That wasn't quite the case now, Nico had stayed at his casual 5"5 while Will had shot up and extra six inches to 6"2 and ruined his own chances of sharing clothes. Such as right now he was sure he was wearing his own sweats, because he had specifically had to get a pair last night despite Nico's having been more accessible. Anytime he's actually managed to get a pair of Nico's pants comfortably on in the last few years, result in him wearing pants that are more like compression shorts or capris than pants.

Will was just happy he could wear some of Nico's larger shirts and hoodies still, the fact that Nico preferred to sleep in lots of clothes and typically baggy clothes meant Will had some options when it came to wearing his husbands stuff.

Will has also managed to steal a pair of Nico's socks, they're a taller pair on Nico (he buys winter wear so often because he's cold always) but on Will they gather a little awkwardly around his ankle. Will doesn't usually wear socks but they had gone to bed without the heat on and apparently the cold had set in over night and you could definitely feel it on their apartment floors.

The clothes would be a bit stretched out from him, it was something Will can remember being worried about after his second growth spurt, but Nico doesn't mind, He's assured Will of this time and time again, he says something about "aesthetic" and "alternative". Will doesn't really know, he's never cared much for fashion but he'll take Nico's word on it.

The truth, although it's something Nico would only admit in their bed late at night when it was so dark you could barely see his face, and arguably a little drunk as well, was that he actually enjoyed the way the clothes fit better after Will wore them. He found some sort of comfort in the way the shoulders of his shirts would be just a little too wide on him, it was one of those small acts of love, it wasn't one Will entirely understood but both of them got their own sort of enjoyment out of Will stretching out Nico's sleeping clothes some so they went with it.

Will turns his attention from Nico walking out the door to the coffee pot on the countertop.

Will doesn't like coffee much, he likes the social aspect of getting a cup more. Nico had introduced him to it, he’d been drinking it for years by the time they’d left camp. It reminded him of home and he grew to like it for such reasons, and although Nico would consume just about anything with enough caffeine in it Will needed creamer to enjoy coffee to any amount.

They were both honestly probably more tea people, but they never seemed to remember to buy any. Will will try to remember to write it down on the grocery list later, but Nico has walked back into the kitchen, climbed up on the counter next to Will and now he is looking at him; and Nico is always a distraction that's worthy of taking, Will will definitely forget to write down tea for their grocery list and the week will start over with more coffee in the house and no tea.

Nico’s fingers grip the countertop and he swings his legs a little bit back and forth from where he sits on the black granite, his white gold rings set against the counter in contrast. Will's worn out blue hoodie looks grey with age, the little printed letters are cracked and peeling on the back of it, his last name can still be read in white though.

Will knows the cliché about your lover wearing your name is often unhealthy and overly possessive, but he likes seeing Nico with his name because it feels like a gift. It’s like he’s given Nico a part of himself and Nico accepted it with pride, and Will loves that, he loves him and Nico being little pieces of each other.

Nico is smiling at him, and leans just so, Will turns in acknowledgment of the gesture, and moves so he’s standing to the left of Nico. Nico crosses his legs at the ankle and leans towards Will laying his head against Will where his neck and shoulder meet. Will leans forward and buries his face into Nico’s hair, comfortable and a little sleepy still.

"Coffee?"

"Mhmm."

"Good."

Will isn't the best cook, for fucks sake he's not even someone who could be considered a good cook, but he can handle this. Nico taught him the basics when they were still living at camp, Will failed every time, he ended up going home for a short period for Christmas break and begging his mom "teach me how to make eggs" he left off the bit about impressing Nico but he knows she knew. When he came back Nico had just smiled at him, "you practiced huh?"

Will hadn't gotten better at making much else, some eggs, toast, coffee and he could boil water now too! He had burnt lots of stuff over the years, plastic containers in the microwave, a plastic ladle they had on the stove top, at least 100 failed attempts at grilled cheese. Will was honestly just happy he hadn’t blown up any microwaves since he was a kid...

Nico had come home to many of Will's failed attempts at making him various things, sometimes the food was underdone other times it was bits of inedible char. Will did try, he really did, but the heat was always too high or he would end up distracted, or he would use sugar on accident instead of salt. Will did actually try, but his best attempts still often left something to be desired, so he often was the one doing dishes.

Most notably one time Nico had come home to him attempting to pan-frying some fish.

It had been supposed to be a surprise, it was Nico's birthday, and Will had had the day off of class even though Nico hadn't. He figured he would have surprised him; it had been back in their first apartment, not quite as nice as this one. A cheap tiled cream counter top that Nico had literally cringed at when seeing it the first time, the cabinets had somehow been cheaper than a set from IKEA and it had become an inside joke to them.

He had walked in the apartment to see smoke coming off the pan with a bit of flame still coming off it, and a large piece of charred fish stuck to the bottom of one of their frying pans.

"Hey dumbass, what did you do in here?"

People thought they were an odd couple, Will could see that. The whole parallel people drew between light and dark and optimism and pessimism and such between them, none of those people were really correct though. Will and Nico were more similar than they were different. At the end of the day it didn’t really matter what people said, Will liked Nico, he loved him in all honesty- he'd never heard the word "dumbass" said with so much affection.

Nico was hard for most people to read, years along had left him struggling emotionally in some manner; he did his best to hide most of his emotions, cloak them so heavily that sometimes they were even unrecognizable to Nico himself.

The most obvious example of this in regards to Nico was how "shut up" often meant "I love you", "idiot" was synonymous with "darling" in some ways. Don't get Will wrong, Nico could be very affectionate, but pet names came with hesitation for him in the early days; Should he use Venetian, Italian, or English? Masculine words that were romantic had been hard for him to say as well... But everyday he grew and got better, and Will was proud of him every time he called Will “dear” and didn’t hesitate before or after.

Nico had started masking his emotions at some point during his time at Westover, whatever he had done there hadn’t been much more than how much the average person masked their feelings, but when he started training with Minos Nico had doubled down on keeping his emotions secretive. Minos hadn’t been kind or safe in any sense of the word, emotions were what he used to manipulate Nico all that time, it was no wonder Nico developed such a strong sense of apathy towards anything overtime.

Nico could be affectionate, he could be the most loving person to ever exist. Nico’s emotions were sort of like secrets, if you stayed awake late enough into the night you would only come to know him then, such was the nature of him. He often whispered so quietly his wants and needs into the dark, there was some sense of fear tied to Nico’s vulnerability and he handed off his worries each night to the stars soft glow. Nico often refused to talk openly during the day, but at night apologies and truth always came, he had known what he had wanted earlier he had simply been to afraid of the rejection to acknowledge it, Will is glad that with the years the worst of such things is over; it is unlikely to be something Nico will ever fully grow out of, such is the nature of humanity, but progress is a virtue.

Such times not only resulted in Nico’s acknowledgement of his wants and faults, but also garnered the most affection from Nico. Nico couldn’t always communicate in an effective manner verbally, which was still a process they were working on, but he did his best. Nico’s act of love was like that of a small bird, he gave you small things that seemed insignificant until you realized he had only ever told you such things. Will fell in love with him for it, it wasn’t just about the way he would describe the wallpaper in his childhood bedroom, it was the fact that nobody knew anything else about Nico’s childhood bedroom.

Will had never truly understood the concept of “touch starved” until he met Nico, he had known the definition sure, but he had never truly witnessed it. Nico never asked for touch, but it was the way he leaned into it, the way he sought it out; pressing up against Will’s hand like a cat stretching trying to get a little more contact somehow, trying to make the touch last just a bit longer so he could savor it properly. It was literally starving in some manner, starving for contact that wasn’t a goodbye or a hit, just for wordless contact. When he grew comfortable he gave affection fully, there was a joy in holding Nico’s hand, knowing that he felt safe enough not to worry about the effect a few extra seconds of prepping for a fight that holding hands would add.

Nico didn’t show affection in big ways, and that was more than okay with Will; they were laid back in comparison to most, he’d have sought the comfort of placing soap bubbles on each others head in the tub a hundred times over a night on the town. Nico’s affection was something quiet and almost secretive, unknown to anyone it wasn’t directed at; it was the way he would lead Will out of a room to kiss him, or the quiet way he whispered “I love you” into Will’s ear when in public.

Will supposes in the early days “shut up” became “I love you” in order to avoid being seen as weak in some manner, in order to avoid acknowledging what he really wanted to say and having Will not respond in kind. Will didn't mind, they weren't an overly affectionate pairing- banter was common, almost everything they did was turned into some sort of game, the term "boys will be boys" definitely applied to their relationship of 3am pillow fights, late night discussions about what order the Christmas ornaments had to go up on the tree in, and whenever they wrote thesis papers for living room debates over the best Disney villain.

Will honestly preferred it that way, he preferred having the little moments reserved for solely them. He preferred the aversion to sappy clichés, the way a lover could say your name with exasperation and a smile that meant the whole world. He had seen what some other couples had, quick kisses in lines at cafes, holding hands across the table, and calling each other pet names they’d made up that were somehow ten times worse than the original- and Will didn’t want that.

It wasn’t that what those couples had wasn’t love, it just wasn’t love in a way Will could understand, it wasn’t love Will felt from those sort of exchanges. He didn’t understand the idea of “butterflies in your stomach”, love wasn’t nerves, love was like coming home after a long day, love was the way someone could say your name like it was divine, love was the way someone would smirk at you when you were missing the point, love was not being afraid to cry in front of them, it was knowing you could show up to them with any problem and instead of leaving you they would research the ins and outs of it in all their entirety.

The coffee maker makes a sound, Nico lifts his head of off Will’s body and the deep browns of his eyes are like the freshly turned dirt of fields in planting season, and Will feels like there’s a garden growing in his chest that Nico feeds. Nico sits straight on the counter and pulls his legs up and sits cross legged on the counter as he pulls out his hairband, and runs his fingers through his hair before pulling it back up without all the flyaways.

Will moves towards the coffee machine, pours it into two cups, and sets one on the counter beside Nico before making his way to the fridge to grab creamer. Nico’s watching him right now, but there’s no need for talking; there will be talking in a minute. Talking about Will’s schedule for the week, talk of whatever project Nico is working on right now, talk of what they should do for dinner the rest of the week, little sweet nothings, and eventually they’ll make their way to the couch to watch some tv and maybe later in the day they’ll play some sort of game or something as well.

So yeah, maybe "light" and "dark" were polar opposites and some people would have walked out on the word dumbass rather than immediately loving it, but Will liked it- everyday was a game of sorts, a new adventure, all with Nico who he loved. Coming home from work wasn’t necessarily about the place Will lived but knowing Nico would be there for him to see was the point of going home, home was wherever Nico was and some small part of Will hoped eternity was real in some manner.

Will remembered when Michael had died thinking nothing could possibly get worse, and in some ways he was kind of right; he had ended up with some sort of demigod style fairy tale ending with the man he loved, and that was ten times better than anything fifteen year old Will would have hoped for.

#solangelo #Nico di angelo #Will solace #pjo #hoo

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riverthunder · 4 years ago

Text

The Stars in Our Skies

For @thespacecryptid for the @ironstrangehaven Gift Exchange ❤️

Link to AO3 Post: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625829

Notes:

Alrighty, so first I need to apologize to my giftee, TheSpaceCryptid. I tried to finish your gift early, and I want to say I had it done sometime between the 15th and the 20th? And after a lazy Christmas Day I went into my Google Drive to post this and it was just... gone. I have no idea what happened. So I had to redo the whole thing from scratch. In some ways I like this version a lot more, though- and in others I think the original was a little better? But overall I'm pleased with this.

You had a lot of ideas I absolutely adore- like Asexual Stephen (insert my heart eyes here), and stargazing dates, and these two being professors. Just. Mwah. Beautiful.

Also, I'm tagging this as Teen due to some discussions of sex- nothing graphic, though, obviously- since I headcanon ace Stephen as a sex-repulsed asexual like myself.

I hope you like the fic and your bonus artwork to make up for how late this ended up being! Apologies again!!

The Stars in Our Skies

Tony stared just a little bit as the new astronomy teacher strolled into the break room and began fixing himself a cup of oolong tea. He had a beautiful face, with sharp cheekbones and a well-defined jaw, as well as piercing, beautiful eyes. Tony also had a funny feeling that he’d met the astronomy teacher many times before, but he couldn’t put a finger on where.

He knew Professor Strange had been a surgeon back in the day, and he was sure he’d seen him at some of the galas he’d attended in his youth. But it felt like he’d seen Strange more recently than that.

He was very obviously distracted during his class, and he gave up on whatever physics explanation he’d been trying to give the poor engineering class he was clearly confusing, and told them to just go ahead and work on homework, giving them a bonus extra two days on his latest paper as well to top it off while he sat back down at his desk to think.

At the end of the period, two of his best students came to sit next to him.

“Everything okay, Professor Stark?” Peter asked while Harley gave him a knowing smile.

“Fine, boys, just a little off my rhythm is all,” Tony said, trying to look unconcerned.

“You sure?” Harley asked innocently. “Sure it’s not something else? A certain someone, maybe? Like… I dunno… the hot new astronomy professor?”

Tony had been taking a drink of coffee and choked on it at Harley’s words, which was decidedly not good, since the coffee was still piping hot thanks to his specially designed insulated mug. “I- you- what?” Tony spluttered.

“What?” Harley asked innocently. “He’s kinda like you, Professor. A silver fox. He’s smokin’.”

“Harley!” Peter said indignantly. “You can’t say that about a professor!”

Harley shrugged. “Too bad, it’s true, Pete. ‘Sides, Professor Stark should come to terms with the idea.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Harley’s tone. “Oh really?” He asked. “Why?”

Harley shrugged innocently. “Because I wrote Professor Strange a note in your handwriting and hid it in his desk drawer asking him to go on a date with you tonight at 8:00.”

Tony stood up so quickly his coffee mug almost spilled all over the papers he’d collected from his first period, but before he could shout at Harley at the top of his lungs, a certain handsome professor was standing in his doorway.

“Oh,” Stephen said, looking from Tony to their students. “I’m sorry, are you busy? I could come back another time.”

He was holding a piece of paper that had obviously been folded a few times in one of his trembling hands.

“No, we were just leaving,” Harley said sweetly.

Peter felt himself blushing for some reason as he passed Professor Stark a quick note of his own. “Um, I just wanted to know if you’d please check my work on these chemistry notes,” he said.

Tony glanced down at them. A new web-fluid design. He nodded to Peter. “Yes. Yes. I’ll look them over and e-mail you with any necessary changes.”

“Thanks!”

Without another word, Peter seized Harley’s upper arm and dashed out of the room, while Harley laughed and tried to protest, clearly thrilled with watching Tony flounder in the presence of his crush. You could hardly blame him. Seeing Tony Stark, Iron Man, who was a professor for fun, flounder, was a rare and almost unheard of sight.

“Hello, Professor Stark,” Strange said politely, and Tony felt his face heating up. “Um- hi- I-”

“I am very sorry,” Stephen said, setting the note in his hand down on Tony’s desk. Tony caught a glimpse of the handwriting- fucking identical to his own. That damn Keener brat. When Tony got his hands on him-

“But I am afraid I must decline your invitation.”

Oh.

Tony hadn’t even known he was asking Stephen on a date a few minutes ago, but somehow Stephen’s words still stung.

“Oh,” he said out loud. “Uh… busy?”

“No,” Stephen replied.

Yeah, that definitely hurt.

“Oh.” Tony glanced at the note and quickly plucked it off the desk. “Okay. That’s fine, I understand. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with this.”

“You didn’t,” Stephen told him. “It was actually very flattering. But I don’t think you would like to be in a relationship with me, so I am afraid I must decline.”

Wait, what?

“Uh… sorry, you lost me,” Tony said awkwardly.

Stephen chuckled. “I identify as asexual,” he explained. “Specifically, a sex-repulsed asexual. And from what I know of your past...er, love life, I think it’s better if I decline the invitation altogether. I don’t want to upset you because you want to have sex and I don’t.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “So it is an ace ring!” He said, pointing at the black ring on Stephen’s middle finger on his right hand. “Rhodey called me crazy and said it was a swinger’s ring!”

Stephen blinked in surprise and glanced down at his ring. “Er- yes, it is,” he agreed.

“Cool! Okay.” Tony shot him a smirk. “In that case- are you an ace of spades?”

Stephen looked shocked. “You- you know about the card suits?”

“Sure do,” Tony said proudly.

Stephen narrowed his eyes. “Okay then- who uses the ace of diamonds?”

“Demisexuals and demiromantic asexuals,” Tony said. “Ace of clubs is for graysexual and grayromantic, ace of spades is for aromantic asexuals, and ace of hearts is for romantic asexuals.”

He grinned, and Stephen had to crack a smile. “Very impressive.”

“So, what’s your suit, Doc?” Tony asked, grinning at him, and Stephen had to resist the urge to let that smile widen.

“Ace of hearts. I’m a romantic asexual.”

Tony grinned. “I can work with that.”

Stephen allowed his face to fall into a small frown. “Tony, I-”

“Look, Doc, I don’t need sex to be happy,” Tony said. “I’ve had loads in my day, yeah, but I’m a big boy and frankly, I think it’s about time I had a relationship that wasn’t so focused on it. If you’re good with a romantic relationship, I can be happy with one, too.”

Stephen chuckled despite himself. “Persistent, aren’t you?”

“Very,” Tony said, a bit smugly.

Stephen chuckled. “Very well.” He wrote something on a small scrap of paper and offered it to Tony, taking back the note Harley had written. “You can pick me up there, at 8:00.”

“I’ll be there,” Tony said, snatching the fake letter back. “And I’ll give you something actually written by me then.”

~(*)~

Tony pulled up to the house on Bleecker Street. Huh… looked kinda like a museum, to be honest.

The elegant Professor Strange was already walking to meet the car. “Right on time,” he teased, climbing in. He looked like he was putting on a brave face as he entered, and Tony took note of the way Stephen’s hand reached for the cabinet handle on the inside of the door.

Tony bit his lip. “I just like to be on time to things,” he said casually, placing his right hand on the console if Stephen wanted to hold it too, or instead.

Stephen nodded. “Well, I appreciate it. So, what’s the plan for our date?”

“I think you told Professor Verity that you like ramen from Samurai Noodle, right?”

Stephen smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Great! Then we’re getting take-out,” Tony told him, grinning to himself. “And I have a great idea of where we can eat it.”

“Oh? And where is that, exactly?”

“It’s a secret,” Tony said, smirking. “Are you ready to go?”

Stephen nodded, looking amused as he took Tony’s free hand on the console. “That I am. Let’s go, Professor Stark.”

Tony snorted as he started the car. “Alright.”

He tried to sound cool, but he knew that he had started blushing.

~(*)~

“So what exactly are we doing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?” Stephen asked as Tony laid a large blanket out in one of the large fields near the Avengers Compound.

“Why?” Tony asked, smirking at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

Stephen chuckled. “Is that your way of saying you’re secretly an ax murderer about to eviscerate me in the middle of this field, free of any witnesses?”

“Ouch,” Tony complained. “You’re really good at wounding someone’s ego, you know that, Strange?”

“So what’s the real reason we’re out here, then?” Stephen asked, amused.

“Lay down,” Tony ordered, pointing to the blanket. “And look up.”

Stephen did so, and gasped in surprise. “The stars….” He breathed, sounding mesmerized.

“That’s right,” Tony said, smiling at him. “Not to easy to see them in the city. But I figured you’re the Astronomy Professor… maybe you’d like to see them more clearly? Maybe teach me something I don’t know?”

“Lay down,” Stephen ordered quietly. “There… Orion the Hunter. Can you see his belt? The three stars, just here.”

“Oh… right,” Tony said. “Isn’t he that dude everyone says Artemis loved?”

“A common misconception these days,” Stephen murmured. “In many of the myths, Artemis was actually the one to kill him, on purpose, for harassing her friends, the Pleiades, or she would encourage someone else to kill him for her, such as Apollo. He’d summon a giant scorpion to kill Orion, which many believe is Scorpio, as the two constellations aren’t around at the same time. When Scorpio rises, Orion vanishes.”

“Cool,” Tony said softly, staring up at the night sky with Stephen. “What else can you see?”

“Sirius, the Dog Star, Orion’s hunting dog,” Stephen said, pointing to the bright star. You can see the constellation Taurus there. Gemini there. Monoceros is there, very faint. You see? Look closely.”

“Beautiful,” Tony murmured, resting his head on Stephen’s chest as he gazed up at the sky.

Stephen smiled to himself and wrapped an arm around him. “Hmm. Not as beautiful as you,” he murmured in a thoughtful voice, making Tony blush.

~(*)~

“Was that an okay date?” Tony wondered as he drove Stephen back to Bleecker Street.

Stephen smiled at him. “You don’t know?”

“Not really,” Tony admitted. “And I kinda wanna… you know. Do this again.”

Stephen chuckled as they reached the museum door. Wait… how come even the building looked sort of familiar? And the street…?

“Well, in that case… it was a perfect date, Professor Stark.” Stephen leaned over, kissing his lips gently. “And I expect to go on another one with you very soon.”

“Sure,” Tony said, a little breathlessly, his eyes wide as he stared at Stephen. “Whatever you want….”

“Perfect.” Stephen smiled at him, and suddenly something long, red, and fluttering was at his throat, gently tugging him out of the car. “Alright, Levi, alright. I’m coming,” Stephen murmured, reaching out to stroke the red fabric.

Tony stared at it. A sentient cloak….

Wait- was he-?

Stephen was already disappearing inside the door when Tony found his voice, so he couldn’t ask him directly. He sat in the dark of his car, dumbfounded, and feeling his heart pounding. Was that the kiss, his sudden epiphany, or both?

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Boss?” Chirped the cool Irish accent.

“Am… am I dating the Sorcerer Supreme?”

Extra Notes:

To clarify the "Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme but Tony doesn't recognize him but is sure he's met him before" thing- I headcanon that Stephen's magic acts as a sort of "barrier" to his identity- and just protects his identity for him. I got the idea from Cute High Earth Defense Club actually- where the villains and heroes can't really recognize each other as specific students when they meet due to "radio interference" almost- but in my Stephen headcanon, it's more that the magic puts a sort of veil over Stephen, so Tony is sure he's met him before, but he can't put his finger on where until he recognizes Cloakie and goes "oh shit, Stephen's the Sorcerer Supreme I've been battling monsters with???"

#Ironstrange #IronStrange fic #IronStrange Art #chara’s fics #chara’s art #gift art #gift fic #tony stark #anthony edward stark #stephen strange #stephen vincent strange

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chaotically-cas · 4 years ago

Text

I do all the couples asks for darpollo even though no one asked

I spent forever on this 😐

How did they first meet?

There gangs have always known each other so they’ve always kind of known of each other

What was their first impression of each other?

Darry thought he was immature & juvenile (which he can be) & Apollo thought Darry was brooding & angry (he can be)

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Curly & Pony probably would? Maybe?? I can also see Two Bit advocating for it.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Hear me out. So Apollo was obviously the big flirt & stuff. But I think Darry was the first one to actually be like. You moron. I want to date you. & I love that for them.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

I think Darry might of, for reasons of his brothers & just. Apollo being a moron. But he gets over it.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Apollo would’ve been very open & loving to the idea & Darry would’ve been 0_o for a second but then he would just say ‘screw it’.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Very utterly boring.

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Apollo had been flirting for a very long time but Darry was the one that first asked him out. Very awkwardly might I add. But Apollo thought it was adorable.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

Apollo insisted. Big sweet & romantic date. Like a fancy dinner or something. & then ofc dancing to Darry’s vinyls. Obviously.

What was their first kiss like?

If we’re going with my fic, then it was quick but cute on Darry’s front porch at night before Apollo went home. & then another while they were dancing.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Both each other’s first serious relationship but it works well

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Apollo is like. 6 months younger. But 1-2 inches taller. I said what I said.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Apollo loves Pony & Soda (while Soda might not like him much, he deals) & Darry insists that his parents would have loved him. & ofc Darry gets along with Tim. Tolerates the terror twins.

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Both? Apollo? Idk

Who gets jealous easier?

I think it depends on the situation. For Darry, he hates people hitting on & touching Apollo. Apollo finds it funny when it happens to Darry, but he still makes sure to step in.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Apollo. Next.

Who said “I love you” first?

Darry. Idc.

What are their primary love languages?

Apollo’s is probably physical touch cause he never got any growing up lolz. Darry’s might be the same, occasionally. But probably words of affirmation, which Apollo is great at.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

Apollo

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

As freaking often as possible. Constantly. Usually stated by Apollo.

Who initiates kisses?

Apollo most the time but when Darry is in a good mood, he does a lot. Also kiddos sorry but the next one.

How long into the relationship before they had sex?

I made them fork on the first date in my fic. So true me. It’s a decision I think about often.

Who’s the big and little spoon?

BIG SPOON APOLLO LITTLE SPOON DARRY

What are their favorite things to do together?

Dance, talk, listen to music, cook, watch tv, & just be together

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Apollo is good at helping Darry when he is upset & Darry is good at calming down Apollo when he gets upset. They both are really good at expressing themselves & talking.

Who’s more protective?

Darry yup

Who remembers the little things?

They both do cause they know how important it can be

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

Depends on the situation, but mostly physical

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

Paper rings by Taylor Swift & Yellow by Coldplay

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Darry is: babe, Dar, angel, my love, shorty, doll, doll face, etc

Apollo is: Pollo, blueberry, sweetie, handsome, honey, etc

If they get married, who proposes?

Apollo proposes with a ring he made himself from scratch so true

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

Ok. Listen. They would have a huge wedding. Because I think Apollo would want them to have the dreaming they never thought they could. & at first Darry was like.... but yeah. Not expensive. But big.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

The have their gangs. That’s enough.

Do they have any pets?

Does the gangs count

Who’s the stricter parent?

Darry 100% omg, Apollo is the person to give a 14 year old the keys to his car (that 14 year old was Curly)

Who worries the most?

I think this is easy. Darry. He worries constantly, nonstop. But Apollo really tries his best to calm him when he can.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Darry 100%

How do they celebrate holidays?

Pretty minimally. Small gifts & just time together. Soft kisses & kind words. They don’t do much.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Apollo would beg Darry

Who’s the better cook?

If I had to chose, I would say Apollo. But both Darry & him grew up & still feed the others so I think they are both very great cooks together.

Who likes to dance?

Omg help to anyone who remembers the fic again, they both do. Darry learned to dance with his parents growing (canon) & is good at is (also canon) & Apollo isn’t the best but in a kind of charming way. So they both do. I think it’s a common pass time for them.

Who’s the cuddler?

Apollo is 100% always down for cuddles no matter what or when. & Darry is too after a long day.

Who goes to bed late and who wakes up first?

They both kinda go to bed early, but if they stay up they stay up together. Darry usually wakes up first but sometimes Apollo wakes up first so he can surprise him with breakfast in bed & stuff.

Who sings during daily activities (shower, cooking, etc)?

Apollo. Nonstop. It’s constant with him. But Darry doesn’t mind it at all.

Who takes care of the other on sick days?

Both! They both do splendidly either way.

Who gives unprompted massages?

Apollo after Darry has had a hard or long day

Who gives nose/forehead/hand kisses?

Apollo mainly he likes to shower Darry in as many kisses & possible. & Darry gives a lot of nose kisses when he is tired or just feeling loving. Idk I think it’s something that would be important to him.

Soft kisses or passionate kisses?

Both but mainly soft

Who writes love letters/notes to the other?

Apollo omg he is the type to write in the steam on the mirror & draw hearts everywhere

Who makes romantic surprises without a reason to?

I feel like they actually both would equally

Who will sing cheesy romantic songs when drunk?

Apollo. 100%. But I think imagining Darry doing it is one of the best things I’ve ever thought of-

#darpollo #yes I’m crazy about them #I spent an hour on this #does it make me narcissistic? maybe

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lunawritesaa · 4 years ago

Note

headcanons for how apollo and franziska would celebrate valentines day with their s/o?

——

characters: apollo justice, franziska von karma

a/n: gn pronouns

comments: this is kind of a more “first valentine’s together” and i got very carried away so enjoy~

genre: fluff

[requests are closed, rules are pinned]

——

{apollo justice}

Apollo was one of those people who would always get super sad around Valentine’s Day because seeing all of the hearts and love made him feel lonely.

But you can bet that the second the day rolls around after he enters a relationship with you he is all over it.

Because of his sheer lack of experience with dating and romance in general, he goes really cliché with how he plans Valentine’s Day with you.

Flowers, chocolate, candy, teddy bears. If it’s been in one of those cheesy romcom movies, Apollo’s bought it.

He’s always wanted to have a partner that he could celebrate this day with so he really, really wants to make it as special of a day as possible. He’s been thinking about how he’s wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with a partner for years.

After he comes home from buying this surplus of gifts for you he just stares at it all and wonders if maybe he went a bit overboard.

He quickly dismisses these thoughts by telling himself that you deserve each and every one of these presents. And yes, you do deserve all of them.

Eventually the day rolls around and Apollo is both a bundle of nerves and excitement. He for one is super happy to have you in his life to finally have someone to celebrate the day with. But he’s also nervous that maybe he bought too many things and oh god what if you don’t like them-

The entire day he’s just constantly thinking about you and how much he loves you. The work day cannot go by fast enough; he honestly just wants to clock out and get ready for the dinner he’s planned for you.

Speaking of dinner, you better believe that Apollo will be cooking for you. He’s been practicing all week for this.

When he’s finally done with his shift (and by that I mean Phoenix noticed how visibly anxious he was and let him go early) he bikes home faster than he ever has in his life.

The second he’s home he instantly starts with the final preparations in order for the night to be perfect: starts the meal, takes a quick shower, and makes sure all his gifts for you are fine.

He accidentally starts the meal a bit too early and it’s done a little bit before you arrive causing him to nearly blow a gasket.

But before he can freak out about it too much his doorbell rings.

Apollo does a quick once over of his apartment, making sure everything looks nice before greeting you at the door.

You look beautiful, as always, and he can’t help but stare as his face turns a bright shade of pink. Cute...

When you walk in you’re greeted with the, ahem, huge pile of stuff that he got you. He’s very bashful about it and doesn’t want to mess anything up.

A huge wave of relief washes over him when you tell him how much you love everything he got you. And please, tell him you like everything he got you.

If you got him a little something he will turn red again and insist that you didn’t have to!! Like he didn’t buy you a million things.

He’s very appreciative and will treasure whatever you got him for years.

Dinner goes smoothly as well! All of his preparations paid off and his cooking is rather good. He’s never thought of himself as a good cook but now...

Afterwards the rest of night is mostly spent cuddling up together on the couch. Apollo has this childlike grin on his face.

A lot of “I love you’s” come out of his mouth and each one is as sincere as the last.

He’ll still go overboard next year though.

——

{franziska von karma}

Franziska does not really know how to celebrate Valentine’s Day. To be quite honest with you, she’s never really seen the purpose in celebrating it anyway.

Because of that, she never paid the day any special attention.

But as she sees the stores beginning to stock Valentine’s candy and treats you cross her mind and she wonders if maybe this year she should care about it. The day is meant to express your love to your partner and you are her partner after all.

To say that she’s out of her element would be an understatement.

In true von Karma fashion, once she sets her sight on something that she wishes to do she will not settle for anything less than perfection. She will make this the best damn Valentine’s day that you will ever have.

She’s also really good at hiding her true emotions and intentions too. You can ask her several times “do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day” and she will always respond with “hmph, I don’t see a point in celebrating trivial holidays”

Don’t lie Franziska, we all know you’re planning something extravagant behind your back.

Anyway, she really tries to make it seem like she has no intention of doing anything with you. Mostly so you don’t expect anything and then she can surprise you with the best date ever.

Franziska’s natural instinct when it comes to what to do for a day that she has no idea what “normal people” would do for it is to research it. A lot.

She soon learns the entire history of Valentine’s Day to a tee and can tell you who started it, why, when and how the day gained popularity.

But that’s not all! She also looks into traditional dates for the occasion and what most people would do for their significant other to make the day special.

Just because she’s looking into what normal people do doesn’t mean she is going to pick something normal to do. No, she’s making this special and the best. Nothing short of perfection.

When the day eventually comes, she starts off the day by greeting you at your home with a bouquet of flowers. Traditional, yet the flowers are very fancy and beautiful. They reminded her of you but she does not muster up the courage to tell you this.

She tells you to clear your schedule, not that you really had one anyway, because she is taking you out on a date. For the whole day.

Starts by taking you to a local market to mostly just browse the selection. The two of you walk hand and hand through the stands and occasionally buy some little baked good or pastry that you wanted to try.

Franziska will pay for all of it. No, you cannot stop her. No, she will not let you pay. She is treating you today. No matter how much you beg her to let you buy something she will not listen to you.

Afterwards the two of you sit at a picnic area nearby and enjoy the food that you got for a nice little lunch!

Once you’re done with lunch she takes you to her next date location: a strip of shops downtown. Which was not that far from the market.

The two of you do some shopping, mostly window shopping as you walk past the little stores.

You take her into the one fashion and accessory store to buy her a new bow that you think would look adorable on her!! She’s super blushy and flustered as you get her to try on new bows but she is very appreciative of the gift.

And she will wear the bow with pride every day and if anybody says anything negative about it they will get a mouthful of her whip.

The last and final destination of her date is just a nice stroll on the beach.

She takes you out near the shore and sort of just... talks. She talks so sincerely, mostly about how thankful she is for you and how much she loves that you’re a part of her life.

That’s when she gives you her main gift of the day, which is a small necklace with both of your initials on it. She won’t look at you as she hands it to you, and her cheeks are flushed a light pink.

But she will help you put it on, a small smile on her face once it’s put into place. It looks beautiful on you.

Her heart flutters every time she sees you wearing the necklace, and it never fails to remind her of the amazing day that was your first Valentine’s day together.

——

#ace attorney x reader #ace attorney hcs #ace attorney headcanon #franziska von karma #franziska von karma x reader #apollo justice #apollo justice x reader

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solangelover · 4 years ago

Text

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

Solangelo Week 2020 - god swap / body swap @solangeloweek

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

A/N: (Ignore how late this fic is) I recently realized that I love the tag “crack treated seriously” and then I was like, wait is that what I write?? Oh well XD

“Ugh, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Oh gods, what are we going to do??”

Will and Nico were behind the Hades cabin, but not for the reasons they’d like to be.

Currently, Will was looking at Nico and Nico was looking at Will, but they were also staring at themselves. Because they were in each other’s bodies. Because why not.

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose (Will’s nose?), sighing, “This is ridiculous.”

Will was a little more panicky than his boyfriend. “Oh my gods, how and why is this happening? We can’t be stuck like this! Can we be stuck like this? Oh my gods, what if we’re stuck like this???”

The boys had woken up from a nap together (a literal time of sleeping together) in the early afternoon, only to find that they weren’t quite themselves. They also found a note on the nightstand that said, “Don’t tell, or it’ll take longer to wear off!” signed with a simple red heart. The situation was pretty straight forward, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle.

“Solace, calm down. We’ll be fine. This is either a prank from the Aphrodite kids or Aphrodite herself. I don’t think any children of Aphrodite have ever had precise enough control of their power to extend the time of their curses, though I’ve also never heard of any body or mind swaps from them either…” Nico tapped his chin in thought.

“So you think this is directly from a goddess??” Will flailed his arms for emphasis. He had not been still since they woke up switched.

Nico held up his hands placatingly. “Will, I said to calm—��

“When has that ever made anyone calm??”

Nico’s eyes flicked to the ground behind Will, noticing some movement. He immediately recognized the shadows reacting to Will’s panic, swirling around his feet and slowly pulling upward like a barrier. Huh, so that’s what that looks like, Nico thought, finally seeing what other people saw. He could admit that it was slightly terrifying.

“Okay! Okay, Will, just, breathe with me. Remember, like you taught me?” Nico drew in a deep breath, emphasizing the movement with his hands. He exhaled loudly. “In 4, hold 3, out, like, 5. Right?”

“What, no, do you even listen to me? It’s in 4, hold 7, out 8. Like this,” and Will proceeded to do several slow breaths. Nico was grinning even as he copied Will. He also realized how different he looks when he’s not frowning while doing the exercise. He should probably pay attention to his facial expressions more.

After a few more breaths, Nico ventured, “Better?”

Will blinked a few times before letting out a chuckle. “Oh, I see what you did there. Sneaky Death Boy.” He smiled at Nico, which, again, was a very different sight to Nico. Not that he didn’t smile often, but for some reason, Will made his smile look brighter.

Instead of saying this, Nico replied with, “Well, actually I think you’re the Death Boy now, Sunshine.”

Will face palmed while Nico laughed. It was weird to hear Will’s laugh ringing in his own ears, knowing that Nico himself was the one laughing. Switching bodies was a real out-of-body experience.

Nico jolted and then groaned to himself. “Will, please tell me you don’t think in puns.”

Will immediately straightened up and asked desperately, “What was the pun? Please tell me, I haven’t thought of a single one this whole time.”

Nico sighed. “Just how this is a real out-of-body experience.”

Will burst into laughter immediately. “Oh, that’s a good one!” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Yeah, puns just pop into my head. I don’t know if it’s a gift from Apollo or what, but I love it and already miss it.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I hate you. Or me. I hate this body and brain. It’s stupid.”

Will hummed. “That’s not what you said last night.”

“Will, I swear to the gods, stop taking flirting tips from Cecil and Lou Ellen. They make no sense coming from you. I didn’t even see you yesterday!” Nico wrinkled his nose in disgust as he watched his boyfriend waggle his eyebrows suggestively with his body. “Also, don’t make me say or do dumb things. It’s wrong.”

Will’s face lit up, which really made Nico look his age instead of like the 80-something year old he truly was, and he proceeded spin around and flail his arms. Nico knew this to be Will’s version of dancing.

Will abruptly stopped and pouted at Nico. “No fair. I can literally feel your body being graceful even when I’m controlling the movements. I can’t make you dance badly if I tried!”

“Don’t test that theory,” Nico chuckled despite himself, glad to see that Will had calmed down and was actually having fun in this scenario. He’d hate to ruin the good mood, but, “How long do you think this will last?”

Will sobered up quickly, folding his arms in thought. “Hard to say. Like you said, we’ve never heard of this kind of prank being pulled before. So, if it really is from the goddess of love… then we just have to not make her mad so she lifts the curse, or at least, doesn’t extend it.” His eyebrows furrowed quizzically. “Why did she curse us in the first place?”

“I bet she was just bored,” Nico shrugged. “Anyway, her note also said that we can’t tell anyone, otherwise we’ll be stuck like this for longer. So…” he trailed off, unsure of where that left them.

“Basically, we have to be each other for however long, without telling anyone directly what’s happening.” Will swallowed.

The boys let that sink in. And then simultaneously groaned.

“I was supposed to teach a sword lesson in a few hours,” Nico grumbled, imagining just how much could go wrong with Will handling a sword. Granted, he’d be in Nico’s body, but still.

“And I have a shift at the infirmary through dinnertime,” Will ran a hand through his hair, distracted momentarily by the silky black locks he combed through instead of his normal wiry dirty blonde hair. At least Nico had helped in the infirmary enough to know what Will did and where things were. But he did not have the medical training and experience Will had. What might happen if a camper got seriously hurt?

They sat in silence for a bit as they thought this over. Could they pull it off?

“…”

“This is bad.”

“This is doable,” they said at the same time. Nico looked up in concern, thinking his boyfriend was overestimating his sword skills, while Will looked mildly offended as he thought Nico was doubting his own knowledge of the infirmary.

“Neeks! You can totally take a shift at the infirmary. My siblings will be there for anything major,” Will stated with his hands on his hips. He had to look up slightly since Nico was a few inches shorter than Will, which was definitely a new experience for Will.

“Okay,” Nico looked doubtful, but continued. “But I don’t think you can run a sword lesson. No offense,” he tacked on with an apologetic smile.

Will hummed in agreement. “Yeah, that’s probably true. We can cancel it, though, right? Or ask someone to take it over?”

“Ugh, I don’t know. I don’t want to cause suspicion or upset the love goddess for any reason,” Nico frowned. “… I think we might just have to… do this.”

They stared at each other for a moment more.

“Oh gods,” Will buried his face in his hands.

“Merda,” Nico glared at the sky, the bright blue like Aphrodite herself was mocking him. She probably was.

---

*At the arena*

“Okay, guys! Um, today we’re going to shake things up and have some fuuuuun!” Nico was absolutely going to kill Will for making him sound like an idiot, but he didn’t know what else to do. Six kids between eight to ten years old gazed up at him with varying levels of excitement and confusion. Will distractedly realized how much he’s sweating (though more from nerves than physical exhaustion) and understood why Nico did his usual training shirtless. But Will was highly unsure about being so close to his shirtless boyfriend’s body, regardless of who’s brain was controlling his movements. So, the shirt stayed.

“What are we doing that’s so great, Mr. Nico?” An eight-year-old Ares girl looked a little too excited about sword-fighting class for Will’s comfort.

“Um,” Will rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he spoke. He was reaching for any way to circumvent dangerously pointy weapons when an idea struck him. “Oh!” He smiled at the kids, who looked quite off-put by the expression. “Today, we’re going to discuss basic medical knowledge to know when you’re on the battlefield!”

The groans he received put a damper on what he thought was a very practical lesson that he’s immensely proud he came up with.

“But that’s what infirmary class is for! Mr. Will taught us!”

“Yeah, I wanna fight with swords!”

“Ah ah ah!” Will interrupted their grumblings before it got out of hand. “Mr. Will teaches what the medics do once you can leave a fight and be treated properly. This will be quick fixes while you’re still fighting. It’s important that you can quickly assess wounds and determine your next course of ac—”

“Ugh, you sound like Mr. Will!”

“Yeah, you never talk this much, Mr. Nico.”

“Maybe he’s not the real Mr. Nico.”

These kids were getting dangerously close to the truth, and Will almost wanted to tell them so they’d stop complaining. But no, couldn’t do that. Hm, how do I make them interested while sounding like Nico…

Will lit up when he finally realized what to do. Really, he should be better at this, he has so many little siblings. But he and Nico didn’t exactly behave in the same way. Nico didn’t like coddling kids in any way, especially not in his class. That’s probably why they loved him so much.

“Okay, okay,” Will said loudly, cutting off the students’ whispering as he sat down in front of them. “How about I tell you a story?”

Immediately, all the kids cheered and sat down as close to him as they could, stars shining in their eyes.

“Haven’t you fought werewolves?”

“Do you see ghosts?”

“You fought with Percy Jackson! Tell us about him!”

“What kind of powers do you have?”

“Oh, tell us about defeating the Titans!”

“Are zombies, like, super gross?”

Will laughed at how excited they all were. He almost forgot that Nico was a famous war hero instead of his dorky boyfriend. “Okay, listen closely. You may learn a thing or two from my heroic tales!” He puffed out his chest dramatically, drawing adorable giggles from everyone. He then launched into a story about one of Nico’s many battles, throwing in how he used his medical knowledge to patch himself up and continue fighting. Needless to say, everyone paid attention when Will brought out some bandage rolls for them to practice with.

---

*At the infirmary*

“Will, what in Hades are you doing?”

Nico jumped at Kayla’s voice sounding behind him. His head knocked into a shelf, spilling supplies on the floor. He was not hiding in the supply closet.

“Um,” he began eloquently. “Inventorying?”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Bro, you did that yesterday. And we don’t have that many people coming in here, so I highly doubt we’re low on anything.” So maybe she was just exasperated with her brother and didn’t suspect anything weird was going on.

“Well, you know me,” was a phrase that Will never said and yet it’s all Nico could think of. He shrugged apologetically at Will’s sister.

“Whatever, come on, Cecil just came in with some burns on his arms. I’d say it was from the lava wall, but he probably exploded something in his face.” She led the way out of the supply closet and toward the front of the infirmary. Where Cecil, Will’s best friend, was waiting and would surely notice something off about Will.

“What are you going to do?” he asked Kayla.

She eyed him with some suspicion. “… What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, uh,” Nico was confused. “Um, nothing? Whatever you normally do?”

“… Huh.” (Will had definitely given her a task to do that morning.)

She was about to respond when Nico blurted out, “You can end early, if you want.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. That was not a common thing for the head medic to say, for sure.

“I mean,” Nico floundered for any sort of reasoning. “You’ve been working hard recently, and I just thought you might like a little extra free time.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And you’re taking the cabin to dinner tonight since I’m working, which is hard enough.”

At that, Kayla laughed and seemed to relax. “Yeah, no kidding. You want me gone? I’m gone, no problem.” Nico sighed with relief. Then he realized that if anyone came in majorly injured, he’d have no help. He thought about taking it back, but she was already out the door.

With another sigh, Nico headed toward the bed Cecil was currently lounging on, not concerned in the slightest about the mild burns on his forearms. He picked up his head as Nico approached.

“‘Sup, Will!”

Nico shook his head, feeling Will’s blond wisps tickle his face as he did so, and gave his friend an exasperated smile like he’d seen Will do a million times over. “Here again, Markowitz?”

Cecil threw his head back and laughed. “Markowitz? I thought Mr. Doom-and-Gloom was the only one who used last names like the old-timer he is?”

“Uh,” Nico fumbled. “Yeah, I was just… testing it out?”

“Okay, Doctor Solace,” Cecil rolled his eyes. “I just need the magic bandages and I’ll be on my way.”

Right, healing magic. Something Will should be able to do. But Nico doesn’t know if he can make his powers work properly. “Right, I’ll just… get some bandages.”

Cecil didn’t seem to notice or care about the healer’s apparent hesitation, simply leaning back on his bed. “Sure thing. So, how’s life, my friend?”

Nico scoffed, “Don’t we see each other every day? Multiple times?”

“That doesn’t mean I know how you’re doing. Is it so wrong I want to hear from my best friend, my buddy, my pal?” Cecil was so dramatic sometimes.

Nico just hummed in response as he came back with some bandages and burn ointment. Thank the gods he had helped out in the infirmary many times in the past. Will taught him the basics at least, and he’d taken care of minor injuries like this before. Hopefully, that was enough, and Cecil didn’t ask for any actual hymns.

“Soooo,” Cecil drawled. “How’s the boyfriend?”

Nico choked on air.

“Oh, come on, Will,” Cecil rolled his eyes. “You should be used to me asking by now. You know I’m nosy!”

“I, um,” Nico didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Cecil continued. “Remember when you used to talk my ear off about Nico? I can’t say I miss those days, but it’s so much harder when I have to pry for information.”

Nico was suddenly much more interested in this conversation. “I didn’t used to talk that much… did I?”

“Oh,” Cecil sat up straight, jostling his arm that Nico was trying to wrap. “Don’t even give me that. You know you did. All I heard was Nico’s so cute and he’s so strong and did you know he used to play Mythomagic? That’s adorable!” He mocked Will’s voice and practically swooned at the end. Even while blushing furiously, Nico had to hold in his laughter. He’s not surprised that Will said those things, but hearing Cecil complain about it made it even funnier.

“I did not,” Nico said indignantly like he’d heard Will do so many times. He wasn’t a good liar.

“Yes, you totally did! Must I recount the many laments of Nico’s beauty and grace?”

Nico really hoped his smile didn’t come off as mischievously as he felt. “Oh, please do.”

---

Will came by the infirmary with a plate of food toward the end of Nico’s shift. The place was empty except for Nico sweeping the floor. Will had to pause in the doorway for a second, his mind still confused when he saw himself doing the sweeping. Is that what I usually look like? But, no, probably not. Because Nico was scowling hard at the floor as he worked, which was an odd look to see on the son of Apollo’s face.

“Knock knock!” Will called out, getting his boyfriend’s attention. Nico blinked a few times at Will, probably jarred in the same way Will was upon seeing himself.

Then he scowled again. “Don’t say that in my body—I look dumb.”

Will gasped in mock offense, then twirled around with his plate of food. “I think I make you look good, Sunshine.” He winked at Nico for good measure, who in turn groaned and dropped the broom where he was.

The boys settled down at Will’s desk, Nico taking Will’s usual seat in case anyone came in. They didn’t want any questions, no matter how innocent.

“So, do you think this body swap business is almost done?” Will asked as they started eating.

Nico could only shrug. “Hopefully. A day is the average length of a curse around here, but who knows?”

Will hummed in agreement. After a few more moments of silence, he asked, “How was the infirmary today? Everything went okay?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah, only Cecil came in with some burns.” He then smirked at his boyfriend. “He also told me some stories.”

“Oh no,” Will muttered as he buried his face in his hands. “About what?” He was afraid to know the answer.

“You know, just about you… and how you used to gush over me all the time.” Nico was fully grinning now. Will didn’t know he could look so evil.

“Ugh, whyyyyy,” he groaned loudly.

“I have so much blackmail material now.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah.”

They lapsed into another brief silence before Nico piped up again. “So, did you kill anyone in my class?”

“Psh, I’ll have you know, I am an excellent teacher,” Will puffed up.

Nico raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, but your sword skills aren’t exactly up to par.”

“Well then it’s a good thing we didn’t use swords today.” Nico’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but before he could say anything, Will leapt out of his chair and struck what he probably thought was a heroic pose. “I regaled your students with tales of your bravery,” he trumpeted in a deep, dramatic voice. “While also interjecting some medical advice and emphasizing the importance of field medical knowledge.”

A beat of silence, and then, “Please don’t tell me you said it like that.”

“Just like that,” Will replied, a cheeky grin on his face.

Now it was Nico’s turn to groan, cheeks flooding red with embarrassment. “Will! I have a reputation!”

“Which I have elevated, you’re welcome.” He bowed as he returned to his seat.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

#solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #solangelo fanfic #my fanfic #my fic #fic #fanfic #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #my writing #that's all I'm doing for solangelo week 2020 #body swap #solangelo body swap #solangelo week 2020 #solangeloweek2020 #my post

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hamsterboos · 4 years ago

Text

Playing Santa for the Olympians

��Day 7 of 12 Days of PJO Christmas🎄

Percy had enough.

After the last two years of the gods messing up his Christmas breaks, he was ready to mess with them right back.

The only issue, though, was the fact that he couldn’t just go up to the 600th floor of the Empire State Building without a specific invitation, despite being involved in two Great Prophecy and saving the world twice.

But of course, that is why he forgave his father for the last two Christmas ordeals under the deal that he would help him prank the gods.

PSA: These drabbles are canon-compliant till HoO and just acknowledge the existence of Estelle. Also technology use is a thing.

Read on AO3

~~~~~

Percy was sitting on the floor in his cabin, wrapping up presents with a sparkly decorative red and green wrapping paper when Annabeth came into the room. She walked in with a bright ‘hello’ before coming over to stand behind his back.

“Hey,” he greeted, turning to look at her. It was the first time he’d seen her since breakfast because she’d been busy dealing with supervising the sparring ring, and he’d immediately holed up in his cabin to gather all the presents up and started wrapping them up properly the best he could.

She looked down at him with a bright smile, and she leaned down to brush her lips against his. He pulled away from her first, sending her a grin in return, and he watched as her eyes moved around the room to take in the roll of wrapping paper and the boxes he was surrounded by.

“Are you actually still wrapping presents?”

“Yeah, I am,” Percy confirmed, nodding. Annabeth moved to sit on his bed, crossing her legs underneath him.

“Percy, I know I’ve said that you have a talent to piss off the gods, but this...this is insane,” Annabeth spoke up incredulously. Percy looked up at his girlfriend, and he simply grinned. She rolled her eyes, and he knew she was well aware that there was nothing she could do to talk him out of this.

After the last two years of the gods messing up his Christmas breaks, he was ready to mess with them right back.

But of course, that is why he forgave his father for the last two Christmas ordeals under the deal that he would help him prank the gods.

“That’s the plan, babe. Dad’s helping me anyways, so it’s all okay.”

Annabeth sighed. “My mom’s going to kill you.”

Percy scoffed as he wrapped up a Kidz Bop CD, the gift he got for Apollo. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he’d actually, genuinely enjoy the CD.

“Oh please. I don’t have that big of a death wish. I may want to prank the gods for Christmas at their Winter Solstice meeting, but I don’t want your mother to brutally murder me. At least I know the others would hesitate before killing me long enough for me to convince them not to kill me.”

“So she’s the only one that didn’t get the prank present?”

“Yup,” he responded, holding up a small jewelry box that was next to his ankle. He rested his elbow on his knee and put his chin on his hand as he watched her open up the box. Percy had contemplated what to get his girlfriend’s mother for a really long time, but he remembered that she had liked the necklace that Annabeth had gotten for Christmas senior year of high school, so after a week of searching, he had found the perfect gift.

Once he watched Annabeth let out a soft gasp at the sight of the bracelet, he knew he made the right decision. He had bought a thin silver bracelet with a gold owl charm hanging right in the center of the bracelet. The charm looked a lot like the one on Annabeth’s necklace, and he was hoping that her mother would genuinely like it.

Of course there was a chance that the other gods would be supremely pissed off about the entire situation, but that was something to deal with later.

“Percy,” she called out with a sly smile.

“What?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He did know she loved him, and he loved her as well, but there was something off with the way she was smiling at him and the way her eyes were shining mischievously.

“Did you just match the bracelet with my necklace?”

Percy glanced down at his hands, suddenly feeling shy. “Maybe.”

“That’s so cute that you’re trying to impress my mother.”

“Well considering the fact that it’s been four years since we started dating, and she still hates me, I figured it was worth a try to bribe her into liking me.”

“Valiant effort, Perce.”

Percy huffed a laugh but turned back to wrapping the rest of the presents. He heard the bed sheets shuffle as Annabeth moved off the bed, and then she came to sit down next him, their knees brushing. She leaned into him a bit, and he welcomed the warmth she brought with her. He shifted slightly so she could easily lean on him but he could also easily continue wrapping the presents. She settled her chin on his shoulder, and they sat in silence as eventually she picked up one of the boxes and started wrapping it as well, helping him. Percy reined in a smile. He knew that despite her open judgement, she was excited to see the gods freak out at their presents.

He knew he definitely was, but suddenly a thought came to mind.

“Hey Annabeth?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I should bring Nico and Jason with us just to make sure my dear uncles don’t murder me?”

“Probably.”

“Good talk.”

~*~

An hour and half later, Percy had managed to wrangle Nico (who wouldn’t come without Will), Jason (who ended up dragging Piper), and Annabeth into coming up to Olympus with him.

They were in the elevator — the normal elevator music having changed to Jingle Bell Rock —, each person holding a stack of boxes to give to the gods, and Percy couldn’t stop vibrating. He was excited, but there was also that slight tinge of worry he felt that he was going to be immediately struck on down the spot.

If anyone asked him, though, he would immediately deny the worry.

He was the Savior of Olympus.

He was fine.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jason asked, looking at the stack of presents in his hand. He looked apprehensive, which was fair enough considering it was his and Piper’s first time going up to Olympus. Will hadn’t been up there either, but he didn’t seem all too worried.

“We go up there and just say that we’re surprising them for Christmas, and then hand out the presents.”

“What happens then?” Piper asked.

“We hope that Percy isn’t immediately murdered on the spot,” Nico responded dryly.

Percy groaned. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then why am I with you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

He had a point there.

“Because,” Percy responded, stretching out the word slightly, “I needed people to carry the presents up with me.”

Nico blinked at him a few times and sighed. “I can’t believe I liked you once upon a time.”

Annabeth snorted as Piper barked out a laugh. “I heard the story about Percy traveling with Rachel, you and Annabeth. All three of them liked him at the same time, and he was still so oblivious.”

Percy watched as Jason bit his lip in an effort to not laugh, but his shoulders were shaking, and Will simply grinned.

“How did this turn on me?!” Percy whined, looking between his friends and girlfriend.

“It took me making the first move twice before he asked me out,” Annabeth spoke up, grinning as she bumped her shoulder with his. He swatted her away with his free hand.

“I was more occupied with trying to live past sixteen!”

“And here you are at twenty, still waiting for me to make the first move.”

Percy narrowed his eyes at her and started speaking without thinking, “You certainly didn’t make the first move when we—”

“Okay! We don’t need to hear about your sex life,” Jason groaned. Annabeth blushed, and Percy just laughed. Thankfully, they were almost to the 600th floor, which saved Percy from having to reply fully.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and they walked up to Mount Olympus and into the gathering room.

The 12 Olympians and Hades were sitting in their chairs in their ten-feet tall God form, discussing something that Percy wasn’t too inclined to pay attention to. Poseidon had turned to look at him first, and his father sent him a wide smile, immediately standing up and cutting off whatever Hera was saying.

“Percy!” his father greeted, walking towards him and changing into his smaller, more human form as he walked closer.

“Hey, dad,” he greeted. He heard the other gods stop talking, now paying attention to them.

“What are you doing here?” Poseidon asked, a wild glint in his eyes. Percy tried not to laugh at the overexaggerated acting.

“We brought Christmas gifts! We knew that everyone would be here for the meeting, so we decided to play Santa and surprise you guys.”

“Oh that’s wonderful!” Aphrodite exclaimed, also walking closer in her human form. Percy tried not to glance at her too much. With the few glances that he took, he realized that she looked like his girlfriend, and he wasn’t going to lie, it was kind of messing with his brain. He was aware, though, that she made her way over to Piper.

The rest of the gods had slowly made their way over, and they all decided to try to move towards the center of the room. Percy was excited to let the gods open their presents, but he was also appreciating just how open the gods looked at their arrival. Apollo had wrapped Will up in a hug, and Zeus was awkwardly standing by Jason, both of them looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Nico was talking to Hades, and he looked over at Annabeth smiling softly at her mother.

“Is everything ready?” his father asked, bringing Percy’s attention back to the matter at hand. Percy grinned.

“Yup.”

“Alright, then. Everyone, Percy says the presents are ready to be given out,” Poseidon announced. Percy shared a quick glance with Annabeth, and she shrugged as if to say this is it, good luck.

Percy, Jason, Nico, and Will first gave the presents to their respective fathers, and they all returned to their original spots to distribute the rest of the presents as Piper and Annabeth gave the gifts to their respective mothers.

Within minutes, everyone had their presents, and at first, the gods looked at the Big Three, waiting for them to open them first. Percy bit his lip to prevent any preemptive laughter escaping him as they opened the presents. Poseidon had promised to be fine with whatever present he got as long as it wasn’t good to make sure he wouldn’t get caught as being in on the plan.

Zeus opened his long, thin wrapped box first, and he paused as he pulled out an incandescent tube light with the words LIGHTNING ROD scribbled over it.

His father opened his gift only for him to pull out a pack of Korean seaweed, and Hades just paused when he took out an anatomical skeleton with a pack of chocolate pomegranate seeds with a post-it note that read For Persephone.

“What is the meaning of this, Jackson?” Zeus boomed, and Percy quickly glanced down, trying not to laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friends also all shaking with the effort to stay quiet and for the first time he was glad that none of them had seen what he had bought because their reactions were absolutely hilarious.

Noticing that those three gifts were clearly prank gifts, the other gods quickly opened theirs. Hera was given a Ken doll wearing a tux and a Barbie doll wearing a wedding dress, clearly for playing house. Ares was given a stick with a note that explained that it was a weapon, and Percy watched as he immediately just flung it across the room, the stick hitting a wall and falling to the ground. Hermes opened his to find a glitter explosion as he pulled out fake fairy wings with so much glitter that it was flying everywhere. He just grinned, though, laughing at the prank. He winked at Percy, clearly pleased by the idea and the execution.

Aphrodite gasped in outrage when she opened hers to find a makeup palette for kids with the most boring colors that he could find while Hephaestus groaned in confusion when he opened his to find an Easy Bake Oven.

“Percy Jackson!” screamed out Dionysus as he pulled out a bottle of grape juice with the words WINE scribbled over the original label, and that must’ve been the only time in the last year that he had called Percy by his real name.

Artemis snorted when she saw that she was holding a Rudolph plush with a small card that read “It’s nice that they made one of your deer hunters a plush,” and Apollo happily pulled out his Kidz Bop CD, rushing to find a speaker to play it with. Finally, Demeter groaned as she opened hers up to find a Costco size package of Wheat Thins.

They all, except Hermes, Artemis, and Apollo, looked absolutely appalled at their gifts, and Percy had to admit that his father had gotten better at acting. Athena was the only one who hadn’t received her gift yet, and that was only because Percy didn’t want to make it such a big deal at the moment, and he was hoping that the goddess would see the present in his hands and would wait till later to ask about it.

“Care to explain yourself, Jackson?” Hades hissed just as the Kidz Bop CD started playing a cover of Oops...I Did It Again. That was the breaking point for the demi-gods because Percy and his friends doubled over with laughter, even Nico. Percy couldn’t believe how perfect the prank ended up working, and he sincerely wished that he had a camera to record the entire thing.

“Man, everytime Annabeth said that Percy had a gift for ticking off the gods, I didn’t realize she meant that literally,” Piper gasped, leaning against Will. “Percy, I don’t need anything from you this Christmas. This was enough of a gift.”

“Gods, that was priceless,” Will responded. Percy looked up at the gods again, and most of them had realized that it was kind of funny because their lips were twitching.

“How dare you,” Zeus complained, moving towards Percy (probably to strangle him), but Poseidon stepped forward.

“Brother, it’s Christmas. Let it go. Besides, your room could use some lighting.”

Zeus growled at Poseidon, but backed off regardless.

“There better not be a next time, Jackson,” Hades warned, and Percy saluted in response, his cheeks hurting from the laughter. The gods started breaking up, speaking to one another and his friends went to talk to them as well, taking the chance to reconnect with their parents.

Percy and Annabeth made their way over to Athena in the meantime who had simply been standing off to the side, watching.

“I assume my present isn’t a prank?” she asked once they got closer.

“Uh, no,” Percy responded. “I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“You were scared.” It wasn’t a question, and Percy didn’t feel like responding so he simply handed her the present with Annabeth quietly watching.

She took the present and opened it slowly.

“It’s a bracelet matching the necklace you got my daughter,” she spoke, lifting it up slowly and looking at the necklace around Annabeth’s neck. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, Athena.”

“You...are not as bad as I thought.”

Annabeth smiled at Percy, and he beamed, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Thank you.”

Percy was surprised at how well everything had gone because usually, things didn’t go his way.

Until Apollo cried from across the room.

“How come she got a proper present?!”

“What?” Aphrodite cried.

“Percy!” Poseidon exclaimed. Percy winced; he hadn’t told his father about that part of his plan.

“Woops?”

~~~~~~~

This is the last of the Christmas with the Gods plotline for the 12 days! I’ve really enjoyed writing these haha

Day 1 || Day 2 || Day 3 || Day 4 || Day 5 || Day 6

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #the olympians show up #percy is a lil shit #12 days of christmas #12 days of pjo christmas

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kandadiff · 3 years ago

Text

Runnin' with the Devil 1

You watched your husband from your place on the couch and pulled your legs into your body in an attempt to warm them, your mind wandering to just a year ago. Where you were in the warm arms of Jay Park, spoiled with champagne and as much sweet things as you could fill yourself with. But now . 'Nothing like how it used to be,' You thought. You missed Jay, he made you laugh, not that you did much of that these days. How could you? When you were in the same house with your biggest enemy?

Your eyes wandered over to the massive ring that stood out on your finger, making your hand look even smaller then it already was. The huge diamond complimented by the other diamonds that rounded the rock, gold encasing their holding and a small red dragon engraved within the main diamond. It was no mistake what this ring truly symbolized. You belonged to him now, The Red Dragons and the Kwon Family.

Your mind floated to when the Red Dragon rescued you from the Brotherhood. You were with Jay on his arm at one of his lavish parties that he threw every year to keep the peace between the families that ran the state. Except instead of the night being filled with the sound of laughter from to much drinks and music from the DJ, it was swollen with blood and gun shots. At first it was Jay that grabbed you when he heard the first gun shot ring out into the air made by some hired man. He pushed you to his second in command, Jackson, and you were with Jackson for a long time until a bullet went through his chest and your face became streaked red. Another Brotherhood member, Chan Bang, grabbed you and seemed to bring you toward the masked intruders who in shock all you could do was watch as they shot down people like it was a sport. Most of them laughing as they did so. You fought against Chan, but maybe it was the excessive alcohol your drank that made you unable to get out of his iron grip or the fear of being next. One of Chan's close friends, Hyungjin brought Min and Suzy, a short bubbly girl and a baby faced angel of a girl who were dating another brotherhood member, and you watched as the masked man shoot both of them point blank as they begged for there life before he pointed the gun at you.

yA pop rang out in the air and instead of you going into the pile of bodies with Min and Suzy, it was the masked man. POP! Another one shot down Chan, you came loose from his grip as he fell into the piles. However before you could run the shooter grabbed you. "Let's go!" his voice was rough but his touch was gentle yet urgent. He led you through the ballroom avoiding the gunshots with skill, as though he was trained for this his entire life. You knew who he was, everyone did. Jiyong Kwon, son of YoungHwan Kwon leader of the Red Dragon's and next to take over. Once you were outside he rushed you into a car and drove as fast as he can while cops sped past him heading to the bloody scene which would later be called THE BALLROOM MASSACRE.

He brought you back to his lavish penthouse and brought a doctor (thats how you reconnected with me) to check on you and him. Physically, you were unhurt minus a few scratches but mentally- you were not. He suggested you stay with him for a few days until everything cooled down. And during that time, the news of the event, soiled your mind more and more everyday as more and more bodies were counted as dead. People you knew, people who you laughed with, cried with, loved. Gone. No news of what happened to Jay - you presumed he was dead. Only seeing Jackson on the TV, beat up and on crutches. Through all that Jiyong was there for you, one drunken night bringing you close, spilling secrets to each other with the only witness the fire that burned in the fireplace as you drank. Those few days turned into months and soon you found yourself in love with the man especially when he drafted another peace treaty with the other mafia families and excited those who killed at the Ballroom Massacre.

Which is how you ended up with two children babbling upstairs. You aren't sure how you became pregnant - not at first at least. You were careful or at least you thought you were. You used condoms, even had an IUD. But one day you were feeling nauseous and bloated and tender and he suggested going to the doctor. He made me come to the house and take blood, a few minutes later you found you were pregnant. And though Jiyong tried to hide it, we argued or were cold with each other every time we saw each other. 7 months later you gave birth to Anastasia Min-Lee Kwon and Apollo Taehyun Kwon and you were married at a huge ceremony in the city that was more protected then the royal family. But like all good things, that too must come to an end and thats when your life, which seemed to be going to well fell apart in your hands.

"About" stomach turned as you thought about that day only a week and a half ago. You sat in my house, a smaller less extravagant house then yours however the garden that surrounded it was a perfect place to sit. A gazebo gifted to us by Jiyong after I helped you after the massacre, is where we sat. Eating at the small table watching while, Marceline and Salem played with the babies, your nannies enjoying that they are getting a quick break in this picturesque area.

You smiled hearing the sound of your babies laughing, happy to hear it without your father in law interrupting the noise, you were about to comment on it when I interrupted your thoughts. "I wish I could have protected them better." Your eyebrow raised at the serious of my tone but before you could ask I spoke again "with Marcie mostly," I clarified "Salem - he doesn't know all that Marceline knows." I hadn't really gotten into what happened in the past before I showed up back in this town. But I left with a man named Negan and came back with a little girl and a friendship with Mr. YoungHwan Kwon and a body guard only known to you as Suga.

You weren't sure what to say so you said "We do all we can, you know. You're a good mother." You looked at me concerned seeing something clearly on my mind. "Whats wrong?"

"I'm sorry, adi." Confused you just looked at me waiting for me to explain. "I wished I could have protected you too."

Your mind flicked to the bloody mess of that night and you shook your head, in an attempt to stop thinking about it. "You couldn't have known, you weren't even there."

"I wished that I could have protected you from Jiyong," I said and your mind swirled in even more confusion. "I should have warned you when he took you from Jay. But I didn't want to believe he would do that- I was so stupid. Yoongi told me but I didn't believe him. Then when you got pregnant- Yoongi and me were trying to have Sunday. He was so happy when he first held him, I don't think ive ever seen him happier. The smile didn't leave his face for weeks and even now every time he speaks about the kids his face still lights up the same way it did all those years ago. He even tattooed there names on his chest, that was the first thing he did out of the hospital. I saw the same thing in Taeyang when he had his son, and in Bom and her husband; just pure unfiltered joy." You raised an eyebrow about to ask what that had to do with anything when I looked at you. "When I Jiyong told me you were pregnant, that look - wasn't there. It was something else; something darker, like he had just accomplished his master plan. Then I remembered you told me you had an IUD and you wore condoms. So after I took your blood, I went into your bedroom and searched until I found the condoms and went to the sink. I filled all of them with water and each one had holes in it. I told Yoongi about it and he questioned the other doctor on Jiyong's payroll - after about an hour with Yoongi he admitted to drugging your wine and taking it out."

Your heart sunk, no, your husband wouldn't do that to you. I was mistaken - it had to be some kind of joke. You shook your head but I nodded.

"Its true." I said "and he found out I knew, thats when you caught us arguing. He knew after getting you knocked up, you'd marry him. He pretended he was the perfect husband so why wouldn't you?" You looked down at your ring instantly feeling nauseous.

"Why didn't you say something?!" you shouted bitterly catching the attention of the nannies. I waved at them to continue and told you to stay quiet. "Why should I?!"

"Because he's listening." I said motioning to the ladies. One of them carried a small device pinned to her chest, it was supposed to be just a pin but I knew what they were. A little transmitter like Negan used to use.

You're heart beat fast in your chest and you forced yourself to be quieter. "why didn't you tell me?" I motioned once again to the kids. "Oh please, Jiyong wouldn't kill kids." I sighed and unfolded a small series of pictures. There you saw pictures - candid shots of mine and Yoongi's small family, shopping, eating, taking them to school along with a phone number written in Jiyong's district handwriting along with the words 'Keep my secret and ill keep yours'. "What does this mean? who's phone number is this?"

"Negan's." I said simply and before you can ask why can't he know I stopped you. "I didn't just leave Negan. I escaped from him, he wouldn't let me leave and he killed everyone who tried to help me or talk to me. His entire fucking compound is decorated with the body parts of people I used to be friends with. He wanted me to rely on him and only him. He wouldn't even let me out with Marcie without him. When I left he told me he'd kill Marceline in front of me if I didn't come back to him. For the next week he killed a woman every single day, just cause they sort of looked like me. The day I got out of that town he killed a woman and her son because he thought it was me and Marcie in disguise, the little boy was only 4 years old and he shot him in front of his mother and strung her up on a tree in the park. Imagine what he would do to them" I looked at the laughing children, "or Yoongi, I know if I ever see Negan again I'm dead but I'm not going to let him find out about anyone else."

For a while you were silent, sitting in the news that shattered your view of your once perfect family. "Why now?" You asked after a while.

"We're leaving - it's the only safe option and I want you to come with us. Take your children and come with us. You aren't safe there." I said and you let out a shaky sigh "Yoongi is the best at disappearing; we'll be untraceable." You heard the nannies in the distance telling the kids its time to go inside and I stood up. You eyes wandered to the children running towards you while the nannies, wheeled the baby carriages over towards us.

"Mommy!" Marceline shouted holding up a handful of flowers "Look!" The nannies approached at a quick speed, to quick for your liking; if you were going to meet me, how were your going to know where?

"Look like its time to go Mrs. Kwon" one of them said to you "Mr. Kwon is calling."

"Good;" I smiled acting as though I didn't drop that bomb on you. "Have a good trip home," I lifted your twins out of there carriage and kissed each on the cheek. "say goodbye to your aunt." My children wrapped there small arms around your legs shoving flowers into your hands and pockets, causing you to laugh and hug each of them. I hugged you tight and picked up a flower that fell from your pocket and put it in your hand where you felt the soft piece of paper wrapped smoothly around the stem. "I hope to see you soon."

Now a week and a half later you still had the piece of paper buried in the small flap under the felt of your jewelry box watching as Jiyong laughed with TOP at a show they were both watching wondering how your life got so fucked up.

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vanaera · 5 years ago

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Love at First Snow (jhs)

Synopsis | It is during the first snow Hoseok first meets Y/N. It is also during the first snow he prepares to put a ring on her. Little does he know, fate has other plans. (OR: As Hoseok relishes in the spirit of the Holiday season, he cannot help but also reminisce how you two, though entire polar opposites of each other, ended up together. Characters | dance major (and “academically-challenged”)!Hoseok x Genius!female reader (College AU) Prompt | “You know, you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Genre | Fluff, Humor, Angst Wordcount | 16.9k (I’m sorry, this ended up longer than I intended) Warnings | Discussions of verbal abuse from toxic families and mentions of panic attacks A/N | Hi Cristine! It is I, snowflake, your secret santa! This is my gift for @bts-poetry for @bangtanarmynet, and @btsbookclub ‘s Secret Santa 2019 event! I combined this gift with the prompt I claimed in @kwritersworld’s 2019 Christmas Event as my inspirations for both events have merged into one story hehe.

Everyone has some titles to live by. “Well-versed lawyer,” “patient teacher,” “single mother,” “broke student”—one-liner characteristics and descriptions enough for people to summarize the entirety of one another. From each other’s greatest achievements to their itty bitty mistakes, any of them can be used to replace an identifier. After all, people always see what they want to see. It all depends on what title sticks out the most to the majority around them. For Jung Hoseok, he lives up to the title of a lovable boyfriend and a rare one, too. As whenever people look at him, the first thing they see is the aberrance of how he ended up….dating Y/N.

There’s nothing wrong with him, or Y/N for that matter. It’s just…they are the most impossible couple to end up together as they are the most literal polar opposites of each other.

People remember Jung Hoseok as the golden dance major of the prestigious South Tigers University. He got into the Performing Arts program, Major in Dance by acing the laborious dance audition despite his unimpressive results in the written exam. Hoseok’s colorful background from his long-term dance crew, Hope World, and his countless wins in different hip hop dance competitions were more than enough proof to know he is indeed one of the top dancers of the university. With a body capable of executing each move ever known to humankind with such grace and precision, Jung Hoseok also has a stage presence that warrants everyone’s unbridled attention. Thus, it is without question he is the prided Most Valuable Dancer of his university’s varsity dance crew, Synergy. The long line-up of trophies Synergy has placed in STU’s hall of glory, all thanks to the competitions Hoseok led, are enough to say Hoseok is literally the modern-day Apollo.

However, it is not just his talent or insanely god-like face and physique that makes Hoseok so “golden.” Because as if Apollo wasn’t enough, Hoseok also impersonated Helios. Jung, Hoseok is warm and kind and funny. He easily makes everyone want to be his bestfriend the moment they met him. Most people often speak of him first thing in the morning with another wonderful feat he pulled off. Hoseok is great in the things he does — playing as the great wingman for people who need the extra push in their romances or becoming the occasional teacher’s pet who goes to the professor and (easily) successfully convinces them to give the class a deadline extension for a requirement. Hoseok turns up every campus party into the happiest event anyone could ever be in and he is such an amazing, sincere friend who remembers everyone’s birthday and gives out the nicest of hugs. Hell, Hoseok even volunteers in long-inactive “dead” college organizations like the Campus Drunk Patrol, Environment Protection Squad, and Animal Welfare Group in his free time. Hoseok is the literal sun and anyone who knows him — which is literally, everyone — will never be unable to deny otherwise.

So when Hoseok expressed romantic interest in Y/N in sophomore year, everyone around him was beyond bewildered. Most especially, his friends.

“Y/N?” Jimin sputters, “as in…The Y/N, L/N from our batch?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Like the Analytical Physics major Y/N L/N?” Taehyung gapes.

“Yeah, I mean,” Hoseok sends them a questioning look, “is there any other Y/N L/N?”

Taehyung scratches his head. “Well, no…I just thought there’s a Y/N in another batch?”

Hoseok gives him a pointed look, unamused.

But Taehyung’s true sentiment is voiced out when Jimin half-screams at their table, “Why her?!”

“Well, why not her?” Hoseok half-smiles, picking on the fries that were dropped scattered onto the table after Jimin unceremoniously pounded his fist on the surface in an act of over-exaggeration.

Taehyung sends Hoseok a disgusted look but continues his friend’s argument, “Dude, she’s like, the entire opposite of you.”

“And that is an understatement.” Jimin points a fry toward his direction, glaring at Hoseok.

Hoseok huffs, “Oh c'mon, you’re all just going overboard. What happened to the golden rule ‘don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

“First of all, Y/N’s not a book,” Jimin scoffs. “She’s like, the whole fucking library of science textbooks. Last sem, we’re busy doing a group project when Y/N suddenly spewed some SOHCAHTOA shit about the Bermuda Triangle. As if the things she said are already a whole level of weird, she even said them in a manner like Liam Neeson’s ‘I don’t know who you are but I’m going to kill you’ monologue from Taken. And second of all, the golden rule is ‘do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you,’ dumbass.”

“Okay I got the golden rule wrong,” Hoseok groans, “but nevertheless, you’re still violating it by judging Y/N.”

“In our defense tho,” Taehyung mumbles over the straw of his milkshake, “Y/N judged us first. I was watching Orange one time in the library and she came over and took a seat with me. And then she said some alien gibberish about how Naho Takamiya always fall stupidly on the stairs because she said, by verbatim, ‘according to basic logic and common sense, that’s not how projectiles work,’” Taehyung clicks his tongue and Jimin cringes. Taehyung continues, “Y/N said Naho wouldn’t fly to the hallway when she tripped on the actual steps. She even actually drew a diagram with computations of Naho’s fall and gave it to me before she abruptly got up and go. God, I’ve never felt so stupid and insulted both at the same time.”

“And,” Jimin adds, “last December, I shared a meme on Facebook about turning on your brain instead of your heart this coming 2017 and guess what she did? She commented below “guess, you’ll just die of heart failure before 2017 even comes.” Jimin rolls his eyes, “She made me feel dumb as if I don’t know how heart failure works. So us judging her back is just fair and square.”

“But you don’t actually know how heart failure works,” Hoseok retorts. He glares at Taehyung, “And dude, to be honest, Orange is overrated and Naho really flies whenever she trips, or gets tripped, on the stairs.” Hoseok throws up his hands in annoyance. “Seriously, are you two judging her for just…I don’t know, being smart?!”

Taehyung sighs. “Okay, that’s a bit true, but the thing is, Hobi, our IQ levels are already a bit higher than yours—”

“What’s that got to do with this?!”

“—And if Y/N’s already treating us like the biggest idiots of the world,” Jimin continues Taehyung’s words, “then what chance do you have in having a decent conversation with her? Much less a more fruitful one that could end up in a romantic relationship? There’s like a 99.9 percent sure-ness she will make you more of an idiot than us!”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods. “Her thoughts are composed of quadratic formulas and science shit like ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.’ While I’m not even sure you know what DNA stands for.”

Hoseok gawks, “Of course I know what DNA stands for!”

“Then say it,” Jimin cocks a brow.

“Dual Nucleus Association—fuck, why am I even doing this—” Hoseok glares at his friends, “What do you take me for? An imbecile?”

“Well, yeah,” Taehyung says honestly.

“That’s why right now, we’re telling you to drop anything you’re feeling in that,” Jimin points to Hoseok’s chest, “for Y/N. Hell, how will you even click together? Y/N’s allergic to nonsense and emojis and your daily vocabulary is entirely nonsense and eggplant emojis.”

Hoseok opens his mouth to argue he also knows about the clown emoji but before he can utter a word, Taehyung beats him to it.

“Dude, we’re not telling you this to insult you.” Jimin snorts and Taehyung closes his eyes before he looks again at Hoseok’s eyes, “Okay, maybe we’re enjoying teasing you a little too much. But we can say this is just payback for you not letting us go home earlier yesterday because you said we ‘need improvement’ which I damn well think not, bitch.” Hoseok squirms and Taehyung claps his shoulder hard, making him wince. “Anyway, what we’re trying to say, Hoseok, is we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“How will I get hurt?! Nothing’s happened yet. I’m just saying I like Y/N—”

“That’s what we’re worried about, Hoseok,” Jimin cuts him. “Nothing’s happened yet but we know something already did.”

“Like what?”

“You like Y/N. That’s the problem,” Jimin deadpans. “Hoseok we know you like to take relationships seriously. We even know that when you set your heart on a girl, your imagination is already two steps ahead, playing your wedding in your head.”

Hoseok gulps, a guilty sweat forming on his temple.

“But you see, Y/N belongs to that type of people who have their what-will-you-be-in-10-years solidly planted in their heads. And it’s highly probable a relationship, much less a wedding, is written in those 10-year plans. Much more, art majors like us are stigmatized to bound for failure because society is still close-minded and deems art won’t feed us. And by the meaning of society, it’s the ‘almighty and noble’ science folks Y/N belongs to. For God’s sake, there’s a lot of movies that have already forecasted science and art don’t mix!”

“Well, I don’t remember any movies—”

Taehyung looks at Hoseok, incredulous. “Dude, there’s like The Theory of Everything—”

“That’s science and faith!”

“Stephen Hawking’s ex-wife sang in a choir. And she also started writing after their divorce! So that’s still art!”

Hoseok was about to retaliate when he feels Jimin clasp a firm hand on his shoulder. He looks at him. Jimin sighs, “Hoseok, we just want you to not regret your decisions in the end. Y/N belongs to those snobbish high-hat people who treat everyone below them like dirt. There’s plenty of other girls out there who are much nicer than Y/N. Nice just like you. For one, why don’t you try giving a chance to the girls who’ve been crushing on you since freshman year? I know a few and they’re actually sweet. Just anyone who’s not Y/N. Seriously, just trust us on this, Hobi.”

Except Hoseok does not. If there is one characteristic to describe Hoseok other than nice and talented, that would be his hard-headedness. He didn’t listen to his parents when they tried to discourage him from taking dance as his major. Hoseok disregarded numerous peers’ suggestions to join a frat so he can “shine more.” He even disregarded the toxic masculinity fraternities promoted by rocking pink overalls with his sparkly ugly sneakers and multicolored acorn pouch (which Jimin told him was the bane of the entire fashion industry) at least once a week. He even changes it up with other colorful ensembles the fashion students make. Hoseok did not even listen to Taehyung when the former told him not to drink before taking their finals in World History because, "no Hoseok, the alcohol does NOT bring back memories.”

And look where his stubbornness got him. Hoseok became one of the greatest dancers his university has ever handled. His sole talent is enough for him to get invited to teach classes in several prestigious art colleges in the country. Hoseok gained more fulfilling and growth-inspiring friendships than surface-level ones offered by frats. He enjoyed more substantial conversations than booze temptation and toxic, trivial fights over games and girls. Hoseok even accidentally created a modeling career with local brands after his viral modeling of a peach acorn-inspired outfit for the project of his fashion major friends. Although him disregarding Taehyung’s reminders was a big mistake as he totally flunked World History, that night actually made Hoseok learn his lesson not to drink before the finals (and also because he learned the alcohol does not bring back memories he actually needed for the exam. But memories of his most embarrassing moments — like the one where he ended up performing in a children’s party as a fairy godmother—complete with the rainbow gown, fairy wings, plastic crown, and wand—because he mixed up the location of the college’s Halloween party with his friend’s family get-together).

So, why would Hoseok listen to Jimin and Taehyung when setting his eyes and heart for Y/N feels like the most right decision he has ever made in his life? Especially when Y/N’s nowhere the high-hat snobbiety concept Jimin put her in. Hoseok is sure about this because he started to see and know her more than anyone else could after the fateful night of the Science Majors’ last year’s Christmas party.

“Is that Y/N?” Hoseok squints his eyes. The person walking towards him is clad in a black coat and indigo satin slip-dress that falls short on her mid-thigh. Her hair is a mess and her small glittery satchel is slipping off her shoulders even if she adjusted it again and again. Not to say she’s also limping on her two-inch silver heels. When the girl raises her head and sees him, her face falls into an annoyed scowl. Hoseok right then confirms it is aberrantly, and shockingly, Y/N. At the sight of recognition in his face, Y/N immediately runs away in the opposite direction. Hoseok finds himself already chasing after her before his mind could acknowledge that he is actually running after the campus’ excruciating goody-two-shoes in the ass'o clock of the night.

Hoseok easily catches up to Y/N. He blocks her way, causing her to halt. Hoseok hunches as he breathlessly puffs, “Hey Y/N, why you so fast?”

“No-none of your business Jung Hoseok,” Y/N turns away from him and crosses her arms. Hoseok almost smiles. It is amusing how she effortlessly pulls her usual “intimidator stance” even in such a weird scenario.

“Well, it is my business if you’re wandering on campus grounds in the night and obviously not sober.”

Y/N whips her head towards him, “I am sober. What are you even here for?”

“According to my eyes, you’re clearly drunk. Look,” Hoseok points to her face, “you look red all over and you can’t even look at me straight.”

Y/N slaps his hand away.

Hoseok puts his hands back in his pockets, “You’re clearly doing some beautiful eyes challenge right now.”

Y/N cringes at him but Hoseok continues, “And for your second question, I’m patrolling for the Campus Drunk Patrol.” He smiles and points to the logo on his jacket.

Y/N leans forward and squints at the logo. Seeing her raised brow, Hoseok explains, “We aim to help drunk students sober up before commuting home. We can also escort them to their dorm facades and notify their RAs to come and get them.”

Y/N still has her brow raised, skeptical. Hoseok sighs, “Well, it’s a dead org so I understand why you don’t believe me. If I also learn some org that’s been inactive for five years has suddenly gone active, I will be skeptical, too. But trust me on this, okay? I’ll just walk you around until you’re sober enough to know how to go home. I heard you’re dorming here. I can help you get to your dorm if you want.”

Y/N still looks unconvinced and Hoseok releases a sigh again. He juts his thumb and points to his back, “We have our Patrol Marshal stationed there by the campus gates. He can totes see us here and tell you’re one of the stubborn drunk students who refuse to cooperate with our protocol.”

Hoseok smugly puts his weight on his left foot.“You can refuse and go ahead. But because the marshal doesn’t let drunk people he already caught go home, he will notify the head RA and trust me when I tell you I’ve seen a lot of students end up in bigger trouble for not complying with our joint protocol with the RA Council. Or,” Hoseok smiles, “you could just make our lives easier by letting me help you sober up.”

Y/N looks away, gnawing on her lip. When Hoseok hears a faint “fine” come from her, he has to keep his jaw from hanging open.

Because, why wouldn’t he be flabbergasted?

Y/N L/N, the fearsome Analytical Physics major, is not the sweetest star out there. With a resting bitch face, innateness to give cold replies, gift of the perpetual judging stare, and insensitivity to joke cues, Y/N is one of the hardest people to cooperate with. It is not entirely because she does not put in any effort. No one just found it easy, or tolerable even, to interact with her. Sure, Y/N’s smart, a genius in Hoseok’s eyes. However, what stuck to everyone’s memory is how she unconsciously belittles everyone around her. Y/N gives out unnecessary run-throughs of chemistry concepts about any movie or animation brought up in a conversation. She instantly goes grammar-nazzi on anyone who slips on the rules of English grammar, especially when people make errors concerning the Oxford comma in their papers. She even goes out of her way to explain to her fellow students the physics of how and why they drove or parked badly with their bike or scooter.

But the pinnacle of Y/N’s negative reputation has to be her merciless removal of her senior’s name, Oh Sehun, from the case study required in Communication Media Theories. In her very first year in university, at that. Although her action is justified as Sehun did not contribute anything at all in the group project, this name removal caused outrage among every college student. Sehun, who is actually the college’s renowned quarterback, graduated late and was now behind of his original team who already got into the professionals. All because of Y/N. Hence, the people in the university have started to associate her name with the title “stuck-up-iest bitch to ever walk on Earth.” Some don’t even seem to remember her name. All everyone knew is that Y/N’s one hell of a condescending bitch.

So having Y/N walk silently by his side, cooperating for the first time without reciting her rights based on the constitution with such accuracy in verbatim while passively and implicitly insulting him, Hoseok cannot help to be so shocked.

Noticing the complete silence that has surrounded them two, Hoseok breaks from his trance and leads Y/N to the college’s cafe. It’s already closed, given the lateness of the night, but it has their outdoor metal chairs set-up outside. He lets Y/N plop down on one of the metal seats as he produces a coffee-in-can for her.

“Do you just casually carry around canned coffees with you?”

“No, just when I am on duty for the patrols. Caffeine is the best way to help people sober up fast.” Hoseok inserts an edible straw for her and she grabs the drink.

“I don’t think so,” Y/N mutters, “Human body processes consumed alcohol on its own, thus, it’s processing speed is neither affected nor aided by any exterior substances. With this, there’s no such actual thing as 'sobering up fast.’ It just feels like that because caffeine is a stimulant and hence, counters the sedative effect of alcohol, making you feel alert and appear to be sober.” Y/N takes another sip, “Nevertheless, thanks for the free coffee.”

Hoseok almost gapes. The people were not kidding about how Y/N casually spouts science shit wherever she goes. Although he’s supposed to get tipped off, Hoseok just finds this set-up oddly amusing. He leans forward in his seat and props up his arm on the table to cup his face. “Anyway, why are you out in the late of the night?”

Y/N gives him an unamused look, “Because I was obviously partying. Is there any other party in the campus right now than the Science Majors’ Christmas party?”

“You’re right,” Hoseok chuckles, “but what I mean is, why are you already outside? The party doesn’t end 'til 2 A.M.”

“I just decided I want to go home.”

“Why?”

Y/N drops her drink on the table, “Are you just gonna ask me 'why’ everytime?!”

Hoseok tilts his head and smiles, “Talking with drunk people is part of our protocol in sobering up. So, yeah, I’m gonna ask why every time until the redness on your nose and cheeks subsides a little.”

“Fine,” Y/N hisses. She gives Hoseok a steely glare, “This night is the first time I’ve done something so stupid such as going to a party in an attempt to expand my connections. It turns out everyone still irrationally hates me about Oh Sehun’s name removal and they refused to interact with me. They kept sending me glares while I just pathetically stood in the corner of the room for the duration of the party, dumbly holding a cup of some alcoholic drink I just realized 30 minutes ago was what you call ‘spiked.’ These pretty heels I wore hurt my ankles and toes all for nothing.” Y/N covers her face with her palms, “God, I don’t even know why I’m opening up about these things with you when it’s just the first time I talked with you. Maybe it’s just because I’m just drunk, god, it’s so stupid–”

“It’s not stupid,” Hoseok interjects and Y/N raises her head from her hands. Hoseok smiles, “When there’s too much alcohol in our system, we get to do stuff we never knew we can. And sometimes, they are things we really desire to do but dare not let out in the open, afraid of what others may think. And it may come off as stupid as you’re letting your heart do the talking instead of your brain. But you know what? You have to be stupid sometimes to acknowledge what your brain may be missing out on. Plus,” Hoseok stretches open his arms wide, “there’s just the two of us here so no one can really judge you because hey, I’m just all ears here. After all, I’m just an officer of the Campus Drunk Patrol helping you sober up.” At the sight of Y/N’s pursed lips and eyes set on the coffee beside her, looking as if she’s convinced (and it looks like it’s not like her to admit it), Hoseok smiles wider and leans forward. “Now, back to your story. Why did you decide to go to a party?”

“Because,” Y/N sighs, “I don’t know, @keanu_reeves_is_the_real_daddy from Hoboken said in Reddit that going to parties is a great opportunity to make friends.” Y/N looks down at her hands and interlocks them, “I’m just–I’m just desperate to get some friends. I’m already in second year, and still, no one wants to be with me. I often talk about how I don’t care whether people like me or not. Most of the time, I really do not care at all. But sometimes...it also gets lonely when you feel everyone seems to hate you.”

“Well, I’m not everyone.”

Y/N looks up at him, frowning, “That’s a great joke, Hoseok. I saw you hanging with Jimin just yesterday and I heard my name as the subject and "stick-in-the-ass bitch” as the predicate in a couple of sentences.“

"Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but it was just Jimin who talked bad about you. Did you hear me say your name and 'stick-in-the-ass’ in one sentence?”

Y/N glares at him. She then rips her gaze away from him to set them back on her interlocked fingers. “What are you trying to imply, Hoseok?”

"I’m trying to imply, if you want to have a friend, I’m willing to be one.”

"But you already got lots of friends.”

Hoseok smiles, “That doesn’t mean I have no room left for one more.”

Y/N gives him that skeptic look again and Hoseok snorts. “Hey, I’m being serious here. I really want to be your friend if you’d like. And no, it’s not because I pity you.”

Y/N raises a brow at him in disbelief and Hoseok purses his lips. He raises his hands in surrender, “Ooohkay, maybe like 0.001 percent I do, but 99.999 percent I just don’t like how everyone hates you for something that is not actually your fault. I really want to get to know you if you’d let me.”

Y/N just stares at him and Hoseok, for the first time in his life save for the days he’s answering written exams, has literally no idea what to do. Is Y/N angry at him for blurting out those things? Or is she aggravated he seemed plastic? But Hoseok knows he meant every single thing he said because first and foremost, he cannot lie even if he wanted to. He’s a goddamn horrible liar that anyone will know he’s lying before he can even start to lie. Second, he always says the first thing that comes to his mind because, in the majority of his life, he is incapable of thinking first before doing something. And third, Hoseok really meant what he said. He’s always been curious about Y/N. Jimin and Taehyung always talk ill about her and from the numerous negative shits he hears from them, he can’t help but think that maybe, her reputation is just one big hell of a rumor. It’s just impossible that so many rumors and negative comments about someone who he rarely sees outside the university, to be true.

Hoseok knows because he also has his fair share of rumors he has struggled to disprove. Like how he “cheated” in dance contests because no one can’t believe someone is just so exceptionally talented that they can win every single competition they join. Or how he “slept around” with almost half of the female population in the university just because he has lots of female friends and he loves to joke around with eggplant and saliva emojis in his texts. It’s hard to be contained in such one definitive title, much more a heavily negative one. Hoseok knew what it felt and it feels it’s just wrong to stay as a standbyer while the entire university jeers on Y/N for such a trivial reason.

“Do-do you really mean that?”

Hoseok looks at Y/N and nods. “Yes, I do.”

Something wet drops on his jacket and Hoseok looks up at the sky. The sky is pitch black, save for the white inklets dotting the atmosphere, lightening up the dark horizon along with the glow of sparkling snowflakes. He turns to Y/N and smiles, “Oh look, it’s the first snow.”

Y/N returns his smile this time. She tells him she wants to stay for ten more minutes to appreciate the snow before going home. Hoseok grins at her and says he’s got enough time to spare before his duty ends.

The next day, Y/N’s frowning at Hoseok as the latter awkwardly holds his lunch tray next to her table.

“Uhhh, aren’t you standing by the wrong table? Your friends sit over there.”

“No,” Hoseok quips. “Jimin and Taehyung are not seated anywhere here because their lunches are scheduled way later today. And, this, in my opinion,” Hoseok scoots to Y/N’s side and sits down beside her, “is the perfect table.” Hoseok digs in his lunch and grins at her, “You should probably start eating now, too, y'know? Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“I–” Y/N bites her lip and look away before she refocuses a glare at his face, “Are you really taking seriously your joke last night?”

“It’s not a joke,” Hoseok retorts, dropping his utensils. “I’m serious about everything I said."

"But I didn’t mean mine. I’m drunk, remember?”

“If you really didn’t mean them,” Hoseok looks at her, “then you can just tell me to leave. I’ll do whatever you say.”

Y/N stares at him, brows scrunched together as if conflicted. She looks down on her hands on her lap and sighs, “I…don’t really want you to…leave. I’m sorry, I just…thought you’re just playing with me. You know all of this is still new to me. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Hoseok chuckles, “no need to be so serious. We can take things slowly as long as you’d like.” Y/N pulls up a small smile and Hoseok grins. “Let’s finish our lunches and then we can look at memes. Memes are essential building blocks in friendships.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Taehyung and I became friends after we accidentally sent each other hilarious anti-government blinking man memes.”

It is needless to say the entire university goes berserk later when they find Y/N, the campus bitch, and Hoseok, the university’s sunshine boy, guffawing over chemistry memes during lunch. Hoseok does not understand a thing, but he enjoys laughing with Y/N as she passionately explains to him each concept and why they are funny.

It is true that Y/N wasn’t the dearest person in the world. Hoseok learned this after weeks of dealing with her unintentional snarkiness and unnecessary science lessons that may seem insulting and offensive to others. But through the time he got to befriend her, Hoseok learns Y/N is just too smart for her own good. Y/N always goes around like an encyclopedia because she doesn’t know what else to say when she wants to find common grounds with other people. It is just unfortunate that Y/N cannot speak of anything that does not involve quantum mechanics and chemical structures. Meanwhile, her unintended snarkiness is always directed to people’s redundancy and anomalies in their speech. Hoseok found out about this as soon as February rolled in, that it has to do with the restrictive childhood Y/N had. This, he discovered when Professor Minyoung Park called for him after his Science 11 GE class.

“Hoseok, I see you getting close with Y/N, these days.”

“Yes ma'am,” Hoseok replies. He sits on the chair in front of her desk.

“Oh, then you must have been familiar with how she can get,” Ms. Park leans forward, “not so…friendly around people. I know she and her mind of hers can be a little too much for others.”

Hoseok’s forehead furrows. How did Professor Park know? Although Y/N’s bad reputation has easily spread like wildfire among college students, not many professors or any of the university staff have shown any interest in her life other than her impressive academic standing. Hoseok asks, “How did you know, Ms. Park?”

The 40-year old professor leans back and smiles. “Would you believe I used to tutor Y/N L/N back in middle school?”

“No way,” Hoseok’s jaw drops open.

Ms. Park chuckles, “Yes, it’s true. I know, what a coincidence right? I remember how that pretty girl used to be so insecure about her braces.”

“Yeah, she must be so…adorable back then,” Hoseok looks away bashful. He’s not used associating Y/N with such adjectives. Saying them aloud feels too weird on his tongue.

Ms. Park’s voice makes him turn back to her. “Until now she is. It’s just a shame how she did not outgrow her…usual speech style. But in her defense, it’s not entirely her fault.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. His curiosity is instantly piqued. “What do you mean, Ms. Park?”

“Well, Y/N L/N is brought up in a home…quite not friendly for children growing up. The L/Ns is a prestigious family. Not for their wealth, but for their remarkable lineage of geniuses. Y/N’s great grandparents are renowned mathematician whizzes. Her grandparents own Fields medals for their remarkable contributions in mathematics. Moreover, Y/N’s parents are well-respected chemists in almost every pharmaceutical congregation. Even their relatives are families of renowned doctors and engineers. From over ten years of tutoring her, I noticed how expectations pile up upon the short shoulders of young Y/N. Every single school day, Y/N has to attend cram schools and private tutoring after her classes to ensure she stays on top of the overall batch standing. She also has to be exposed to upper-class parties at such a young age which I think does not help anyone at all. Especially a child. All the people ever do there is brag about their achievements, scour for new families to ally with or manipulate, and eye each other’s mistakes so they can prove publicly how better they are than everyone else.” Ms. Park looks at Hoseok in the eyes, “Believe me, I used to dream about attending such parties until I finally learned how they go when I’ve been invited by the L/Ns. And with Y/N being a single child, all eyes were on her. So any room for mistakes is non-existent. Her parents assured her to grow like the perfect daughter they wanted her to be by making sure her movements are always constantly monitored and kept in check. You think Y/N studied here because this is just a prestigious school? No. The L/Ns wanted to send her abroad. To Harvard. Y/N refused and convinced them instead she’ll study here because I work here. And her parents trust me that I can be their eyes to see Y/N’s progress.”

Hoseok nods but he cannot help but let his mouth hang open at everything he’s discovering right now. No one really knew anything about Y/N. And suddenly out of nowhere, on some random Thursday afternoon, he is introduced into a pandora box of history where everything about her suddenly seems to make sense.

Ms. Park must have noticed his troubled face so she reaches out and holds Hoseok’s hand. “Hoseok, I’m not telling you these to pressure you. In fact, I am happy Y/N finally found someone who can listen to her and understand her, instead of watching her like a glass-cased perfect doll. I’m just telling you all these not to excuse the mistakes she has done but for you to understand where she’s coming from, especially when interacting with her can be difficult sometimes. So I hope you won’t give up on her, Hoseok. I know you’re a good kid. I just want Y/N to finally enjoy herself like every other college student out there.”

And Hoseok, with his ever characteristic stubbornness did not give up on you.

“What do you mean I cannot state the faulty quantum mechanics in Antman to Taehyung?!” Y/N scowls at Hoseok, fingers frozen on the book she has mid-taken away from the shelf.

“Because you will break Taehyung’s heart,” Hoseok purses his lips and steps nearer to her, almost cornering her to the back of the bookshelf. “And can you lower your voice? We’re in a library.”

“For the same reason you should also back up a bit as I do not fancy you borderline sexually harrassing me.”

“Sexual harassment?!” Hoseok whisper-yells, “I’m stepping closer to you because I feel the need to whisper louder for you to get my point that you should not explain whatever Antman’s faulty quantum shit to Taehyung because that will make him angry. And sad!”

“Why will he be angry?” Y/N sticks her nose up and crosses her arms. “Shouldn’t he feel grateful I am adding heuristic value to his existing knowledge?”

Hoseok drags a hand down his face, “Well, I didn’t say you cannot explain some facts to Taehyung. I’m just saying you don’t tell him those things in a matter-of-factly way you always do because he’ll think you’re insulting him for watching such movies.”

“How should I say them then?” Y/N quips back.

Y/N learns the answer to her question before she knew she already did it. She realizes it when she gets out of her film class and Hoseok, who has been waiting for her last period to finish, asks her how did it go.

“Well, I told him 'The film Antman is quite weird.’”

“And what did he say?”

“Taehyung grinned at me and high-fived me.”

“Well then, it was successful. Much better than how you initially decided to do it,” Hoseok grins.

“But still…I called Ant Man weird, I’m still perplexed why Taehyung is pleased.”

“Calling something weird is a common expression to us,” Hoseok starts and Y/N tilts her head. Hoseok explains further, “’Weird’ can mean as a good endearing weird or an insulting ‘weird.’ If you added statistics of probability and some laws with calling something ‘weird,’ it will sound like 'Hypothesis one is proven: the movie is confirmed to be bullshit because of unquestionable proof.’ And that will appear insulting because you are not giving room for others’ opinions to be valid. It will make you look you’re belittling them if you said it that way. But today, you did not. See?” Hoseok smiles, “you do not have to state 100 percent what you really meant. Just a bit of truth you find essential for others to know is already enough for a small talk.”

Y/N nods, her lips morphed into an amused “oh.”

Hoseok grins as he puts his hands on his waist, “Trust me on this. I became Mr. Congeniality last year for a reason.”

“What does it have to do with making small talk?”

“It means, I am the expert in making small talk.”

***

“C'mon, Y/N, let’s go to the spring festival. Please, please, please, pleaseeee.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N pulls her hand from his grip, “I have to study for our finals.”

“But, Y/N, it’s too early for that. The finals is yet to come 'til next month! Look at me, I do not feel any pressure to study yet.”

“But that’s because you do not have any academic standing to maintain.”

Hoseok’s face falls and Y/N immediately rectifies her mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Hoseok. Of course, I know you also value your class standing, given your program and all. I’m sorry I’m being insensitive again.”

Hoseok breaks into a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m just fucking around with you! You’re partially right though, I don’t have an academic standing to maintain but a performative one. Although I still have to keep my grades up so I can continue studying here. Anyway,” Hoseok grins at Y/N, offering his hand out, “I only accept apologies in the form of accompanying me to the spring festival.”

“Fine, Hoseok,” Y/N begrudgingly accepts his hand. But Hoseok cannot miss the small smile forming on her lips.

“Don’t fret tho,” He boops her nose and she cringes at him, “we can insert some Q&A sessions later so you can do a bit of studying if you’d still like.”

“How will we do that?”

Y/N learns the answer to that when she finds themselves screaming from the opposite ends of the giant boat ride.

“HOSEOK, DAMN YOU!”

The boat tips and her stomach drops but all she can hear is Hoseok screaming.

“WRONG, Y/N. The answer to the drilling ship which can dig 'til the mantle of the earth IS CHIKYU! NOW, off to the next question. What are CYANOBACTERIA?!!!”

But Hoseok does more than just sticking by Y/N’s side and not giving up on her. He falls in love with her.

Through the months he has become Y/N’s friend, Hoseok cannot help but be endeared by her. The things about her he never thought will come as close to what he calls cute suddenly grows on him. It grows too much that he lives off every single one of them. Even if it usually ends with him getting roasted. He used to get frustrated by Y/N’s never-ending witty comebacks. Now, his heart started singing during their bicker-banters that Hoseok even started to look forward to their bickering. Y/N’s smile that Hoseok used to think was a standard horror level of creepy is now all he could dream about when he’s asleep, and even when he’s awake. The way Y/N laughs at him, or smiles when she sees him were heart-warming. Until they upped 100 million levels and now they have become cataclysmic for his heart. The way Y/N patiently teaches him his lessons, or how her science-y jokes and memes become funny was something Hoseok used to overlook as trivial. Now, he couldn’t wait for the days he’ll bring his notebooks to the library and stare at Y/N’s face while she teaches him quantum mechanics and chemical structures.

Y/N’s small “tokens of appreciation,” as what she called it, like her handmade ‘thank you’ cards she gives Hoseok every month, or her invitations for Hoseok to accompany her to some street event or nearby dance event, or as uneventful as a new food stall that has opened in the university were something Hoseok never put much thought on. Now, they’re Hoseok’s source of both happiness and headaches as they make his heart fly and his brain ache for thinking too much into her actions. The way Y/N looks at him like never someone else has before—so attentive and focused in everything he says as if everything that comes from his mouth has so much worth listening to. Even if it’s a disgusting tale of how he almost shitted his pants before their science exam because he didn’t listen to Jimin when he told him to stop binge-eating spicy wings as a coping mechanism to stress, Y/N listens. This used to be something Hoseok treats as his special privilege as her friend. But now, it has become a national treasure he does not want to share with others. Especially with Namjoon, his roommate, whom Y/N managed to befriend because the former is a Biology major who’s on the same level as Y/N’s intellectual prowess. God, Hoseok cannot even count on his hands the number of times he’s been conflicted if it was jealousy on Namjoon’s effortless way to make Y/N laugh, or petty anger because he cannot even understand their jokes.

Hoseok doesn’t know how or why he suddenly felt all of these things for Y/N. It just happened. And so is how he accidentally blurted it out to her during one of their conversations, despite Jimin and Taehyung’s adamant warnings not to ask her out.

"And whenever I use the microscope in my room, I’m always scared turning the coarse knob so much. It will be horrifying to see the objective lens break the slide and the coverslip.”

“Y/N, I like you.”

YN’s jaw goes slack and she stares at him, eyes wide. Hoseok almost feels perspiration dot his entire hairline for what feels like ten whole minutes in purgatory. Will Y/N leave? Will she scream at him, laugh at him even for his audacity? Will she reject him? Of course she will, what is he thinking? Taehyung and Jimin are right. Y/N is smart and he is too dumb for her to even fulfill at least an ounce of her standards. Y/N is respectable and he is a shameless clown–

“I…am allowing you to be sexually attracted to me, Hoseok.”

“W-what?”

“I said,” Y/N looks straight into his eyes, “I am giving you permission to like me, Hoseok.”

Hoseok balks. “P-permission? W-why do I need permission?”

“Because, if you’re going to like me, I need you to know I am acknowledging your sexual attraction to me seriously,” Y/N stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of your coat. “It will be a waste if you do not want a long-term commitment. I do not have time to dwell on anything less than that.”

Lucky for Y/N, so does Hoseok and he wastes no time proving it to her. For the course of six months, Hoseok courts her in the most possible best Hoseok-way. Y/N lived the majority of her life within suffocating walls surrounded by academics, titles, honors, and people waiting for her to fall. Hoseok wanted to take her with him on a break (and a possible future lifestyle) away from them all. So he takes Y/N to carnivals, dance events, and festivals–ranging from streets decorated in cheap glowing lanterns to grander events that have remarkable fireworks displays.

Hoseok shows Y/N himself at his most vulnerable and strongest. He lets her watch him perform alone in practice rooms as he expresses the things muddled in his head, things he never dares to say to anyone else. Y/N’s been with him when he broke down due to his anxiety concerning his not-so-impressive acads. She was also with him in his embarrassing drunk adventures. Hell, Y/N even participated in his crew’s weird end-of-the-sem party. She let Hoseok dress them two like the two robbers from Home Alone–complete with the rageddy cut gloves and dirty face makeup. But, Y/N has also seen Hoseok’s crew’s successful university tours, the exclusive events he got invited to, and his dance recitals that got many theater and entertainment scouts crowding the room he’s dancing in.

Hoseok shows all of himself to Y/N. Willingly and so transparently, that in turn, she started to show him her self, too. Y/N let him see her in her utter glory. She let him see her receiving awards from various electronics competitions and exhibitions, her creating the first demo of her portable printer and scanner machine that earned many positive reviews from numerous investors, and her getting featured in not just the university’s newspaper or any other school’s newspapers, but the city’s news for a composting machine she invented. And, Y/N also let Hoseok see her at her worst. She let him see her get told off by one of the people she had unconsciously insulted in the hallways, her failing her Communication GE classes, and her having a panic attack when her parents announced yet again another party of scholars who wish to see what she’s been up to lately.

These things made Y/N realize Hoseok was serious about her and she, in return, has started to cherish the golden boy who would never leave her alone for the day until she’s crying from sheer laughter and happiness.

However, it is the small things Hoseok does that really really gets to her.

Hoseok remembers the small details Y/N slips in during their conversations.

“Hey, you are not supposed to eat that,” a fork clashes with Y/N’s own, preventing her from reaching the delectable dish.

“This pasta?” Y/N looks up at Hoseok.

“It has chopped shrimps. I asked Seokjin about it and he said it has prawns.” Hoseok grabs Y/N’s hand and leads her to the other side of the buffet. There, he gets her pasta with white sauce, this time, garnished in bacon. “Here, eat this, instead. It may not taste like the one with the shrimp but at least you won’t get allergies and you can enjoy the rest of the night instead of chilling out at the hospital watching sad re-runs of The Big Bang Theory.”

***

“Hoseok, you won’t believe how fascinating my yield turned out to be, like–Hoseok, what are you doing?

Hoseok pauses in his fumbling and blinks at Y/N. He looks down back at his bag and sighs. “I was hoping to keep this a surprise but oh well.”

He pulls up something from his bag and Y/N’s left gaping when he hands her a box of baked cookies. He rubs his neck, the tip of his ears reddening under her gaze. “I remember you telling me it’s been a while since you ate cookies. My mom baked a lot for us so here, have some. I know you’re on some ridiculous diet your parents told you to take. But I hope you could give yourself a cheat day and just eat and enjoy the day. Your parents aren’t here.”

Hoseok never fails to check up on her.

“Hey, how long have you been hunched over your desk now?” Hoseok’s voice blares from Y/N’s phone’s speakers and she sighs.

“About five hours now, I think?”

“Okay. Why don’t you take a break for ten minutes before going back to the grind? You told me your back is being an ass to you for two weeks now. Give it some rest. Also, drink some water.”

“Okay mom, will do,” Y/N chuckles over the line.

“Okay my daughter,” Hoseok sing-songs and she snorts. “I’ll call later and check up on you. Don’t dare to not take a break. I know where your dorm is and I’ll break into your window if I have to.”

“Okay, okay, will do, my personal health support system.”

“Glad to be of your service, ma'am.”

***

Y/N sighs as she throws her bag onto her bed. Today is a beat day. Mr. David was sour and he poured all his frustration on their class by giving out unnecessary lectures instead of teaching the new lesson. Y/N guesses she’ll have to self-study again for a quiz the prof has irrationally scheduled for tomorrow. And oh, Ms. Peterson also gave out a heavy paper late. It will force Y/N to cram for it in two days as submission date is just the day after tomorrow. Why is every deadline piling up today? It’s not yet even finals week yet!

Y/N plops onto her desk with a heavy sigh. She’ll end up having to do an all-nighter again — wait, what’s that doing there? There’s a pack of sandwiches in a clear food container sitting on top of her desk, beside her notebooks. Y/N doesn’t remember buying one or requesting her rommate, Jae In, to buy her one. Curious, she picked it up and turned it around. That’s when Y/N sees a yellow post-it attached on the plastic container.

“Hey Y/N. I thought of you today and decided to make you a sandwich. This is edible, I assure you. I asked my cooking mama friend Seokjin to come over and help me. Eat this snack before you do your work. I know you always start work right after coming home from your classes. I hope you eat on time and not skip on meals.

With super duper mega love,

Hoseok 😘”

And Hoseok helps Y/N to the best he can, whenever he can, especially about things she’s passionate about but no one takes time to really understand.

"Hey Y/N,” Hoseok greets as he plops down next to her seat in the library.

“Hoseok?” Y/N glances up at him, eyes wide, “What are you doing here? You told me you have practice today.”

“Eh, the members cancelled on me today. And also, I’ve missed you, so I figured why not visit you.” Hoseok grins at her and she momentarily forgets how to breathe. Y/N doesn’t know when Hoseok started to have that effect on her, it just happened. And although it is starting to be an inconvenience regarding how she becomes a nervous wreck under his gaze, she weirdly cannot find herself complaining against it.

Hoseok leans forward, breaking her trance. “Now, what should we study today?”

“Uh-uhm, cellular mechanisms. I wanted to learn more about cancer cells.”

“Cellular mechanisms it is, then. Want me to help you make diagrams?”

Y/N nods and Hoseok grins, “I see the skills of artist Hoseok is not about to die anytime soon, eh?”

***

“How does that work, Y/N?”

“Well, it converts the mechanical energy from every step you take into electrical energy. It’s not yet finished so I’m still figuring out how many more parts I need for this to work. My previous demos have a lot of mistakes.” Right at the same time, a bolt pops off. Y/N runs a hand over her face, “And a lot of malfunctioning parts.”

Hoseok scratches his head. “I don’t know about any energy conversions but I know how to screw well?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A-a statement. I can fix what we have for now while you revise your design. Whaddya think?”

“That sounds good.” Y/N turns around and heads for her blue prints. But before she can pick up her measuring materials, she turns back to Hoseok, meeting his gaze as he’s mid-picking up a screw driver.

“Thank you, Hoseok for assisting me on this. I know it’s just a personal project and I may be taking too much of your time when you should probably be resting at your dorm.”

“Pssh, you’re not taking too much of my time. I am enjoying my time with you. Also, it’s not just a personal project. It is a personal project so of course, it deserves to have gigantic importance to you. And it will turn out great because I know it will. Now go let’s get these revisions done so we can do another test run.”

Hoseok has been a wonderful friend, an amazing supporter, and a sincere person who never feels ashamed of showing Y/N what he felt. That is all she needed for her not to doubt anymore and accept his confession.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hoseok huffs, hands tucked deep in his red parka. “Why did you tell me to meet up in the park? It’s cold out. Can’t it wait 'til tomorrow?”

“No, it cannot,” Y/N faces the man, brows scrunched, her lips red from the number of times she has bitten it. “Hoseok, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“W-what is it?”

“I…am reciprocating yo-your profession of your sexual attraction to me.”

“What?”

“I said, I am reciprocating–” Y/N’ bites her lip and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives Hoseok the most focused stare she can ever give. “Hoseok, I am accepting your love confession. I like you, too.”

Hoseok stares at Y/N, eyes wide, mouth agape. And for too long that Y/N thought the cold must have frozen him all over.

“Hoseok, why are you staring like that? I am telling you, I like you too–hmppf!”

Hoseok is kissing her, his lips pressed softly against hers in a gentle peck. Before Y/N could process things in her head about what to do when the boy she likes started kissing her, Hoseok is already coaxing her lips to dance with his. And before long, Y/N is returning him a kiss with the same ardor as his. It’s not like her to suddenly make out with someone so publicly. Hell, it’s not even like her to kiss someone with such passion that the warmth she feels on her chest comes close as to the heat of the sun. But as Y/N stays in Hoseok’s embrace in the middle of the frosted park which contrasts their warm chests, everything just feels so right.

So right, as if fate just planned this very night for the two of them. Because, as their kiss comes into an end, Y/N and Hoseok both jolt at the drop of wetness that land on their heads. Y/N looks up and sees the familiar soft white snow falling from the dark night sky. The first snow. Right then deja vu sets in of how it was just one year ago she met this giggling boy in front of her at the very same time of the year.

“I guess the universe wants us to be together, too.” Hoseok smiles.

Y/N grins at him and sinks deeper into his embrace. “As preposterous that sounds given that the universe is, literally speaking, a no-higher living being, it is more preposterous that I am finding myself agreeing to and blushing because of this.”

“I can’t understand what you said but I think it means you like it too so I’m deciding this is one of the best blush-worthy moments I ever had,” Hoseok kisses the top of Y/N’s head, “and whatever you say won’t stop me from taking back what I said.” Y/N nuzzles her nose against his chest, smiling at the way she cannot tell her heartbeat apart from his–the beats beneath their chests in sync despite the incongruity in her words.

***

Loving Hoseok is easy. He is charming, generous, understanding, and everything Y/N ever wanted. Even more, nothing really changed from their friendship, just the addition of cheesy pick-up lines, sweet kisses here and there, hot make-out sessions which more often than not escalate into passionate (and very amazing) love-making. And Y/N loves her relationship with him as well for this. Because even if Hoseok succeeds in making her a soft mush for him, she cannot live her life without having him be the best-est friend she could ever have in her life.

But from all the things Y/N loves about Hoseok, her most favorite has to be his utter transparency. What she sees in him, is what she gets. Hoseok is unabashed in proclaiming his feelings for her. He does not get embarrassed in showing Y/N his love for her. And, Hoseok does not keep secrets from her. He just willingly tells everything about him to her, no euphemisms, no lies. Y/N guesses this is probably the reason why their fights never last too long. Moreover, this quality of his makes up for Y/N’s inability to effectively express her thoughts and feelings. He taught Y/N pure utter honesty that so many people have stigmatized for naivety, but actually felt so amazing. He also taught Y/N to trust and let down her walls for people so they can be able to love her. Hoseok inspires and motivates Y/N to become a better version of herself, not only for the sake of others, but also for herself, and she cannot be grateful enough for that.

Titles didn’t matter with Hoseok, with Y/N, and their relationship. What only matters is their labels for each other–boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers loved and in love. Hoseok does not encrypt his messages in a way that would match Y/N’s mental capacity – He just talks with her like the way he is, nonsense and eggplant emojis and all. Hoseok does not burden Y/N with heavy, unreasonable expectations. He just loves her and lets her be whatever she wants. He just stays by Y/N’s side as she freely learns from and works on her mistakes like every flawed human being. With Hoseok, Y/N knew what she deserves and she started to live her life the way she has always dreamed of–so flawed but so perfectly Y/N L/N who is unafraid of what the future may bring to her.

However, not everyone cannot fully comprehend Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok. Loving Hoseok may be easy but the environment surrounding their relationship is an entirely opposite scenario. For Hoseok’s and Y/N’s disregard of titles, does not guarantee everyone else around their relationship will do the same.

Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok spread throughout the campus like a Jeffree Star fight-controversy with another YouTuber in 2x speed. The entire university has gone berserk yet again, unable to fathom how someone who shines so bright like Hoseok can be together with someone like Y/N who dims other’s lights. And for other people, they cannot understand how such a happy-go-lucky academically-challenged student like Hoseok can even amuse such no-shit, genius brain of Y/N.

Almost everyone has something to say about their relationship. And, most often than not, they are negative. It didn’t help anything in their relationship as Y/N is already insecure as to why Hoseok even chose her when he can have any woman he wished. Y/N knows she’s difficult to be with. She struggles with expressing her feelings and thoughts. She even feels like she’s making things too hard for Hoseok. You see, Y/N’s a safe player. In whatever grounds she’s in — academics, social life, family ties — she always plays safe. Y/N finds it hard to not be so, especially when all her life, she has been groomed to be a person well-liked by everybody else — a person safe from any negative impression that may tarnish her reputation. So, when things get a little bit too hard with Hoseok, Y/N finds herself automatically heading for the exit.

Just like in one Wednesday night in August. Y/N had her fair share of fights with Hoseok. From the difficulties that tie with his popularity, her inability to show her feelings to him that sometimes makes him question her love, his procrastination and occasional lack of care for his academics, her nature to obsess over her studies that she tends to forget herself and everyone around her, to his numerous female friends who have the audacity to still flirt with him even if they all know he’s dating her — Y/N and Hoseok have fought about them all within their seven months of dating. And sure, they were already pretty bad fights given that they were immensely serious with Y/N and Hoseok ending up screaming at each other, giving each other cold shoulders, and ignoring each other for at most (usually) five days. But this Wednesday night was not like any of ther previous fights. Because this time, Y/N told Hoseok she wanted to break up with him.

“Will you stop for a second, Y/N?!”

Y/N swiftly turns around, tears brimming her swollen red eyes, “What do you want, Hoseok? I already said what I need to say. I am tired of constantly being the bad guy whenever we fight. I am tired of this, of you. I want to break up.”

“No, you don’t mean that,” Hoseok almost cries. He looks equally devastated as her — swollen eyes, pale face, trembling fingers. “N-no, you don’t mean that,” he repeats, this time, his voice breaking.

“Of course I mean them, Hoseok,” Y/N spits, “I never say things I do not mean. You know me.”

“I know you,” Hoseok retorts, “that’s why I am telling you right now you don’t mean telling me you’re tired of our relationship, of me. That you want to b-break up. B-because you’re Y/N,” he breathes out. “You seem cold but you actually care. You do not speak your thoughts or feelings aloud but act on them. Okay, maybe you speak them out, but you say it in a way most people do not understand so that still does not count. But, Y/N,” Hoseok reaches for her hand before she can even think of shaking off his hold, “I know you love me. Deep inside the deepest of your hypothalamus, like you said, I believe you love me. Or else, you wouldn’t stay when I told you to watch me dance alone, frustrated with the world. You wouldn’t put in effort befriending Taehyung and Jimin despite knowing what they all said about you in the past. You wouldn’t have told me you wanted to come with me to my hometown and meet my family for my dad’s birthday. And,” Hoseok looks down at his feet, “you wouldn’t have stayed with me this long knowing how annoying I can be and what everyone else has to say about us. So please, Y/N. Just please…stay. Let’s talk it out together. Don’t just break up with me. Please don’t just l-leave me alone.”

When Hoseok looks up at Y/N, it is with his brows scrunched together, eyes glazed over, and form almost kneeling in front of her. He holds her hands so tight, but yet so gentle, as if afraid if he clasped her fingers tighter, it will be too suffocating that she’ll slip away from him. He just looks at her and she cannot help but return his gaze. Y/N realizes right then, it may have been a bad decision to do so. For all she could see in his eyes is her reflection. Her and only her. It even seems as if he’s trying to keep the entirety of her as vivid as a memory can be. And maybe it’s because it’s the way he unabashedly tells her everything he loves about her. Or the way he remembers every single detail about her. Or how he knows her so well despite their relationship blooming at such a young age. But, they are all enough for Y/N to hold his hands tighter and let him engulf HER in his arms.

“H-Hobi–”

“S-see? You even still call me like that,” Hoseok mutters above her head and Y/N bites her lip as she clutches onto his jacket tighter.

“Hobi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean them. I’m not tired of you. I’m not tired of u-us. I do not want to break up with you. Not at all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Y/N lets out a sob and Hoseok hugs her tighter, running a hand over her hair, knowing it calms her down. “It’s just that everything’s been too much lately. The-the way your friends–”

“What did they do?” Hoseok’s voice deepens close into a low growl. Y/N gulps. “Please tell me, Y/N,” Hoseok says softly as he cups her face in his warm hands. Y/N bites her lip and looks away. She does not want to be that type of girlfriend who instigates a fight between their significant other and their friends. She does not want Hoseok to have a bad blood with people he cares about. But then, Y/N remembers their fight two months ago. That night when she confronted Hoseok about the consecutive late nights he has spent in the practice room, neglecting his studies and even his own health for the past two weeks. The moment Y/N cornered him about it, Hoseok broke down and told her everything — how he lacked the motivation to perform well in his recitals and how his course adviser told him to pull his shit together before he fucks up the nearing international dance competition.

“She told me that I’m dating you right now but why can’t I even pull my shit together like you do. That she doesn’t understand why you’re even dating me when you can date far more competent guys. That sooner or later, you’re going to break up with me. Because,” Hoseok sighs and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his cheeks, a tear slipping down them instead, “look at me. I’m so sloppy. I’m such a loser—”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N interrupts him and Hoseok jolts. “You…you’re not a loser. Sloppy, yes, sometimes,” Hoseok winces and Y/N grabs his arms and pulls him toward her so she can hug him tight. “Hoseok, listen to me. I’m your lover. No one else’s but yours. I love you and I will not leave you. I do not care about other guys, if they are more competent or whatever. After all, competency is just a social construct designed to promote the societal standards that aim for conformity.” Y/N disentangles herself from him to cup his face in her hands. “Hoseok, you are not a loser. And, you’ll never be. How can you be at least an inch of one? You were the one who led countless competitions which won our university so many awards. Almost ALL the trophies in our campus’ Hall of Honor were all thanks to you. You were the one who helped our fashion design majors grab an opportunity with various labels after your runway a year ago became viral. You were also the one responsible for resurrecting countless dead orgs with actually good goals. They even received rewards from the local government because of the projects you arranged! You’re not a loser, Hobi. In fact, you are the opposite of loser. It’s just your prof is an ungrateful bitch, demeaning you like that when you’ve brought glory to her name as your program adviser. What a fucking asshole, I could have punched her in the face and—”

Hoseok detaches his lips from hers and smiles. “I can’t believe I’m starting to rub off of you. You just said your first curse word. Two even!”

“Damn you, Hoseok. I’m being serious.”

“And so am I. Thank you for cheering me up, Y/N. This is why I love you so much!”

Hoseok has always been honest to Y/N and she decides it’s only right for her to do the same.

Y/N looks up at him. “Nayeon, Sungyoon, and…Sara cornered me yesterday and I thought it will be about what you are recently up to. Why you were absent at yesterday’s practice. It turned out they did this high school toxic open-forum-like session where they told me all my shits and why I shouldn’t hang out you. They said you were no longer the Hoseok you used to be because I kept dragging you down. That I…do not deserve you and you should be with girls like you. And you know what, I thought so, too. Because, you have far better things ahead from you than tying you down here with me.”

“No one can tell what you deserve or not, Y/N,” Hoseok retorts. “Only you can. And, I know what you are thinking right now maybe the opposite of what you really think about yourself. But if I could help, I think you totally deserve me. Even more than that, honestly. Because, Y/N, you are not tying me down anywhere. In fact you are tying me up. Not literally but figuratively. Okay” Hoseok closes his eyes, “I know it doesn’t make sense—whatever I say doesn’t make sense on the regular basis, so what’s the difference—but, what I mean to say is, Y/N, you are keeping me afloat. You are keeping my head up from the expectations and shitstorms that is plaguing me. You are helping me stay alive and keep pushing through all the difficulties I face. And for that, I am eternally grateful for you. So,” Hoseok smiles, “do not let anything anyone else says about us get to you. Because, they don’t really know anything about me and they very much don’t know anything about you. They don’t get to judge. Not when they do not know how it feels to have the most amazing angel by your side.”

Y/N scrunches her face at him but she hugs him tight nevertheless. “Must you always be this cheesy and cringey?”

“Only for you, baby,” Y/N could feel Hoseok grin from the top of her head. “Also, I’m gonna have a talk with those girls so expect apologies coming your way. And if things go the other way,” Hoseok clicks his tongue, “expect a decrease in my friends.”

However, everything Hoseok spouted is easier said than done. Because truth be told, Hoseok thinks it is him who actually doesn’t deserve Y/N. She is intelligent but so is she kind. She’s mature and it is usually her who does most of the helping and progressing in their relationship. Most of all, it is more realistic to say, Y/N is the one who has far greater things ahead than him. And it became clearer to him the night she took him with her to her family’s home for one of her parents’ parties.

Y/N countlessly told Hoseok she didn’t need to attend it. She even highly advised him not to come with her. But Hoseok has forever been stubborn so of course when he told Y/N he wanted to meet her family, he did every bit of convincing that get him to where he is now — shaken and lost in the middle of a fucking science exhibit of a party. The night actually started out well. He introduced himself to every member of the L/N family, even distant ones who stayed in the farthest, most unnoticeable corners of Y/N’s house. Y/N’s family members welcomed him with smiles and actively talked with him. Her parents even handed him his plate of food themselves and invited him to spend Christmas with them.

It only started going downhill when it was time for the main event of the party—the what-have-you-been-up-to lately segment or what Y/N would like to call the “let the best bragger win.” Everyone started spewing their achievements for the year in a fashion that challenges the other party to disclose their far greater successes. Which, ultimately, insult the others for their lack of any. The party felt as if it was a battlefield with every member of Y/N’s family pitting their achievements against each other, no matter what context they are in—even if they are not of the same category to even compare. Next thing Hoseok knew, he was being dragged into the center of the conversation, with Y/N’s father asking him to tell his “revolutionary thoughts.”

Hoseok tried his best. He really did. He had recalled every lesson he learned in his Science-related GEs and even tried to apply them in the academic journals he saw Y/N reading. That’s why he doesn’t understand why every single time he opens his mouth, Y/N’s entire family is laughing at him. Is the Dual Nucleus Association found in fingerprints that funny? Hoseok didn’t take too long to ponder on it, for the next second, a hand is pulling him to the front doors of the L/N house. It takes another second for Hoseok to register Y/N was the one who’s dragging him onto the street in angry stomps.

“Y/N! Why did we go out?” Hoseok pulls on her arm, “We have to come back! It will be rude to your parents! I don’t want to leave a bad impression y’know–”

“It doesn’t matter, Hoseok!” Y/N whirls around, distraught, and Hoseok only notices just now her glazed eyes. Y/N chokes out, “Leaving an impression on them doesn’t matter because we have to get out NOW.”

“What? No, Y/N! That’s not appropriate! I–”

“Then is it appropriate for my parents and relatives’ to blatantly insult you right in your face?”

Hoseok takes a step back, “What? But they were laughing at me there. I guess my jokes are–”

“Hoseok, they were mocking you in there. We both hell know the fingerprint DNA trivia you were telling them is not a joke.”

“But your father said the Dual Nucleus Association I muttered was revolutionary and funny.”

Y/N closes her eyes as she releases a staggered sigh, “Hoseok, ‘revolutionary’ in my father’s dictionary meant ‘stupid.’” Hoseok scrunches his brows and Y/N breathes out, wishing she could let out as well the aggravation and loathing for her parents she has kept inside for so long. “He was making fun of you, Hobi. DNA does not stand for Dual Nucleus Association. It’s Deoxyribonucleic Acid. My father fucking knew what this means because he took a PhD in Microbiology and he didn’t even have the heart to correct you. He even put you up in front of everybody else and humiliate you without you even noticing it.”

“W-what?”

Y/N sighs for the nth time as she reaches for his hands. “Hoseok, I’m sorry I left you alone. This whole time, I didn’t know you were in my father’s care. It’s just that my cousin came to me and asked desperately for help about the verbal abuse he experiences at home. The way he asked for my help, I knew he’s about to-to blow up sooner or later. So I immediately went to his aid. And I guess I got so preoccupied trying to make him calm without triggering his panic attacks that I…did not see where you stayed in the party. Worse, I didn't fucking even know you were with my parents. I know this is not enough of an excuse and I have been a shitty girlfriend tonight. So I’m sorry, Hoseok. I’m deeply so so sorry. And right now, I’m trying to make up for my mistakes by telling you we should leave. Now. I cannot let any of them insult you more,” Y/N’s voice breaks and she raises her hand to wipe a tear that has cascaded down her cheeks, “I cannot, Hoseok, for so help me God, I will march over there and declare I want to denounce myself as a L/N.”

Hoseok doesn’t reply. He just nods at her and looks down at his feet. Y/N gulps down the anxiety building up in her larynx as she leads the two of them to the car he rented. She opts for the driver’s seat and hits the gas. Within minutes, the two of them are enveloped by the silent nightscape, a stark contrast to the cacophony of pride in her house.

“Hoseok,” the man turns to the sound of Y/N’s voice. “W-what else did my father say to you?”

Hoseok starts to fumble with the loose thread of his navy suit jacket. “Do you…really want to hear it?”

“Is it that bad?”

“Well, I-your dad questioned my ability to provide for you in the future. Because of my major and aspirations and all.”

Y/N turns to him, aghast, “What?! Why would he even say that? What, he started to forget women’s abilities to revert back to the traditional patriarchal views?! Fuck him!”

“I knew you would say that,” Hoseok says, chuckling softly. Y/N faces him again, this time perplexed as to why he is laughing. Hoseok reads her look and he clears his throat.

“When you told me I was being insulted in the party, I will admit I am offended. But, before that, during an earlier talk with your father, I was not the least bit upset.” Hoseok meets your eyes. “That time, I was scared. Immensely shit-scared.”

“I should have come to you first, not my cousin–”

“No, let me finish first.” Hoseok purses his lips. He then looks out of the car window, at the scarce stars on the sky. “I knew we are far apart from each other. It was obvious even before we got together. Hell, I do not even get the memes you send to me when we first started out as friends. Sometimes, I even get insecure that even if you are not really bestfriends with Namjoon, he seems to get everything you tell me you found at the lab. Just by listening to our conversations, he understands them all. So effortlessly at that. I even have to plead him to tutor me and dumb-translate the science-y things you tell me, while I dry my brains out trying to understand them. But when I talked with your father, tonight, how he reiterated your status and skills and their difference from mine…I have never been this scared in my life. Scared that what he said will come true—that you will realize how someone like me can never truly understand you ‘til the long run. That you will get tired of slowing your pace down for me…That you will eventually find someone more compatible with you–who also has a much more stable future ahead of just an aspiring dancer.” Hoseok turns toY/N and he reaches out for her left hand, her free hand. He clasps them in his hands and looks up at her, “But, I swear Y/N, I promise I will do my best. Your father may not be convinced but I want you to know. That I will do my best for you, Y/N. I will learn more for you. I will understand you more. I will improve my reputation into a much more respectable one. Hell, I can quit dance if I have to.”

Y/N gives Hoseok a pained look. “No, Hoseok, you will not quit dance. I do not want you to quit dance. It will be too unfair for you and I know you will regret it.”

Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah…that sounds easier said than done.”

“You don’t have to do those things for me,” Y/N squeezes his hand, making him look back to her. “I actually enjoy helping you learn. I love that you goof off the way you want because when you do that, I am reminded people like you still exist today — people who are not afraid of being themselves. Because of that, you inspire me to live more. I also love that you put in the time learning the things I’m saying because it means you genuinely are interested about my thoughts and you are not afraid of women being smarter than you — something most guys fail at. But that’s because most of them are misogynistic, prideful men on their high horses. And, I know you’re not like that. Most of all, I love it when you dance. Because through it you freely express every bit of your emotion. Because, you’re transparent, Hoseok. You’re an open book and I like it the best because you don’t leave me hanging, confused, troubled, and worried about what you’re feeling, especially when you know I am already bad at reading emotions. You are my stable ground, Hoseok. You make me feel safe. And despite the bad fights we’ve been through, I know you’re always doing your best. How can we stay this long if not for you being the brighter one between us when it comes to communicating, knowing that splitting because of things that can be solved will only result in one hell of a horrible mistake?” Y/N turns to Hoseok and he looks at her with his mouth agape, eyes blown wide. She smiles at this. “You have to know you’re more than enough, Hoseok. Like you said,” her smile grows wider, “no one can tell us what we deserve or not but ourselves. And with this, I know and feel that I deserve you, Hoseok. And you, me. What do you say?”

Hoseok’s response to that was not of a verbal one but a physical one—one that involved a feverish kiss on Y/N’s lips, and her jawline that led Y/N to park the car by the empty gasoline station. Feather-light kisses, desperate hands to grab each other as close as they can be to each other, Y/N indulges in Hoseok and him in her in a passionate love that burned so bright it rivals the sun. The only words that transpire during that fateful night was “I love you’s” and for Y/N and Hoseok, they are more than enough of an anchor of him to her and her to him as waves of obstacles come in your way.

All of these moments with Y/N have accumulated into Hoseok’s most wonderful memories in his life. And he still replays them in his head as another year of being her lover passes. Of course, problems never failed to arise as they manage their relationship. But, the ones caused by the comments of everyone in the university have lessened as Y/N and Hoseok have now graduated. Hoseok has left the university after he graduated, while Y/N stayed in the university as she applied for a Master’s degree in civil engineering.

Y/N still lives in her dorm for the convenience of teaching in the campus and studying after work. Meanwhile, Hoseok lived in an apartment in the city, close to the prestigious dance studio he works at. Their schedules are most often than not, amiss, and the distance between them can be sometimes frustrating. However, what remains the biggest obstacle is everyone’s opinions about the two of them. Sure, they were not as restrictive as what the two of them have experienced in the university. But it didn’t mean it hurt less when people say how they never thought someone as fun as Hoseok will choose someone so boring like Y/N, or how Hoseok’s intellect was a down-grader for her respectable reputation, saying she has a tasteless choice in choosing partners. Although these problems may get a little overwhelming, the two of them never let them get in between their relationship.

Hence, Y/N and Hoseok are still madly in love like the first year they have started dating. So in love that Hoseok felt it is now the time to propose to Y/N. For anymore day without her officially bounded with him, when you already own every piece of his heart, is something Hoseok cannot take any longer. He wants Y/N to be his partner for the years to come, his significant other for forever, and the only person he wakes up to and sees last in his day and nights for the rest of his entire life. Hoseok knows this and he has never been surer in his life.

This is the reason why Hoseok is where he is today: clad in an ugly Christmas sweater and mismatched socks, with a troubled look on his face. Hoseok may have only realized he wanted to marry Y/N in late November, but he was able to make an intricate proposal plan to execute before this year can end. Today is Y/N’s free day and he has classes that have ended early. Lucky for him, Jimin is free to take her out for some last-minute gift-shopping in the afternoon so Hoseok can have ample time to decorate Y/N’s dorm with hearts and diagrams of the hypothalamus (because “No, Hoseok, we do not say I love you from the deepest corner of my heart, but from the hypothalamus. We do not feel from the heart. It just pumps us blood”). Hoseok will have the gifts he bought for Y/N delivered that very same day to complete his decorations (and to also spoil her even more). He will cook Y/N her favorite dishes and make her hot cocoa even though he very much likes eggnog more, just because she likes the sweet chocolate beverage. He even requested his orchestra friends Yoongi, Jinyoung, Seokjin, and Sandeul, to play Jingle Bell Rock (“in cursive”) on the far side of the hallway so when Jimin drops Y/N off, she can have her favorite Christmas song as her background music when she steps inside her room and gets surprised.

That is why when his heart and hypothalamus decorations actually looked shit, the arrival of the gifts was delayed ‘til tomorrow, and the meals he cooked looked inedible—not to say the hot choco looked like a mess too and totally un-aesthetic—Hoseok finds himself frozen in his place next to Y/N’s Christmas tree, looking as if he was constipated for ten days. Worse, his girlfriend is already standing by her door frame, kicking the door close like it was just any other day.

Y/N hangs her coat on the hanger and puts her shopping bags on top of her wide cabinet. She nonchalantly glances at him, “Hoseok, what are you doing there?”

Hoseok feels sweat run down his face in waterfalls. If Y/N is surprised he was standing stupidly next to her tree, she did not show it. But right now, Hoseok’s concern is her seeing the decorations he made chucked in a large paper bag he hid behind the tree at the last minute. Of course, it is poorly hidden. He plays with the collar of his sweater “I…um, I–”

“Nevermind. I guess this is one of our spontaneous date nights you ironically always plan. You should inform me next time, you know, so I can prepare for you as well,” Y/N smiles at him. “Come sit with me.” She walks to the sofa by the Christmas tree and pats the seat next to her. Hoseok scrambles to sit beside her and tries not to look like the dumbest fool in the world. Y/N did not get surprised, the orchestra’s music is barely heard inside as the cold wind of early winter overrides it, and he looks totally shit. How can he propose to her now, huh? All of his plans are ruined!

“Di-did you eat already?” Hoseok asks, hands sweaty on his sweatpants. “I made you your favorite.”

“Umm…yeah,” Y/N bites her lip, guilty. “I was already hungry before Jimin and I can finish our shopping and I really felt a great need to devour some pizza today.” She reaches for her small satchel and produces a folded paper bag. “I saved some for you. We can eat it later while we watch Netflix.”

“O-okay,” Hoseok nervously laughs. His eyes land on the pink mug on the dining table. He looks back at Y/N, “D-do you want to drink something? I made you hot cocoa.”

“Ooh, I’ll drink it later. I just had a sweet choco milkshake before I got here,” Y/N bites her lips again in guilt. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, I didn’t know you prepared these stuff for me. If I had known sooner I would have never even stepped out of my dorm today.”

“It’s okay,” Hoseok pulls a smile and he tries not to look a tad bit upset about the failure of his plans, because he knows Y/N will immediately recognize that look.

And, he wasn’t wrong. “Why, Hobi?” Y/N cups his face to make him turn to her, “did I do something wrong?

“No,” Hoseok looks away. “It’s just, my plans…didn’t work out today.”

“What plans?”

Hoseok immediately feels his ass on fire. Did he just almost give himself away? He cannot just blurt out he wants to marry her! He wanted it to be special and he cannot have that happen in just her dorm with his shitty-looking outfit and almost-burned food. He wants Y/N to remember this day and he ain’t taking the risk of letting any bad memories mess up his proposal. And so, Hoseok sighs and decides he has to abort the plan and schedule it some other day. He’s just gonna make an excuse for now. “Well, I just thought we can make this random Thursday special y’know? Keep up with the aim of my spontaneous dates–good surprises making life much better without needing a reason to be. So I just made some food and stuff for the fun of it. It’s just a normal day surprise.”

“Oh, then I’m glad today is really spontaneous dates today. I may have…foiled your plans, but look, I happened to have a surprise for you!”

Hoseok tilts his head, “What is it?”

Y/N grins at him before turning around and fumbles for something in her bag. Then the next second, Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe is suddenly blaring loud from her phone.

“Y/N, did you seriously just play Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe in speaker mode?”

“Oh, don’t be an in-denial bitch. I know this is your favorite Christmas song. A good song has to create the aesthetic and mood for tonight,” Y/N chuckles, “Here, Hoseok, my present for you.” She hands him a box wrapped in a fancy green sparkling wrapper with a red bow tied around it. It was medium-sized, enough for one of his favorite KAWS models to fit inside.

“Present?” Hoseok asks, feeling both joy and guilt respectively swell in his heart and pit in his stomach. Joy, because Y/N is to add another model to his growing collection. And guilt, because he didn’t bring her anything worth the same as her gift. But as he tears open the box, another fancy green box just stares back at him. He looks up at Y/N with squinted eyes. “I see what you did there, sneaky missy.” She just chuckles at him and Hoseok continues to unbox her gift, only to have another box inside. Hoseok wonders what made Y/N think of doing this infamous wrapping technique for her gift when she wasn’t even that much into wrapping gifts. She always just give him gifts in standard wrapping paper, messily taped all over around. Moreover, what even is her gift and how small does it have to be? Because now, Hoseok’s hands are getting tired of unboxing box after box and the gift is now currently the size of a stress ball!

“Y/N, can you just tell me your gift? I’m getting tired. I can open it tomorrow instead and we can just get straight to Netflix tonight.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N laughs, patting his shoulders. “Keep unboxing.”

Hoseok continues forth with the unboxing and his heart starts to sink to his stomach as the box got smaller and smaller. This is probably a prank. One to get back at him for telling Y/N last year he bought her her favorite gift for their monito event with Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Only for him to arrive with nothing but a bow on his head and shamelessly declare to everyone that he is her gift. Nothing must be inside this box to contain a gift so small. The box in his hand is now just the size of a small toy car!

Hoseok sighs as he opens the box. Another green box will appear and then he’ll see the paper saying “Pranked you, Hobi!”

But it does not.

For the box on Hoseok’s hand right now, is gaping open to him right now. And all he sees is a sparkling, silver ring embellished with emeralds that seem to form waves around the base of the band. A fucking ring is sitting right on top of his hand.

Hoseok gapes and just stares. Far too long that Y/N decides to break the silence. “Surprise! I bought you an engagement ring! With green emeralds just like your favorite color.” She grins at him as she holds Hoseok’s hands in hers, making him turn to her while he stays jaw ajar.

Y/N suddenly feels self-conscious and unconfident. This is not the reaction she is expecting. She starts to fear if she’ll spend the coming Holidays boyfriend-less. Just by looking at Hoseok’s stupified face, it looks everything is happening too fast and too sudden tonight for her boyfriend. Nevertheless, she says, “I-I know this may come off as a really big of a surprise. After all, this is an engagement ring and right now I am trying to propose to you. Barely, even. So, of course, this is definitely a shocker. Especially when we only just spent two years dating. Still too early for a proposal to come, as what others will usually expect,” Y/N’s voice breaks.

She wrings her hands together, her feet trembling beneath her, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “But, Hoseok, in these two years I have spent with you…I learned what it felt like to be loved and be in love with you. We fight, yes. Healthily usual even. But, at the end of the day, everything still feels worth it. And I guess,” Y/N smiles, “I cannot get enough of it. I cannot get enough of you. Being your girlfriend no longer satisfied me. I now want to be your wife. I want to be the only person you’ll stress over science just to impress. I want to be the person who’ll be your home. The one you will come home to, wake up to, and sleep next to every night, every single day. I want to be your partner-in-crime, especially when we have kids and we’ll play some game I never heard of but will still enjoy in the end just because you like it. But only if you want kids, hehe.” Y/N laughs awkwardly and scratches her nape. “Hoseok, I know I am clumsy in saying my feelings for you. Today is my first time saying everything so honest and raw like this so I know this may shock you. God, you don’t know how many times I practiced this speech in my office. Other professors must already be thinking I’m going crazy—anyway, what I only want to say is,” Y/N reaches for Hoseok’s hand and kisses it. “Hoseok, I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life.” When she looks up at him, she says, “And it will only happen if you’d also love to be by my side forever as well. So what do you say?”

“W-what, I will say?” Hoseok repeats, still shaken. However, he’s so happy he cannot help the wide grin splitting on his face. “Yes, Y/N, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever and ever and ever and ever.”

“R-really?” Y/N’s releases a relieved sigh, fingers wiping the tears that have formed on her eyes. “T-Then, why did you look like as if you’re about to walk out on me when you opened the box?”

Hoseok cups her face in his hands, wiping away the tears. “Because you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Y/N scowls at this and hits his chest, hard. Hoseok coos at her as he hugs her tight and chuckles, “You’re an asshole because you headed out straight for my heart—hook, line, and sinker — and now I am completely blown away when I was supposed to be the first one to do so. Seriously, Y/N, I did not expect this to happen this way. Not when I also prepared a surprise for you tonight.”

Y/N’s brows raise in curiosity. Hoseok unzips his gym bag on the sofa and turns back to her, now with a red velvet box on his hands.

Hoseok pops open the box, a ring of the same design as the one she bought him stares back at her. But this one, instead of green emeralds, is embellished with blue emeralds, her favorite color. Right then and there, Y/N wanted to cry.

Hoseok rubs his nape. “I’m supposed to propose to you tonight as well. But you beat me right to it and now I forgot my speech.”

Y/N chuckles at that as she wipes away the tears that have formed yet again on her eyes. Hoseok smiles as he squeezes her hand. “But, that doesn’t mean I’ll skip on this once-in-a-lifetime’s opportunity to propose to you,” Hoseok looks at her, “Y/N, I love you. And I know forever can be a heavy word and sometimes love cannot solve every problem that may come our way. But Y/N, what I said two years ago hasn’t changed. I will try my best. For you, I will. And we may be young but I know you and I are capable to make us work for as long as time can let us. Because you are Y/N, and I’m Hoseok. People may be against us but we know with each other, we are the best we can ever be. We deserve each other. We need each other. But most of all, we love each other. That’s all we need. Me and you. You and me.” After he breathes out, Hoseok cups Y/N’s cheeks and she leans forward and interlocks their lips in a soft kiss.

Y/N grabs onto Hoseok’s ugly green sweater and deepens the kiss, letting her mouth do the talking for her and him. For no words can be enough to express everything that is settling in their hearts tonight — euphoric bliss, the sweet feeling of triumph. Although Y/N can feel a tinge of the uncertainty of what may come to the two of them in the future grappling on her nerves, there resides in her heart the greater courage that despite the unpredictability of life, Y/N knows she can manage it with the constant she now has by her side — Hoseok. And for him, her. Because, Y/N is certain this is the most right decision she has ever made in her life: loving him. And, Hoseok proves it is the same for him as when the kiss comes into a close, he whispers on her lips, “Guess the déjà vu tonight is really working at its best. Fate really wanted us to be together.”

Y/N grins at him, her forehead bumping into his, “And where’s your proof, future Mr. Y/N L/N?”

Hoseok presses a kiss on Y/N’s forehead, on her cheeks, on her nose, then at the corner of her ear. He whispers, “Look outside.”

And there outside, white droplets fall from the sky, lighting up the near-black horizon while frosting up the window panes. It is the first snow. Y/N smiles. What Hoseok said to her when she reciprocated his love confession doesn’t seem so preposterous now. It seems like fate really tied the two of them up together as she first met and started dating Hoseok when the first snow fell. There’s a saying that whoever you’re with during the first snow, you will be with that person for a long time. Y/N and Hoseok have already been living proof of that for being together in three years—friendship plus dating days combined — amidst whatever people say against them two.

And Y/N hopes, that as she and Hoseok promise forever to each other tonight, the saying will come true. Because she wants the two of them to be together for a very, very, very long time. After all, Hoseok is right. She is Y/N and he is Hoseok and together, they are the best they can ever be, titles and achievements be damned. The weather may be cold during these pinnacle moments of her and his relationship but their hearts are warm and cozy, and there is nothing more Y/N could ask for.

Epilogue:

“You know, Y/N, my original proposal was beautiful, I’m sure I’ll have you bawling tonight.”

Y/N gives him a look and Hoseok laughs, “Good thing they’re gone now. D’you know I actually wrote my entire proposal in my hands? They just got erased because my hands have become so sweaty when I chucked away the decorations I made for you.”

“What decorations?”

Hoseok pulls on the collar of his sweater, “Cut-outs of hearts and hypothalamus?”

“R-really? You remembered what I said to you three years ago?”

“Of course, babe,”Hoseok smiles, “It’s you. How can I forget that? But they’re not available anymore as I already threw them away. They looked like shit.”

“Where did you throw them?”

“In a paper bag….by your Christmas tree–hey, why are you picking it up?”

Y/N turns towards him, smiling, her hands gently holding the crushed hearts and hypothalamus cut-outs. “Because you made it for me, Hoseok. Of course they hold value to me. It’s you.”

“You’re really a Grinch, you know? You’re making me cry with your sweetness and beauty when I should be jumping up and down with joy right now.”

“….Do you always have to be cheesy like this?”

“Only for you, babe. And get used to it. You have a forever to experience this one-in-a-million love from the one and only Jung Hoseok.”

A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Sorry my Christmas gift for you all was late! My requirement deadlines in uni ended up until Dec. 16 and so for the majority of December, I was solely focused on uni stuff. I tried limiting myself from using page breakers in this fic, a challenge I put on myself to train my skills again in doing transitions in my writing. This story is inspired by the rivalry of science and art majors in our uni in my first year! Also! I hoped you guys appreciate my take on @kwritersworld’s prompt. I want to incorporate it in a very unexpected way, while at the same time, reflects my character in a way I‘ve never done before. OC here is a bit grumpy and lacks social skills to be friendly so I interpreted her as an everyday-Grinch hehe). Lastly, @bts-poetry, I really enjoyed doing mini Q&As with you! I hope you like this gift and I also hope we can talk more in the future!

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baronessblixen · 5 years ago

Note

I know you probably get a lot of prompts but if you’re taking any, what if scully and mulder didn’t get interrupted during their “birthday” dinner in Tempus Fugit and went home together afterwards?

Answering an old prompt, yay! This did not turn out the way I planned. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway. Tagging @today-in-fic

Birthday Surprises

He hasn’t been this nervous since his first date as a teenager. Maybe not even then. Mulder is certain that Scully has no idea that Mulder has planned this night at The Headless Woman’s Pub for a while. They used to come here more often, sharing a drink after a long day of work, getting to know each other outside of their dusty basement office.

Now, nights at the pub have become scarce. He misses those days, but not for the obvious reasons. He misses seeing Scully downing shots without blinking an eye. Her glowing complexion when she’s had one too many. Most of all he misses her laughter, her easy smiles. This year, they’ve spent too much time at hospitals and being at odds. For old time’s sake and all that, he wanted to come here tonight, on her birthday.

Scully is talking to him. He watches her mouth move but he doesn’t listen, too fussy to even think. The straw behind his teeth wears thin, just like his nerves.

“Happy birthday to you.” Finally. The singing waiters walk over to them, smiling brightly. Mulder grins at Scully who doesn’t take her eyes off of him.

“Happy birthday, dear Dana,” the waiters sing loudly, putting the hideous pink dessert in front of her. All eyes are on their table and Scully is still looking only at him, making him squirm.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday,” he jokes, clapping more enthusiastically than everyone else. He pushes the straw around in his mouth. Part one of Dana Scully’s birthday surprise is done.

“Mulder, you have never remembered my birthday in the four years I’ve known you.”

“That’s the way I like to celebrate them. Every four years, it’s like dog years that way.” Her expression shows him that she’s not impressed or amused. If he wants this to be a success, he has to up his game and quickly.

“Dog years? Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve got something for you.” He hopes she doesn’t see his hands shaking as he hands the small white box over. In hindsight, he should have picked another box but he liked it. The understated white and gold reminded him of Scully. Just like the small gift inside. She takes it from him and their fingers brush. It’s like an electric shock and Mulder pulls away. “It’s just something that reminded me of you.”

“What? An alien implant?” He smiles. Not many people know this – and he considers himself lucky to be among those chosen few – but Scully likes to kid around as much as he does. Unlike him, though, she tries to keep it outside the office.

“Two actually. I made them into earrings.” He wanted to give her earrings, he really did. He spent hours looking at jewelry, his attention constantly drawn towards a different section. The elegant wedding bands he saw in that small shop still haunt his dreams. It was a well-timed punch that day, the realization that this might be the last birthday she’d ever celebrate. In the end, though, he didn’t dare. Giving her a ring, a glowing promise he might not be able to keep, was not the way to go.

“Apollo Eleven.” Scully’s soft voice brings him back to the pub, to the here and now, away from his intrusive thoughts. She’s smiling secretively, her fingers tracing the artwork in front.

“Read the back.”

“Commemorating Apollo Eleven and the mission to the moon, July 1969.” He chuckles, unable to stop himself. He had a joke, a bad one, an innuendo that he decides to save for later.

“It’s uhm… I thought it was a pretty cool keychain.” Another joke to ease his mind. In his head, all of this was easier. Looking at her now, at the pink color of her cheeks and her wet eyes, he’s at a loss for words. He’s ever had a problem with talking. He can talk himself out of almost anything. When it comes to his feelings, especially those concerning Scully, he feels like he’s never even learned the alphabet. He doesn’t know where to begin.

Shaking her head slightly, Scully chuckles. But he sees it, a flicker of disappointment in her expression. He takes a deep breath, prepares himself for his big speech, and almost chokes on the straw in his mouth.

“Mulder!” This was not part of the plan, him choking to death and Scully having to save the day and him. It doesn’t even take her long. Her arms go around him and he doesn’t know how she does it but she heaves him up and a moment later he can breathe again. For a second time that night, they’re the center of attention. People clap and cheer Scully on, but she is more concerned with his health.

“How are you? Can you breathe?”

“I’m good,” he says, clearing his throat.

“That’s why you shouldn’t chew on straws.” She strokes his back and gives him a smile.

“Just so you know,” he says, taking a big sip from his drink, his throat protesting, “I didn’t plan this.” The smile she gives him melts his heart. Maybe it’s the shock. Maybe it’s the realization that she saved him, not just now but a thousand times over. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It doesn’t matter what the reason is. She deserves to know why he got her that keychain. She deserves much and there’s so little he can give her.

“The couple at the table behind you is giving me pitying looks. How about we take this… thing and leave this place?”

"Is this part of your plan?” Scully winks at him. That small act momentarily renders him speechless and motionless.

“Carrying this thing? No,” he says when he finds his voice again. The dessert waggles precariously as he picks it up.

"I can’t believe you remembered,” Scully says, sounding amazed.

“Your birthday?”

“The Hot Glow Pepper Delight Surprise.” She points at the pink blob in his hand. What a name. It was almost a year ago when he saw Scully lust over the dessert. Her eyes glazed over as the waited walked past them carrying two of them over to another table. She never would have said anything. Worse than that, she never would have ordered it herself. He decided then and there to one day to get her that dessert, come what may. It took him long enough.

“There’s pepper in this thing?” He says, shaking off the heavy memory.

“I guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we? Unless you…,” she trails off and stops working. She buries her hands in her pockets and stares up at him.

“It’s your birthday, Scully. You get to decide whether you want to share.” Please say yes, he thinks.

Her smile would have been answer enough, but she says, “I want to share. Take me home, Mulder.”

His ears are ringing but he does as he’s told. They’re quite on the way to her apartment, sitting close together in the back of a cab. When he glances over at her, he sees her touching the keychain again and smiles.

“I’m getting us spoons,” Scully says once they’re inside her apartment. She switches on the lights, toes off her shoes and walks into the kitchen. Mulder has been here many, many times. Tonight is different. He slips out of his shoes, too, and carries the dessert over to Scully’s kitchen table. He stares at it, half expecting it to explode.

“Here you go.” Their fingers brush again as Scully hands him a spoon. He mouths a thank you and waits for her to have the first taste. “I don’t know where to start,” she says, sounding carefree and young.

“Funny,” Mulder mumbles, “I have the same problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never explained to you why I got you that keychain.”

“You don’t have to, Mulder. I love it. Whatever it means, I appreciate the thought.”

That’s so Scully, letting him off the hook. Not on her birthday, though, not this time.

“Do you remember it? The landing on the moon?” She shakes her head. “I do. Spent all day in front of the TV. Samantha, well, she didn’t really care but to me it was everything. Like many boys, I wanted to be a part of something that big, that important. I remembered that when I saw the keychain.” Scully takes it out of her pocket. “I haven’t made it to space yet.”

“Well, some of your ideas are definitely out there.”

“Very funny,” he says, but smiles. “It was only possible because people believed in the vision. They believed, Scully. They worked together as a team. If they hadn’t… that made me think of you. Before you came along, no one believed in me.”

“Mulder…”

“No, it’s true. No one did. But then you… when I saw that keychain, I thought of it. I thought of you.” His mouth feels dry, like sandpaper. There’s so much more he wants to say and can’t.

“I love it, Mulder,” she says and puts her hand on his. “I do. It’s a thoughtful gift. A wonderful one.”

“There’s another reason,” he admits.

“Oh?”

“69, Scully.” He laughs and she slaps his arm. “What? You don’t like it?”

“Wouldn’t you want to find out,” she says under her breath but not quietly enough for him not to hear. She digs her spoon into the rich dessert and it falls apart in front of his eyes. Scully giggles.

“Yeah, I want to find out, Scully.”

“Then try it.”

“What?” He asks, this time almost choking on his own saliva.

“The dessert.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“What did you – oh.” She blushes deeply, her face now the same color as her Hot Glow Surprise. “Today’s my birthday, isn’t it?”

“You’re not seriously asking the guy who forgot it the last four years, do you?” Mulder brings the spoon to his mouth and tastes the disgustingly sweet cake.

“Does that mean I get a wish?” His eyes are intense but certain. His heart is, too, pounding vigorously in his chest. He nods slowly, licking his lip.

“Anything I want.”

“Anything. It’s your birthday.”

“I want a-” a knock on the door startles them both and Scully’s spoon lands on the table with a clank. They stare at each other. Neither wants to know who it is. Neither of them cares. Scully licks her lip just as they hear another knock, this time more insistently.

“I’m just gonna…” Mulder watches her rush to the door and open it to a frantic looking young woman.

“Yes?” Scully asks, her body tense.

“My name is Sharon Graffia. I’m sorry to approach you like this, but I followed you. I was asked to find you if something happened.”

Scully’s birthday is over, no matter what more he’d planned.

#hope you guys like!#happy i wrote #whatever the outcome #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic #Anonymous

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capnjay21 · 4 years ago

Text

A House is Never Still 4/6

Five years ago, Emma Swan disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Killian Jones’ disappearance, well, not so mysterious – given the denizens of Storybrooke all but blamed him for her murder. Drawn back to town by a series of strange events, he soon realises the story of what really happened the night she vanished is beginning to unravel, and what’s more: it isn’t over.

A/N: and here is chapter four! thank you so much for all the support so far, this chapter actually has one of my favourite sequences I’ve written for this fic. but I’m not telling which it is!

again, heaps and piles and many fancy vases full of gratitude for @hollyethecurious for creating this amazing aesthetic, without which this fic would not exist.

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of suicide, canonical character death, and some Spooky Business™.

starting a tiny taglist since I got a request for one, so I am ~tentatively~ tagging a handful of people I think might want to read this - NO obligation to, and feel free to drop me a message to say hell nah if you would prefer! I won’t be offended in any way, shape or form!

@snowbellewells @carpedzem @kmomof4 @optomisticgirl

AO3 | one | two | three

-/-

4 – an unearthly hand

Present Day

The clouds parted for the first time since Killian’s return to Storybrooke on the day he brought Regina to Brooke House, lifting the feeling of grey that had cast its blanket over the town. For days, it had warmed itself in open doorways, prowled after townsfolk around street corners and crept beneath windowsills, and Killian was relieved to be granted something of a reprieve from the fog of autumn in New England.

The house stood, as it had the day before, in the north woods just a brisk, ten-minute walk away from the well-trodden track of the White Pine trail. He didn’t need the faded pieces of string to guide his path to the house anymore, and it had become so present in his impression of the town that he had forgotten that Brooke House, as it looked at that moment, had not always been there.

Regina had stopped twenty paces from the door, expression unreadable but for her parted lips.

It seemed almost unusual to see it in the sparkling sunlight of the morning, like something had been taken right out of it. Here it was white brick and rotted wood and barren, where at night it positively brimmed with something far more than any one person could comprehend. Even at a shell of its normal, terrible self, Regina had taken a little time to process.

“It really is here,” she had said finally. “How about that.”

She said how about that the same way you would say it if you found out an old classmate had gone on to become a movie star, or you discovered your local grocery store was lifting its embargo on branded products.

Not like a house that was sometimes there, sometimes not there, was today, decidedly, there.

It had been a bit more of a laborious journey than he was used to, but Killian’s Chevelle could only take them so far and he had a lot of equipment to bring with him today, cramming everything he could as delicately as possible into his rucksack. Regina, too, had brought a duffle bag full of materials, and Killian could spot the heavy corner of her book of shadows poking out from within, begging to be noticed. The previous times he had visited Brooke House he hadn’t been properly prepared, but this time around Killian was determined to leave the house with something he could quantify, rather than just the deep, sick dread that had left with him every other night.

He had entered the house ahead of her, the novelty of its return long since worn away, and moved into the living room just to the right of the hallway. It was far brighter in the light of day, the long, Victorian windows allowing a brilliant glow from the outside, and Killian could now even spot a few holes near the top of the front wall where the mortar had crumbled away, as dapples of sunlight trickled directly in from above painting yellow specks on the floorboards. Even still, he was not entirely comfortable being there. He walked twice around the edge of the room, every unexpected creak making his heart lurch uncomfortably into his mouth, and even once whispered Emma’s name out into the dust.

Nothing stirred.

Today it was bricks, and rotted wood, and bare.

He was just setting his camera atop its tripod when Regina finally entered, the heels of her boots clicking loudly on the old wood.

“It’s like walking back into high school,” she commented drily, clearly taking in the discarded scarf, the Apollo chocolate bar wrapper. “Is that my Ouija board?”

She looked almost indignant, as if Brooke House were an old friend who had borrowed a CD and never bothered to return it, but Killian wanted her attention focused elsewhere.

“Here, come and feel this.”

He led her by the hand (amid protests) to the centre of the room, a ring of dust slightly newer than the rest just barely visible on the floor. It was the place he had been standing the night prior, when Emma had dug her nails sharply into the back of his jacket.

“Palms out. Doesn’t it feel colder here than the rest of the room?”

Regina looked unconvinced. “Maybe a little.”

“It is,” Killian insisted. “I’m sure of it. Stay right there.” He darted back to his rucksack and pulled out two identical aluminium rods, bent at a right angle six inches from one of the ends. When he returned, he held them out to Regina so she could hold the shorter end, and although she pursed her lips in displeasure, obligingly she took them. “Hold them loosely, like this.” He adjusted her grip to match.

Regina looked unamused. “And what, in God’s name, are these?” She arched an eyebrow. “I better not get struck by lightning.”

Killian returned to where he had been squatting by the camera, tilting the tripod so it could capture the spot Regina was standing in. On the infrared display, she was a warm scarlet and gold storm.

“They’re dowsing rods.”

“You’re joking.”

“Couldn’t be more serious. Hold them steady – like that.” Regina reluctantly obliged. “Tell me if they move.”

Killian had experienced limited success with dowsing in the past – it had been shown to him by a farmer in Iowa who had used it to find buried metals and ores underneath the ground, and admittedly actually had a lot to show for the results. Killian himself had been sceptical, and given how intermittent his own successes were, there was no way to tell if they could be attributed to any real sense of divination or sheer blind luck. Still, he wanted to throw everything in his arsenal at Brooke House.

“I don’t have to tell you about the ideomotor response, do I?” Regina said flatly. “Unconscious involuntary movement. Dowsing is bullshit.”

“Says the woman brewing potions in her living room,” Killian shot back. “I mean it – even if it’s a little, tell me if they move.”

Satisfied with the positioning of the camera, he plugged in his tablet and left it set to record before returning to his rucksack. After some deliberation, he reached for the electro-magnetic field reader he had tried to cushion in the bag with a thick scarf. It was blocky and old, and looked like something that had been lifted from a 60s Star Trek set, but it had become one his most valued instruments over the years.

Regina had been craning her neck to see what he was holding, and once she realised, she let out a noise of frustration.

“Killian, if you wanted an EMF reader I would’ve brought mine – at least it’s not a hundred years old. And that’s clearly a single axis meter.” Single axis meters were notoriously more difficult to use than a tri-axis, as they required significant coordination in order to measure the information recorded across all three axis ,while also trying to move the instrument to gather more data; a tri-axis allowed for much more detailed data acquisition. You could only point Killian’s meter at one thing at a time, slowly, whereas Regina’s could probably handle something far more intricate.

Even so, Killian had far more faith in his own device.

“Believe me,” he informed her, “this is better.”

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“Where did you get all this stuff anyway?”

“Ebay, mostly.”

She scoffed. “You look like a quack.”

Killian laughed. Quack was probably the most positive way Regina had ever described him. “And you’re listening to a quack,” he pointed out, “so what does that make you?” He glanced over to see her still standing where he had left her, holding the two dowsing rods outstretched. It didn’t look like they had moved. “Let me know if they cross.”

He was just tweaking with the settings on the EMF reader when Regina carried on.

“Where’s David today, anyway?”

She said ‘where’s David today’ as if she were enquiring which films her old school friend had starred in, or when branded products would be making their way onto the shelves at her local supermarket. Mild disinterest and a characteristic neutrality. She didn’t fool Killian for a second.

She carried on. “I was sure we’d be joined by the witless wonder in no time.”

Killian had sent David just one text message last night, a simple I’m sorry. David had read it, and not replied. He had to remind himself it was better off this way.

“He’s… busy.”

Regina looked surprised. “It’s been three days. How have you already fallen out with him?”

Killian tried to make his shrug as blithe as possible. “It’s a gift, I suppose.” He could just add David Nolan to the long list of people in Storybrooke who really didn’t want him to be there. Deciding finally that the dowsing rods weren’t getting anything from the cold spot, or perhaps weren’t getting anything from Regina, he crossed back over to her and swapped them for the EMF reader. This was something Regina was far more familiar with, and immediately began spinning slowly in place even as she wrinkled her nose disdainfully at the antiquated design.

“And, why, exactly, are we here?”

“We’re looking for Emma.”

Help me, Killian. Let me out. Please.

He had thought it over constantly over the last day. Maybe those words hadn’t just been spoken by that dark, terrible spectre of the house. Maybe that had been a little of Emma, their Emma, bleeding through. He had to find out for sure if there was anything but darkness left, and these were the only ways he knew to look for ghosts.

“We’re looking for Emma,” Regina repeated, in a strange tone.

It gave him pause, so he turned to look at her. She looked unfairly doubtful, and it made irritation flare within him. “The house is here, isn’t it? Where it wasn’t before. It stands to reason she could be here too. David saw her. So did Ruby. You said it yourself, something is changing. Why can’t it be her?”

He’d seen her, he wanted to say. But something held him back. Something private and longing and scared beyond his wits.

“Why can’t it be her?” he repeated, a little more forcefully when she didn’t immediately reply.

Regina bit her lip, as if trying to work out how best to proceed. She took a few steps forward, the wood underneath her boots creaking loudly.

“You and I both know… Emma wasn’t the only thing there that night. In the dark.”

Black lightning. Her wrist stained red, angry welts erupting across her forearm. Eyes as dark as obsidian.

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

A wave of nausea rose within him.

“Is it wise for us to start messing with stuff we don’t understand – again?” To her credit she looked like the suggestion made her almost as miserable as it did him, but her nature dictated she give voice to the thoughts that cut everybody to the quick. “I mean, what if this is something else, just taking the shape of Emma? And appealing to those made most vulnerable by the sight of her?”

So good of you to come and see me.

First David, then him. After all, Mary Margaret hadn’t reported any ghostly sightings, and neither had Regina – and she had practically drenched herself in the supernatural.

Killian shook his head, clutching the dowsing rods tightly.

“But what if it is Emma?” he said finally. The crux of the thing was that he could never ignore her, no matter how sensible the suggestion that he do so. He knew he looked weak, that the confidence he had projected toward Regina since returning to town had crumbled and he must look stupid next to her now, seventeen again and blithering and hopeful beside her world-worn pragmatism. “We have to try.”

He begged her, pleaded with her silently to support him.

Regina was quiet for a long moment, and the EMF reader let out a low zinging noise from where she was pointing it. After a while she sighed.

“Alright,” she said briskly, and Killian visibly sagged with relief. “But I’m going to need much more sage.”

-/-

October 24th – Five Years Ago

“Killian, it’s creepy here,” whined Mary Margaret. “When can we go?”

Emma watched as Killian laughed from where he sat across the room, drawing something onto the floorboards in thick, black marker.

“I’m sorry, Mary Margaret. Just indulge me a little longer.”

Brooke House wasn’t nearly as scary the second time Emma had visited it. They had come virtually straight from school, the sky starting to fade from bright blue to soft pink, but while Emma still didn’t exactly relish the idea of being there after dark, it had lost something of its harshness from the last time she’d been there. Somehow, by bringing Regina and Mary Margaret too, expanding their nervous trio out into a confident fivesome, it took power away from the old walls of the house. Regina had laughed when they showed her the spinning wheel, kicking it into an aggressively fast spin while they all gaped and cried for her to stop. Mary Margaret had removed the sheet from one of the armchairs in the sitting room, declared it looked comfortable enough to sleep in and confidently sat herself down – only for a large spider to creep out of the seams of the cushion, and crawl onto the edge of her dress.

Her shriek had nearly brought them all to tears, and Emma hadn’t been able to move or breathe for laughter for at least ten minutes.

Ever since Killian had asked them all to come to the house, and David had taken great pleasure in informing them it was probably haunted, Regina had been saying she would bring something to match the occasion, and she did not disappoint. Currently she, David and Mary Margaret sat on the floor (the latter with her skirts bunched up around her, casting nervous, fearful glances around for anymore creepy crawlies) surrounding what Regina had called a Ouija board. Emma recognised it only as something she’d once seen on television.

It was an old, polished wood surface ornately decorated, with all the letters of the alphabet and the numbers 0-9 beautifully calligraphed across the top. The symbol of the sun had been drawn in one corner, and a crescent moon in the other. The board came with a planchette, a triangular pointer with a glass circle in the centre to allow you to see the characters underneath. The idea, as Regina explained, was that spirits were supposed to speak through the board, by directing the planchette around its surface to spell out words and wishes.

All three held the tip of a finger on the pointer, and Emma watched with mild interest as it inched across the board. It was all bullshit anyway, but it did add to the atmosphere.

“Mary Margaret, you’re moving the pointer,” Regina scowled.

“I am not,” she replied, affronted. “David’s moving it!”

“I’m not! I swear I’m not!”

Regina brushed her hair from her face impatiently. “At least wait until we’ve asked it a question.”

“Where’d you get the creepy board, anyway?” Emma asked.

“My mom was keeping in in the attic, I found it last year when I was looking for Christmas decorations. She was so pissed when I brought it down, made me put it straight back. I always knew she was a bit nuts.” Regina grinned smugly. “So obviously I had to get it out again now the occasion called for it.”

David cleared his throat loudly, drawing their attention back to the board. “Let’s start.” He raised his voice, projecting it around the room and inserting as much grandiose as he could muster. “Are we alone in this house?” The planchette slid across the board, and David sounded out the letters it landed on. “N… O. It said no.”

“David, you’re clearly moving it.”

“I’m not!”

Leaving them to bicker, Emma turned her attention back to Killian. He had finished what he had been drawing on the floor, and was now scattering salt in a circle around it. Completely entranced in his work, his attention flickered between the salt in his hand and a few battered pieces of paper he had lain flat against the floor. Emma recognised one of them as the one etched with doodles and a few scribbles that they had found in Liam’s toolbox. Somehow, that only increased her feeling of unease.

“Hey,” she said, after crossing the room to sit beside him, hugging her knees to her chest. She was careful not to let her trainers disturb the circle he had made. She also wondered if Archie knew where all the salt at the group home had gone. “You okay?”

He had joked around with them while they let the others explore the house, but had soon retreated to his work. Which, Emma now realised, was a five-pointed star drawn on the floorboards in thick black marker, with each tip touching the edge of the salt circle.

“Yeah,” he replied, flashing her a smile. “I’m almost done.”

Emma bit her lip. “Remind me what it is you’re hoping to achieve? Do you really expect to, uh… summon some kind of ghost?” The look he gave her was unimpressed, but Emma shrugged. He hadn’t exactly given them a lot of clues. “What? I was there with Belle, remember? ‘Do you believe in magic?’”

Emma most certainly did not believe in magic.

The five-pointed star and the circle of salt were telling her something else about Killian, though.

“All I want is to understand. To just – get in his head, I don’t know. He was working on this house for weeks, but it looks like all he did was start peeling off the wallpaper. And why did he go and see Belle? Why did he –?”

Drive his car into a ravine? Emma couldn’t count the number of times Killian must have asked himself that.

He shook his head.

“It has to have something to do with this house. And look, these were in his toolbox.” Killian stepped carefully over his handiwork so he could crouch beside her, showing her the piece of paper, curling at the edges. “He drew the pentagram, right there.” He pointed out an image identical to the one Killian had just drawn on the floor. “I was doing a little research into the symbolism, and a lot of Satanic cults use it for, uh, stuff.” He trailed off unconvincingly, and Emma tried not to look the equal parts amused and creeped out that she felt.

“And like he’s done here, I’ll light a candle at each point. The notes he’s actually written are brief so I just had to interpret as best I can – ‘salt circle’ and ‘curvy dagger’. Did you bring your fishing knife like I asked?”

Emma leant forward so she could reach into the back pocket of her jeans to retrieve it. She held it close to her chest for a moment, thinking about all the comfort it had given her back when she was a kid – in a world where she could control so little, she had liked how powerful it made her feel. The first time she had showed it to Killian was when they were fourteen, and his eyes had grown so round that she hadn’t been able to stop herself from giggling.

After a moment of hesitation, she handed it over.

Another of David’s noisy questions out into the room drew their focus.

“Will I become rich and famous one day? Oh – Y… E… S.” He smirked triumphantly. “Well, better start sucking up to me now guys.”

Mary Margaret laughed. “It’s for talking to spirits, stupid, not predicting the future.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Regina purred. “Will David get a smack if he keeps moving the pointer? Yeah?”

There was a loud thump as she swatted him on the arm.

“Looks like it tells the future just fine.”

“Regina!”

They joined in the laughter with the others, the indignant surprise on David’s face just too funny to ignore; he protested loudly at all attempts of maltreatment, and started entreating the spirits in the house to retaliate on his behalf.

“They think this is a joke,” Emma said quietly, careful to keep her voice low so the others wouldn’t hear her. “Please don’t let it get to you when… if this goes nowhere.”

Killian had started wandering down a dangerous rabbit hole – she just didn’t want him to get hurt.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her, as he started placing candles at the five corners of the star. “Summoning an evil spirit? I have my expectations really low.”

“E…M…M… Emma, it’s spelt your name!” Mary Margaret squeaked.

Emma rolled her eyes, growing more tired by the minute of the game Regina had started. “Cut it out.”

“C…O…M…E.”

David narrowed his eyes at Regina suspiciously. “You’re moving it, right?”

Regina glowered back. “No, you are.”

“Guys,” Killian called over, “I’m ready.”

They left the Ouija board where it was, planchette resting atop the E, and came over to join them in the centre of the room. Killian directed each of them to sit at a point on the star, David and Mary Margaret giggling to each other but trying to keep a straight face, before he followed the line of the circle with some matches, lighting each candle. David jokingly blew on his, causing the flame to flicker wildly, and Emma shot him a warning look.

She only wanted them to take it seriously for a few minutes, just for Killian.

“What exactly are we trying to do?” Regina asked, looking bored as she played at dabbing the tip of the flame with her finger.

Emma had been about to bark a rebuke, but Killian beat her do it with an indulgent grin.

“We’re trying to get results.”

“I think I saw this ritual on an episode of Ghost Hunters,” Mary Margaret whispered excitedly. “See, the wife had murdered the husband, but they found a second body buried under the…” She seemed to sense the atmosphere starting to shift to something a little more sombre, and let her sentence trail off.

Killian stepped outside the circle to take his place at the final point of the star, placing the knife carefully in his lap once he was settled. Then they waited.

For a beat, nothing happened at all. The candles flickered in place, they exchanged uncertain looks. The shadows inside the sitting room had grown longer the closer the sun inched behind the trees, and it made the dappled light from the star in front of them look a little more ominous now that daylight was fading.

Regina huffed loudly. “Now what?”

“Erm,” Killian scratched the back of his neck, “I don’t really know.”

“Maybe we should hold hands?” David suggested quickly.

Emma felt that suggestion was probably more to do with the hand he would be holding than wanting to increase their chances of success – and she knew Killian agreed from the amused glance he sent her, but they consented all the same. Mary Margaret blushed as she slipped her hand into David’s.

Killian’s hand in Emma’s was warm, and a little clammy. It didn’t feel like it had the day of her birthday, when he had walked her back to the Nolan house from Granny’s. They had held hands the entire way, continuing to talk with enough forced nonchalance that they both knew the other was also clearly trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, hiding their smiles with glances out into the road. Then, it had made her feel dizzy with possibility, the gentle move of his thumb on the back of her hand sending her stomach spinning with delight.

This afternoon it didn’t thrill her the same way. She could feel how nervous he was in the slight tremor of his hand, and as she glanced at Regina on his other side she could tell the other girl could feel it too. Whether it was a sense of compassion for him or a desire to just get it over with, Regina slipped smoothly into control.

“We’re talking to the spirit in this house,” Regina said clearly, firmly, looking up into the ceiling. “Are you there?”

They all waited with bated breath.

“Can you hear us?”

All at once Emma was struck by the old, kind face of Belle Gold, wide eyed and fearful.

He found – he found a house, in the woods – and he thought it might make him strong.

Something thumped inside her chest. Like static from a radio, she could hear something crackling at her ear, but every time she turned her head toward the sound it disappeared. Twice she cleared her throat to try and speak but no sound came out. She knew, she knew, but she didn’t know how she knew, and Killian had turned to look at her, concerned, as her hand tightened on his.

“The knife,” she blurted out, and he raised an eyebrow. “It should be in the middle.”

Killian didn’t question her, merely stared at her curiously as he let go of Regina’s hand to slide the knife into the centre of the circle. It clattered against the floorboards before rolling to a stop in the middle.

But it felt – wrong.

“Wrong,” Mary Margaret echoed. Her eyes were closed.

David, too, had shut his eyes, and after Killian had once again completed the circle, Emma did the same. Regina didn’t speak again. Emma sensed she felt the same as she did; they had asked whatever they meant to ask, and it would be cheap to do so again. Only for show. Outside was nothing but stillness, not a sound to drown them out – in fact she had only become conscious of noise in the absence of it, and she now wished she had been playing closer attention to what it was that had stopped dead when they formed the circle.

They had been heard.

“I’m here,” Killian whispered quietly, so quietly Emma couldn’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it. “Find me.”

It had grown colder, gooseflesh beginning to erupt along her arm. Everything began to feel much farther away, as if her ears had popped, and a faint buzzing replaced the quiet that had blanketed them before. Oxygen was taking longer to reach her lungs, like the pressure in the air had changed. She could feel hair rising from the back of her neck and the thought suddenly entered her mind with a shuddering fear that she was about to be struck by lightning.

A rumble sounded from above, the rumble of something trapped beating against impossibly old doors.

The wardrobe.

It was all – wrong.

Come.

Listen.

Static zinged through her grip on Killian’s hand, and they both yelped and broke apart.

“What?” David spoke first, but the other three were all giving them baffled looks. Both Killian and Emma nursed their injured hands with matching grimaces. “What happened?”

“Electric shock,” Killian answered, shaking his hand out. “Bloody hell, ouch.”

“It’s the weather,” Regina offered. “I saw the forecast earlier. It always gets like this right before a storm.” Finally tired of the whole affair, she blew out her candle with an air of finality. “I think we can safely say this house is not haunted.”

Emma was willing her racing pulse to slow, trying to process what the fuck had just happened, but everyone else seemed to be carrying on as if nothing had occurred at all. David was helping Mary Margaret brush cobwebs from her hair while she asked if he wanted to come over to the Blanchard’s for dinner. Regina stood up and began to pack up the Ouija board. Killian stared at the flickering wick of his candle, looking despondent and a little frustrated. All like nothing in the world had taken place.

“Wait,” Emma said, looking around them all at confusion. “Are we really not going to talk about what just happened?”

They all turned to stare at her.

Killian was the first to reply. “What do you mean?”

“The – you know. It went quiet. The, uh, atmosphere.” She realised with frustration that it was amazingly difficult to describe, that breathlessness. The sense of standing on the edge and peering out into the dark. “You said it,” Emma pointed at Mary Margaret, remembering now that the girl had spoken. “You said ‘wrong’.”

Mary Margaret frowned. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” When Mary Margaret again shook her head, Emma grew indignant. “You did!” She hadn’t goddamn imagined it, so why was the other girl bothering to deny it?

“Emma, she didn’t say anything,” David said cautiously. “Nobody said anything until you guys did.”

When she opened her mouth to retort Killian put a hand on her arm. It made her hesitate long enough for them all to brush past the moment.

“This place is creepy,” Mary Margaret declared, “and I’ve got to get home. David, are you coming?”

As Mary Margaret collected her stuff, David looked torn. Emma merely smiled at him weakly, but nodded her head – he should go. She was just… she was overtired. She probably shouldn’t have stayed up so late the night before studying for their calculus test on Monday. And she was letting the feeling of that house, of Killian’s hopefulness in that house get to her, and she’d let herself get carried right along by something else altogether.

They finished helping Regina pack the board away, but Emma stayed behind to help Killian clear up, promising to see the others at school the next day, and David that night once he got back to Ruth’s. The pair of them worked mostly in silence, using the old bucket and sponge Liam had left and a bottle of water to wipe the black marker away from the floorboards. Even amongst the disrepair of the house, it felt dishonest to leave the markings on the floor.

Or perhaps they just didn’t want to leave any permanent evidence of their being there.

“I believe you,” Killian said quietly. “I didn’t hear her, but I believe you. I think these things have to affect all of us differently.”

And by ‘these things’, he meant the supernatural. Ghosts. The movement of the planchette across Regina’s spirit board.

Things Emma definitely, categorically did not believe in.

Right?

She dismissed him. “You only think I heard something because you want me to have heard something.” It wasn’t true belief in her, it wasn’t because he knew her to be honest or trusted her. It was because something else was what he had come here for, and her ramblings had been his only glimpse of it.

Killian’s wanting, longing, was palpable in his every hopeful inhale.

“That’s unfair.”

Emma chose not to reply.

“What else did you feel? In the circle?”

“Killian, stop.” She made sure her voice was firm. “You promised not to let this get to you. We tried, okay? Nothing happened.”

They had been heard.

“But you said –”

“I didn’t hear anything, alright? Just forget it.” She stalked over to the window and picked up her rucksack. If she said it forcefully enough to him, she could make it just as true to herself. “Do you want to grab some dinner somewhere?”

She knew she sounded irritated, and Kilian didn’t respond, just watched her from the centre of the room. He was not impressed with her brushing him off, clearly wanted to continue down that line of questioning, and was waiting until she felt ready to talk about it. Suddenly irritated with his saintly level of patience, Emma huffed.

“Fine. Stay here by yourself. See if I care.”

Without waiting to see if he would reply, Emma barged out of the front door and stomped down the rotted steps without another word.

-/-

But she couldn’t sleep that night.

Every time she shut her eyes, drifted near enough to something dreamless, images so vivid they felt more real than the bed she lay in assaulted her. Killian’s disappointed expression from the centre of the room, expectant, waiting. The scrape of the pointer across the board. The knife, lying still in the middle of their circle. Firelight flickering. Regina blowing out her candle with a whoosh that seemed to extend for minutes at a time.

The nothing she had felt as she sat and breathed in the circle. That terrible, absence of anything.

She had realised too late that she had left her fishing knife in Brooke House. It was altogether likely that Killian had picked it up, and after a quiet dinner with Ruth she considered going around to the group home to retrieve it from him. Instead, a wave of annoyance had risen in her. If Killian had picked it up, he should have brought it round to her. And after the brief spat they’d had before she left the house, she decided, really, he should be the one putting effort in for her. Her resolve had strengthened, and she had announced to Ruth that she would be going to bed early.

She had lain awake for a few hours, ears pricked for any noise downstairs. David had come home a little later than expected, had spoken with Ruth for a long time before retreating to his own room. Ruth had stayed in the living room for a while, likely catching up on a few chapters of the novel she had been reading, before Emma heard the creak of the stair indicating she, too, had gone to bed. Killian had not come round. Still the night wore on, and Emma found herself no closer to sleep.

Downstairs the refrigerator hummed, and the electric heater on the landing rumbled, with the occasional clank she had grown used to. On her first night, all the odd sounds of the Nolan house had unnerved her. Much like tonight she had stayed awake for hours, worried she would never be able to sleep, certain the Nolan’s would want to send her back before too long, missing Killian terribly. The further her anxiety had skyrocketed, the more restless she became.

Tonight the noises included the sliding pointer, the squeak of Killian’s pen on the floorboards, Mary Margaret’s quiet whisper, wrong.

In Brooke House, something clattered in the attic. The wardrobe doors bumped and groaned.

Emma’s eyes flew open.

Something was trying to get out.

Her heart began to thump wildly.

Come.

Listen.

She threw back the duvet and reached for her trainers.

Which was the last thing she could remember before she found herself stood in front of Brooke House.

Emma stumbled backwards, as if she were just now falling back into her own body and her knees felt weak with the strain of it, and dry leaves crunched underfoot. She was wearing her trainers. She was also still wearing her pyjama shirt and shorts, but had thrown a hoodie and a coat on over the top. Her legs were bare, and cold. In one hand she held a torch and the other was clenched into a fist at her side.

Why had she come here?

Something loud crashed inside the house, a shadow darted across the upstairs window.

Yes, Emma remembered now. She had come for her knife.

She always felt safer with that knife.

Climbing the front steps, slowly, her shoes sounded more muffled than usual. Before she had a chance to touch it the front door creaked open, beckoning her to step inside. She felt foggy, all – all lost, and what time was it, anyway? A dazed search of her pockets told her she hadn’t brought her cell phone. Why had she left without it? Why couldn’t she remember?

The by now familiar creak sounded from the landing. Emma was halfway up the staircase before she remembered setting her foot on the first step.

For a moment she felt Killian’s hand resting on the small of her back again, ready to steady her if she lost her balance, and she began to lean backwards into it – before it vanished and she had to jerk herself forward to avoid toppling down the stairs. Her hand was so tight on the banister that her knuckles had turned white. Right, Killian wasn’t there. Killian was at home, asleep.

Emma was in Brooke House.

The second floor was lit with tendrils of moonlight, dirty white and shapeless, crawling up the walls and stretching across the floor. The creak sounded again, and Emma gently opened the door to the room with the spinning wheel. As expected, the spinning wheel lay turning slowly on its axis by the soft press of the pedal underneath, except this time a man sat there, steadily feeding in pieces of straw until they came out as spun gold twine, which then pooled into a basket at the end. His face was obscured by the shadow of the windowsill, but he raised a hand in greeting before returning to his work.

She shook her head to try and confirm what she was seeing, and realised with a start that the door to the spinning wheel room was closed, and her hand was still poised above the handle. Had she opened it at all? She couldn’t remember. The old wood of the spinning wheel groaned behind the door and, firmly this time, Emma swung the door open inwardly. The wheel spun slowly – but on its own. Gone was the man, the spun gold, the straw. Only the empty dark and the dancing moonlight remained.

An odd noise jerked her attention away from the wheel, just as the light from her torch winked out. Now concerned, Emma smacked it against her palm a few times to try and knock the device back into working, but it did not respond. The sound came again, and to her ears it seemed like –

No, there it was again. She was sure.

It was a giggle.

High-pitched and delighted, something was laughing at her.

“Who’s there?” she said. Or did she?

She might have said: “I’m coming.”

Uncertain which she had said and which she had not said, Emma reached the end of the corridor and stood on her tiptoes so she could begin to scrabble with the door to the attic. The metal ring which would allow her to pull it down was just out of reach, but after she asked politely the panel dislodged from the ceiling by itself, and with it came the ladder. She rose one cautious step at a time, up into the black, and tried to remember why she was there.

Her knife, yes. She was coming for her knife. She had been just thirteen when she took it, lifting it from a set of tools a dockworker had left abandoned while he helped unload a seiner, and it had made Emma feel so dangerous to be holding it that she had immediately cradled it with both hands before making her escape. The blade was deadly sharp, far sharper than any knife she had seen in the group home or otherwise, and she had cut her hand while examining it later.

It had reminded her of herself. All along she had been afraid that one day someone might fall on her, and get hurt on all her sharp edges.

Another banner year, right?

What?

We’ve all got ghosts here.

As she reached the top her pulse began to race, and her heart turned her head and waited for her body to catch up. She ignored the desk, the vials, the shattered glass on the floor; like a string had been tied to the centre of her chest, made of hope and sadness and something wild, it propelled her forward to the darkest corner of the room. There, tucked into the downward slant of the roof, stood the wardrobe. It rattled in place, as if someone were stood behind and shaking it back and forth, and she could feel it.

She could feel it wanting, could feel it longing for her, and she longed for it right back. Breathless and exhilarated, she crossed the room in three short steps and knelt before it, hands reaching for the ornate handles on the doors. Darker swirls of colour spun out from the handles and almost seemed to move, curling delicately around her fingers.

Yes, they whispered, come.

Listen.

Emma tugged open the doors.

Which was the last thing she could remember before she found herself in her bed at the Nolan house, blinking against the hazy light of morning.

Once realisation struck Emma bolted upright, glancing wildly about her room. Her trainers were tucked against her dresser, her coat hung on the back of her door. There were leaves in her hair. Once she registered it was morning she scrambled for the clock at her bedside, which read 6.03am. Almost time to wake up for school.

Had she – had she dreamed it? The house?

It was already beginning to turn foggy and fade, the corners curling in on themselves with greater speed the more she tried to remember, like clutching at the tendrils of a dream that was vanishing out of sight. Everything was as it was.

Except for the knife.

Emma blinked, realising her left hand had been curled around the hilt of a very strange, very ornate knife – no. Dagger.

The hilt was black as pitch, and cool to touch, but the blade was what interested her the most. It’s edge was curved, as if it were blurring in and out of sight in the nature of a mirage, and was ornately patterned with twisting black shapes reaching all the way to its desperately sharp point. It was heavy, and unlike anything Emma had ever seen before.

But perhaps what intrigued her the most was the name emblazoned across it, written in an almost medieval cursive.

Weighty in both heft and emotional damage, Emma could scarcely believe it. What did it mean?

For written on it was a name she recognised. One they were all familiar with.

Liam Jones.

-/-

2nd May 2015 – Seven Months Later

David was the last to arrive by a couple of minutes. Although the air that night was cool, the day had been hot, and he was still dressed in the same t-shirt and shorts he had been wearing earlier. Killian couldn’t be more grateful for the drop in temperature – he could remember a time he had been a fan of the immortal summer, of scorching afternoons and ice cold drinks, it made him think of fly fishing in the lake in the middle of Memorial Park or setting off cheap fireworks by the docks that fizzled and burnt with the whole year’s lost potential. Last year he and Emma had borrowed Archie’s car and driven all the way to Portland, just so they could track down a lobster restaurant a traveller stopping in at Granny’s had told them about. They spent the entire afternoon searching until, tired and hungry, they’d picked up a few sandwiches from a convenience store and perched at the edge of the harbour, watching the boats roll in, and roll away again.

The whole day had been a bust. Killian couldn’t remember it being anything but perfect.

As the days stretched and he found himself looking for her amongst the sun-soaked streets of Storybrooke, summer became just one more thing he wanted no part of anymore.

“Is this going to take long?”

Mary Margaret’s voice jogged him back to the present, and Killian quickly jerked his head around to check nobody else was nearby. They had met at their usual spot, just a little ways into the north woods. Far enough that they would go unnoticed by any stray observer near the edge of the forest, but near enough that the distant sound of cars zooming past on the street could still be heard. Most of them were reluctant to venture any farther in now, if it could be avoided. Especially after dark.

Regina scoffed. “Why, are we keeping you from something?”

“My mom doesn’t like me being out late anymore,” Mary Margaret replied defensively. “I had to sneak out my window.”

“Well, our apologies for the inconvenience.” Unsurprisingly, Regina did not sound that sorry at all.

“Would you just stop?” David groused.

“Guys, please,” Killian interjected, wanting to cut them off before they could start getting too snippy. He turned his attention to Regina. “By the way, are you alright? I hear Humbert gave you a hard time yesterday.”

Regina had been collected from the school gates by Sheriff Humbert, in full view of everyone. He liked them to be observed when he decided to bring them in for another interview; it was one of his favourite tactics.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she shrugged. “It was the same questions as always.”

Why were you out in the woods? When did you see her last?

Is there anything you’re not telling us?

Smooth, long exhale.

Nothing, Sheriff Humbert.

“Good,” Killian answered, nodding slowly. “That’s good. And you, Mary Margaret? Did you get a chance to look for the house this week?”

They had been taking it in turns for the last few months, always making sure that they weren’t spotted together heading down the White Pine Trail, to investigate the place Brooke House had once stood. Ever since the first time they had been caught by Sheriff Humbert there, they had realised the man had started watching their every move in the weeks that followed Emma’s disappearance. Killian, especially, had scarcely been able to get away with taking an unusual route home from school without the sheriff picking up on it. The more time marched forward the less observed they felt, but they still stuck to the same precautions just to be sure.

It had been seven months since Emma had disappeared. Graham Humbert never let him forget it.

And with Emma, Brooke House had also vanished. Nothing stood at the end of the orange string trail Killian had once left anymore, only silence and torment.

Finding it again had to be their best chance at finding her. It was just that these days, finding felt a lot more like waiting.

Mary Margaret hadn’t answered him, so Killian flicked his eyes over. He could see her eyes were averted, jaw clenched. One of her shoes kept stringing up a restless beat on the floor for a few seconds at a time.

“Mary Margaret?”

She let out an almost irritated sigh. “No, Killian, I have not gone looking for the damn house.”

Killian blinked. “And what’s with the tone?”

“I have to study,” she burst, “I have AP tests in two weeks, and if I don’t pass I probably won’t be able to go to college. And instead, I’m disobeying my parents, standing in the middle of the woods and thinking about how much I don’t know about environmental science.”

Regina looked the way Killian felt; completely dumbfounded. “You’re thinking about exams right now?”

“It’s not just exams, Regina,” Mary Margaret insisted. “It’s my life. I want to make something of it one day, and I suggest you do the same.”

Something still had settled between them, as if Mary Margaret had started to lift the lid on something they had sworn to keep closed, and even the night around them was stiffening with anticipation. It was sacred ground on which their harsh words steered them, and it was impossible to discern where the line could be drawn between how to move forward, and how to avoid moving backward. At times they seemed to be the same thing, but somehow it was impossible to think of them the same way.

Emma had wanted to pass her exams too. Desperately, in fact. It had been so important to her that she be able to push off into the rest of her life in better straits than how she had been brought into it, and to that end she had often stayed up long into the night studying at the group home so she could avoid the noise and the steady stream of interruptions that came during the day. It was that which had prompted her to accept Ruth’s offering of a fostering, even after deciding long ago never to hand her heart out again to somebody she was sure would just return it later.

Killian had encouraged her; he had hoped she might find more at the Nolan house than a quiet place to work, and she had. She had found David, and with David came Mary Margaret, and Regina had fallen in as easily with them as she had with Killian and Emma years earlier. They had been a haphazard band, and for a year everything was warm and gold.

That was over now, and they had begun to splinter.

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

He heard her, always. Always, always.

“What about Emma?”

It was David who spoke, and he looked stricken to have even needed to say the words.

What about Emma? Was holding onto this, meeting clandestinely in the middle of the night to yet again swap how little progress they had made in getting her back – was this moving forward? Or was this trying so desperately not to move backward that they couldn’t keep their focus on anything ahead? Brooke House was never there when they looked for it. But Killian didn’t care about school, anyway. He’d had enough credits to graduate at the end of his junior year, before all of this. Every AP class he’d taken he had since dropped. Archie had barely been able to convince him to go to school for much of the year.

It didn’t matter to Killian, not a whisper; but was it okay for this to matter to someone else?

“Emma is gone,” Mary Margaret said, quietly. As if scared that they might hear her and yet desperate for them to. “And it’s…” She sucked in a sharp breath before continuing. “It’s devastating. But it’s – it’s been seven months. We have nothing. And more importantly, the police have nothing.” Killian could tell from a subtle movement in her fist that she was trembling. With fright, anger, sadness. Who could know for sure? “Finding Emma, if she can be found, should be up to them.”

Killian felt as if he’d been slapped. “How can you say that?”

“It’s their job, isn’t it?” she bit back. “And the more I think about that night… the more we feed into that – that hysteria, or – or whatever we thought we saw – the less help we’re being to them. The police, I mean.”

Killian felt his temper rising. He knew what he had seen – they had all seen it, although for reasons Killian couldn’t fathom, it had become a matter of spirited debate between Mary Margaret and David, and he and Regina.

“We never should have lied,” Mary Margaret continued firmly. “We should have told them everything from the start, about the house, about all of it.”

“They would have told us we were crazy,” Regina pointed out. “Hell, I would have called you crazy if I hadn’t seen it myself.”

“But at least I wouldn’t feel like this!” Mary Margaret’s voice cracked on the last syllable, and the bite in her expression had crumpled. She was all melancholy, draped in it like an old cloak, where in their group she had always been warmth. Everything was twisted now, like none of it could ever be light again. “Like I have this weight, poised above my head, and I’m just waiting for it to – to fall and crush me. And it hurts.” She clutched at her throat, eyes wide and sad. “And I’m breathless, and scared. All the time. And sometimes – sometimes I don’t realise I’ve forgotten that it’s there, but then I look up –”

David had taken a few steps closer to her, and put his arm around her shoulders. She curled into it and buried her face into his chest for a few moments, shaking, while he murmured something neither Killian nor Regina could hear. They couldn’t find the words to interject.

After a few long moments she gathered herself, her fist clenching into David’s shirt.

“It’s this lie,” she said fiercely, speaking into the solidness of David’s form, sounding as wretched as she looked. “And this feeling that if – if we’d just told the truth then they would have found something, and they would have found her.”

The accusation was softly cushioned, and gently aimed, but Killian felt it with the keen force of any blow.

“They wouldn’t have found her,” he answered evenly. They couldn’t. “It’s up to us.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Of course you would say that.”

Killian’s temper flared. “Excuse me?”

“It clearly doesn’t bother you, Killian, but I’m just saying – if I could do this again I wouldn’t lie.”

I wouldn’t tell the lie you told me to tell.

The lie he had told them tell to protect them.

Humbert’s hard expression flashed in front of him.

Your friends say she was with you when she went missing. That you were the last one to see her.

“I wouldn’t either,” David added quietly.

Disbelief marred everything, it made everything black as tar – was this really what it was all coming to? Rounding on him?

“And what would you have told them?” Killian shot back. When David grimaced he pressed on. “No, really, I’m interested to know what you would have told the sheriff about the haunted house and the magic dagger.”

“Stop that,” Mary Margaret snapped, “it’s not magic.”

“Then how the bloody hell do you explain it? Explain this?”

With intent, Killian reached into his jacket and pulled out the dagger. Its curving edges glittered dangerously in the dim light, and in a movement so quick he might have imagined it he thought he saw Regina reach out a hand to take it, before snatching it back. The intricate pattern engraved onto the blade was one he had memorised from long nights spent staring at its edges, begging for it to reveal its secrets. The inky black writing crafted beautifully on top spoke of everything they had lost – the truth they all knew, and the only tangible proof that forces greater than themselves were at work.

The name carved across it was clear: Emma Swan.

Like a spell, it brought with it an almost supernatural quiet. Mary Margaret had begun to weep silently, and she shrugged away from David’s touch this time. Regina watched but did not speak. David couldn’t bear to do more than glance at the dagger, a pained expression on his face clear before he turned to look out into the forest.

“This is how we know she’s still out there,” Killian insisted fiercely. “We can’t give up now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

For a little while, the only noise was Mary Margaret, trying to suppress a gasp or wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. After some time, she sank down to perch on a nearby log and Regina joined her, threading their fingers together tightly. In the distance Killian could hear the rumble of the road, the sound of an engine increasing in volume before skittering away. Although reluctantly, he slipped the dagger back into the inside pocket of his jacket, and the blade was cool against his chest even through the fabric of his shirt. A cold comfort, but a comfort all the same.

“The truth is,” Mary Margaret began quietly, staring at the mossy ground at their feet. “I want to grieve. I loved Emma. I want to treasure her memory… I want the chance to miss her.” She lifted misty eyes and looked at each of them in turn. “But it’s impossible around all of you. For you she’s still here. But I want to keep moving forward.” She brushed a hand across a tear-stained cheek. “Will you – will you let me do that?”

With quiet strength, she dug the stake into the earth. Beneath it, they cracked.

She stood. There wasn’t anything else to say.

She looked impossibly guilty, and Killian searched for something to say that would deliver her from that, but all of it felt brittle and fake. The honest truth was that he loved her and wanted nothing but her happiness, but he might never forgive her if she walked out of that clearing now.

Mary Margaret looked to all of them, but it was Killian’s gaze she sought most eagerly. He couldn’t give it, staring stonily at the ground instead.

“I’ll… I’ll see you.”

She didn’t say at school, since he wouldn’t be going anyway and they both knew it. Recklessly, he thought that without it there might not be another excuse for their paths to cross. If she wanted to keep moving forward and leave all this in the past, then Killian would not be going with her. Dry leaves crunched as she departed, slowly receding until the only sound was the breeze whistling by.

“I’m not giving up. No way.”

It was Regina who had spoken, and Killian felt a wave of unreserved tenderness for her.

Her face softened, and she stepped over to lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“She’ll come around.”

She wouldn’t, but it was easier to pretend.

After Regina had gone Killian sat on the damp earth underneath him, leaning his head back to stare through the canopy. The trees had clustered together here, dark shapes towering over through which he could spot the stars winking in and out.

David shifted from where he stood. “Are you okay?”

Killian let out a long breath, one that he felt like he had been holding onto for a number of days. His chest felt tight, and he could feel a familiar tugging sensation behind his nose as the stars started to swim before him.

“Belle died. Yesterday.”

David let out a soft expletive. “I’m so sorry, Killian.”

“It was peaceful,” he nodded to himself, like it made everything fine. “In her sleep.”

Belle had been a great source of comfort for him. She talked in circles and remembered very little, but she remembered Liam and often asked after Emma, and had lived a deep and fulfilling life she loved to tell him about. It did her good to talk, the nuns had said, which was why they let him come. Every character in all of her stories was long gone now, but it didn’t cause her any pain. She spoke only of the joy in having known them and the colours with which they had brushed her soul. It didn’t matter how lonely it looked now, or how sad everyone else thought she must be to be alone; she had assured him many times that she was lucky, and wanted for little else.

He wanted desperately to feel like that, even if only for a heartbeat.

Sometimes, she had said with a smile, the best books have the dustiest jackets.

“It just feels like everything is slipping away.”

Mary Margaret, Belle. Liam. Emma. Everything he touched was dust.

Don’t tell me – it’s hot cocoa, with cinnamon, and you’re about to hand it over.

A hot tear spilled down his cheek and he angrily swiped it away.

He cleared his throat loudly, mostly to try and cover the sudden rush of emotion, but he knew that David had seen it. “Sometimes I can’t help but think… maybe it’s all in my head, you know? The more I think about that night the hazier it gets.” Like trying to remember a dream after you’d woken from it, every single day more details faded into nothing. “I just hear her.” That final, startled scream. It would never leave him, he just knew it. “All I can hear is her.”

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

“Me too,” David admitted quietly. “I hear it too.”

“I’m leaving,” he said suddenly, and with the confession came a twinge of relief, and he forgave himself a little more for it. “Right after graduation. I have to find an answer, and there isn’t one here.”

He’d go as far as needed, for as long as it took. He’d walk the stretch of the Earth if he had to.

For a moment David looked crestfallen, but he mastered it quickly. “I understand,” he said. And he might think he did – but David would never be looked at the way Storybrooke looked at Killian. In their eyes he would never be blameless, not the way the David Nolan was. Emma was his sister; she was just Killian’s victim.

“I’d go too,�� David continued, “but my mom… it’s just hard, you know? I feel like there’s so much she doesn’t know. And I couldn’t…”

“I know,” Killian assured him, “it’s alright. I wouldn’t ask you to come.” It was something he would rather do alone.

A few moments of stillness passed, before David let out a low whistle.

“So. Right after graduation, huh?”

Killian nodded. June twenty-third, 18:00.

There was a bus to Augusta that he had promised he would not miss.

-/-

Present Day

As night fell, Killian again returned to Brooke House.

He had already spent much of the day there with Regina, taking readings, burning herbs and mumbling variations on familiar incantations from her book of shadows. There were a few key vocabularic differences, but the intention behind a few spells seemed similar to some he had seen from the coven in Pennsylvania. Just once they had let him sit in on a cleansing ceremony, a practice of healing for the soul, and he could recognise some of the actions as Regina guided him through a ritual for cleansing the air in the house. Smudging, she called it. But by the time they had departed in late afternoon, visibly nothing had changed within the house.

After grabbing a quick bite at Granny’s Killian had spent the remainder of early evening categorically working through all the other data he had been able to gather over the course of the day; and not one instrument had indicated anything outside of the realms of a normal abandoned house. In fact, most of the anomalous readings one could expect from a long period of constant use (a sudden spike in electromagnetic radiation, a noise in static on a recorder where there had been none aloud) were completely non-existent. Brooke House was as silent as the dead other than the sounds he and Regina made. It were as if they were measuring nothing at all.

No doubt, that was its intention.

He expected much to be different in the dark.

Again, he left the dagger rolled up in his scarf in his car, not wanting to bring it any closer to Emma – or to whatever Emma was. They were clearly linked, the spectre of the house and the dagger, and he had to believe that somewhere buried in there was his Emma. She retained the same memories, even if she warped them for her use. She recognised him. It was her name on the dagger.

He had taken the dagger to three different psychometrists over the years, seeking insight. Each one had only been able to tell him that its origin was evil, that its master was lost.

Even Killian could have surmised that much.

“Emma?” he called, as he stepped over the threshold. Only creaks of old wood answered back.

He lingered briefly in the sitting room, checking his old tape recorder that he had left running, tucked under the sheet of one of the armchairs as gently as possible. He wanted to avoid the possibility of muffling any sound while also trying to prevent its detection from any nefarious spirits that chose not to make a sound while he and Regina were there. All he needed was some kind of proof that something in the house moved when it was left to its own devices. In the morning he would return for it and listen for any erroneous sound.

As if reading his thoughts, an audible thump came from above him. He headed back out into the hall. For now, Killian decided to pocket the recorder and return it after he’d come to say what he meant to.

Again Killian called Emma’s name, mounting the stairs slowly. Once he reached the top he spotted the flash of white fabric trailing along the floor, disappearing into one of the rooms on the landing. Aside from the room with the spinning wheel that never faltered, Killian hadn’t spent much time in the other two rooms. One was a bedroom and the other a study, boasting only a desk and a wall lined with ancient, brittle bookcases, the tomes atop them turned grey with age with faded and illegible titles. It was into the study that he had seen her go, so Killian opened the door cautiously so as not to startle her away.

The bottom shelf of the bookcase nearest the door had collapsed, the books falling into a haphazard clump onto the floor. A dust cloud still lingered so he imagined it couldn’t have happened too long ago; he wondered if that was the noise he had heard from downstairs.

Emma stood with her back to him, the rustle of pages the only indication that she was moving. Then, without warning, she swung her right arm back and hurtled the book against the wall. The binding tore with a snap, and in pieces it clattered down onto the ground. Killian, reluctant to become a target for one of those heavy missiles, cleared his throat to announce himself, but quickly tucked the tape recorder subtly into one of the bookcases as he did so. He didn’t want her to catch it on him.

Emma turned, her jade eyes sharp in the gloom. As always, they cut right through him.

“Have you decided?” she said, her voice as heavy as stone.

Killian didn’t answer immediately, but tried to look at her more critically. What was he seeing? Just what he wanted to see, or something more?

Regina’s warning repeated itself over and over. What if this is something else, just taking the shape of Emma? And appealing to those made most vulnerable by the sight of her?

“Why didn’t you show yourself to Regina?”

They had been at Brooke House all day, there was ample opportunity. Not a creature had stirred out of place, as if the house had been holding its breath and waiting for them to leave. That meant one of two things – Emma did not think Regina could help with what she wanted, or there was nothing of Emma to show.

Emma lifted a shoulder in a half shrug and turned back to the bookcase. She picked up another book, and began lazily flipping through its contents.

That, too, found itself tossed to the edge of the room.

“I didn’t feel like it.” She reached for another.

“Come here,” he said, before he felt he’d truly made the decision. “Let me look at you.”

She turned slowly to stare at him; it was clear in her expression that she was unaccustomed to receiving orders, and was flirting with the idea of being furious, or going along with it. Keeping her eyes locked on his she discarded her final book, letting it flutter onto the floor, and started to walk towards him. It felt distinctly like being stalked by a predator, and he resisted the urge to step back when she came to a stop in front of him, looking up.

Instead he steeled his resolve, and lifted his thumb and forefinger to her chin. Her skin was glacial to the touch, pale and smooth. Like marble.

Applying a little pressure, Killian turned her head first to one side, then to the other. She allowed him, her eyes continuing to follow him intently. Up close, she looked human. With a little more colour in her cheeks she would look just like he remembered her. Would it even be possible, he wondered, for him to conjure up something so near to perfection? Was he capable? Could he really have imagined this?

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed sadly, brushing his fingers along her jaw, stilling them when they reached the tip of her neck.

Emma tensed underneath him. “What for?”

The list was unending.

“All of it.”

Something flickered across her expression, but it had moved too quickly for him to notice it. A blackened petal dropped from the circlet around her head, and became tangled in her hair. Without thinking, Killian gently tugged it loose.

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

A cold hand came to rest over his. Then, to his surprise, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes and leaned forward. Too shocked to move, Killian froze in place as she reached him. Like the rest of her, her lips were icy to touch, and moved gently against his like the purl of the ocean against the sand. His eyes stayed open but he could see hers had fluttered closed – she looked unarmed. Gentle. Like a girl.

She pulled back because he did not know how to keep her, and he could feel now that he was trembling. He was cold, his heart ached with grief, and he was furious.

That was a kiss that he had been saving, and she had taken it.

He opened his mouth to rattle off a rebuke, but something in her manner had changed. Her brows had knitted a little closer together, her lips parted – even her eyes looked as if they might have dulled from their usual startling shade.

Recognition fluttered across her features. She blinked slowly. “Killian?”

Killian’s heart began to hammer against his ribcage. Hope stuttered to life with every beat, but he tried to remain cautious. Something was different, he was sure of it, and now he wished he had been paying closer attention to her before so he might able to more clearly see now what had changed.

He watched her warily. “Emma?”

It happened in painfully slow motion. Her eyes glazed over, she turned herself away, something that had been out of alignment clicked back into place. In an almost unnatural way her head tilted, and began to stare at him with those new, wide eyes.

Her lips curled in a snarl. “That’s enough of that.”

A rush of air blew past him and she was gone, but Killian, exhilarated and almost breathless, couldn’t let her go.

“Wait, I –” He caught her in the hallway, her hand resting on the door to the spinning wheel room. She whirled around to face him expectantly, eyes ablaze. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”

The corner of her mouth curved upwards, a smirk rising into place.

Killian swallowed. He’d been at her mercy since the moment he laid eyes on her.

“Just… tell me what you need me to do.”

#jay writes #a house is never still #cs role reversal #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #cs au #cs halloweek #gonna go ahead and still tag those #killian jones #emma swan #I hope you guys like this!#also those on the taglist must feel free to tell me to jog on #hahaha

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allie1804-fan · 4 years ago

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The Middle of the Road (Chapter 16)

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 , 9, 10, 11 , 12, 13 14 , 15

Warnings: None

September 2024 – Toronto Emily and Keanu flopped down on the bed in their room at the apartment they were renting in Toronto for the week of The Toronto International Film Festival. They had just arrived from LA and were travel weary. He had just had his 60th birthday and would be receiving a Tribute award at the festival, a great honour for any film maker but an especially treasured one for Keanu who had grown up in the city. He remembered when the festival used to take place in his neighbourhood of Yorkville in the late 70s so the whole event was very close to his heart.

The whole family had decamped from LA including their Nanny Maria which would enable them to attend the evening events as well as do some promotion. Keanu had done voice work in a film being premiered there which had a U certificate so they would all attend the afternoon screening. They were taking a bit of a risk with Hannah but Emily or the nanny would be able to take her or Johnny out if either of them got unsettled.

After they had rested up a bit, they all went out to a local Italian restaurant around the corner from the apartment and enjoyed a simple relatively quick meal before getting the babies back home to bed. The next morning found Keanu and Emily enjoying some free time looking around his old haunts – he’d shown her his home in Yorkville, his elementary school, ice hockey stadium, the Leah Poslun Theatre and the location of his first kiss!

“Right there?”? Emily was pointing with an aghast expression on her face at a dingy alley behind a bike rack at the back of an old Walgreens store.

“Yup – I know. I’ve got a bit classier in my old age I hope you agree.”

“And what was her name?”

“Angela”

“Now THAT is a 70s name if ever I heard one. I guess at least your name is just totally unique and not linked to an era like some”

“She was sweet – but not long lasting!” Anyway, I think that is the complete high, and low, lights for you. We better get back and get some lunch before this afternoon’s shenanigans” He was referring to the premiere of his film which was an afternoon affair so kids could attend. Some local children would attend as well as press and the stars and their families. Johnny and Hannah would be there – with the exit strategy of mum or nanny if it was too much. They had watched films at home and had quite good attention spans but Hannah had only been in a movie theatre once and so was a bit if an unknown quantity behaviour wise.

It was also to be their first red carpet as a family. They had kept the children well shielded so far but, accepting that complete privacy wasn’t realistic, they had decided to attend this premiere all together. They all dressed in smart casual clothes rather than the suits and ballgown style of Oscars and that was needed given they would have the kids next to them snacking on ice cream! The press and fans were enthralled with the kids, both dark haired and with big brown eyes strongly favouring Keanu but with the delicacy of Emily’s features. After letting her walk on wobbly legs for a little while, Keanu scooped Hannah up and carried her while Emily walked with Jonathan and Marie brought the buggy and a change bag just in case. Hannah loved waving at everyone and fans called her name which made her laugh. Johnny joined in with waving too, sensing that this was something special but not really at all clear what. It was going to be a while before they understood that their Dad wasn’t just special to them!

The kids enjoyed the film and made it through the whole hour and half without a melt down to everyone’s relief.

That evening Emily and Keanu appeared on a panel about a project they were working on together. There were inevitable questions about how husband and wife could work together which they fended off deftly - working together was after-all how they met and it felt easy compared to parenting and they were glad to keep the topic work focussed. In the next couple of days they each took part in other promo for their work and had a meal out, just the two of them. There they talked about the award show that would be the following night.

“You nervous?” Emily asked as she sipped her coffee.

“Am I ever!” He groaned. “All that intention is intense – I’m used to parts of it – the red carpet, the photos, being filmed in the audience, even being on stage handing out awards or receiving a less significant gong but such focus, and a speech – phew, it’s crazy”

“It’s what you deserve honey, you know that inside don’t you”

He shook his head,

“It’s an honour, such an honour but, no, I don’t know it – it just feels surreal”

“Well just try to enjoy it if you can, hun – OK?, Want to run through the speech back at the apartment?”

“Sure, that would be great to have a writer’s input”

The award day came and they passed as much of it as they could focussing on the kids, taking them to one of the lakeside beaches for playtime and a picnic but eventually time came for the ‘dressing up game’ as Keanu called it. Both of them would spend a few hours being “made beautiful” for the cameras with stylists primping and polishing their hair, clothes and make up to within an inch of their lives. They left the children with Maria and they would tune in later to see Mommy and Daddy on the TV walking the red carpet.

Emily was wearing a stunning sleeveless, full length taffeta gown in red and her birthday necklace to match her ruby engagement ring and Keanu was in the tux he’d worn to the 2020 Oscars. Emily’s palms were sweaty even before they left to go to the theatre. She’d attended public occasions before where there were paparazzi but only one awards show about 4 years ago so she was nervous of the attention, especially as the news of their marriage was still quite fresh.

As they climbed out of the car, Keanu whispered in her ear “Just imagine everyone naked” before they started to make their way up the red carpet, making her giggle and relax just a little.

“I feel like the wives in Apollo 13, if they ask me anything. I’ll just say “I’m proud, happy and thrilled”

“Are you likening me getting an award to going to the moon or a life-threatening mission?!”

“the former for you and maybe the latter for me!”

At first she held Keanu’s arm in a death grip but gradually she relaxed especially as she saw the smiling faces in the crowd and she saw Keanu relax too, signing photos, DVDs and books and posing for photos. Several fans encouraged her to pose alongside him, surprising her. It seemed some people were happy to see him happy with his marriage and kids and thus welcomed her with open arms.

There were a few reporters on the red carpet who stopped them for a few words. Keanu made her laugh, though she tried to hold it in, when he responded to the question of how he was feeling to be receiving the Tribute Award.

“Well I’m proud, happy and thrilled” he said, giving Emily a wink which made the laughter bubble to the surface. They moved on and at last made it into the auditorium and were shown to their seats.

There were several other awards before his but at last it was time for his big moment.

The presentation started with a show reel with clips from his most famous movies as well as some of his lesser known early ones which made him blush. He leaned over and whispered to Emily

“At least they’re not showing the Coke and cornflakes ads!”

After the reel, there were some video clips from some of his directors and co-stars praising – his work, his character and his work ethic. There was Chad Stahelski, Sandy Bullock, Carrie-Ann Moss and Lilly Wachowski. Then it was time for the award itself which Lana Wachowski presented. As he walked up to the stage, the whole auditorium stood, clapping and cheering. He was right, Emily thought, this was really overwhelming! She dabbed a tear away as he took his place at the podium and took a moment to let the applause fade.

“Firstly let me say a huge thank you for this great, great honour - to receive this in the city where I spent my formative years is really very special so thank you.”

More applause erupted then quickly subsided allowing him to continue.

“I owe this award to many other people - first and foremost, I’d like to pay tribute to my mom for believing in me all those years ago when I asked her one day, would it be ok if I was an actor and she simply said ‘whatever you want son’.

And thanks must also go of course to the teachers and directors at the schools where I did plays and at the Leah Posluns Theatre where I really began to learn my craft- thank you for lighting the fire.

Looking back, the reel you showed just now only served to remind me how much I love movies. And a key reason over the years for that love and indeed for much of my success has been the joy of collaboration when making them. Collaboration with many wonderful directors, actors, cinematographers, stunt coordinators, make-up artists, caterers, runners to name but a few is what I thrive on. And they have all made me look good. And I know sometimes I’ve made my fellow actors look good too by how bad I was! Special thanks to Winona and Gary in that regard!

And I can’t forget the writers, for one thing my wife would never forgive me if I didn’t give them a mention.”

Keanu looked over and caught Emily’s eye as she sat in the front row beaning with pride.

“Writers have gifted me some amazing, memorable characters, some of them coming back time and again like Ted, Neo and John Wick. And I think special thanks are due for all the Johns, Johnny’s and Jacks and the quarterback punks that have been a recurring theme for me and such fun to play.

So I love movies and I love the opportunity they give me to tell stories.

But this year, as I hit a big milestone birthday, I am in a new phase in my life and I’m planning on being focussed less on the stories in films and more on my own story. Over the years, my fellow actors and the crews have been like family to me, a band of brothers and sisters if you will. But 5 years ago I met and fell in love with a wonderful woman and she became my family. Then 2 years ago we became parents - and now there are 4 of us. And this year I also became a husband - in all these things as you can probably tell I was a late starter!

So whilst I’m not retiring, going forward I can’t and I don’t want to be the man who is all work and no play. I want to be with my beautiful wife and my kids as they grow and play my part in guiding them in their lives, in their story.

And hopefully, I’ll bring the riches of that experience of being a parent and a husband to my future roles.

Thank you”

There was rapturous applause at this end to his speech and Emily found herself crying once again at his very public commitment to a more balanced life for them all going forward.

Keanu took his leave, heading back stage where there would be a few interviews to do before he could re-join Emily and head onto the after-party. There was a brief break in proceedings and Emily made her way back stage to meet up with him.

Keanu was just taking his leave from one of the news teams when he glimpsed Emily weaving her way between the throngs of stage hands, actors and publicists.

He headed in her direction and indicated a small alcove to the side to aim for. She reached it first and waited for him to join her, his progress being slowed by people stopping to congratulate him on his award and speech. When he finally got there, she threw he arms around his neck.

“That was, just, just”

“Wow have I actually rendered you speechless?” he laughed.

“You didn’t share THAT part of the speech!”

“You mean the bit about marrying a wonderful woman and sharing my story with her?”

“yes that part, you sneaky devil, you made me cry”

“Happy tears I hope?”

“Yes!” she smiled planting a kiss on his smiling lips.

@penwieldingdreamer @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @ladyreapermc @witty-wallflower @gatsbynouvel @bitchyslut99 @keanureevesisbae @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @kindainlovewithkeanu @paperplanesandwallflowers

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu #keanu reeves #keanu reeves ofc

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whatifitscool · 4 years ago

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Recapping the brief history of the TNT Championship – Promoting new talent or securing the legacy of Cody Rhodes?

by Tim

For the month of April 2020, AEW held another tournament in their debut year to determine who would go to the finals at the Double or Nothing PPV for the newly announced TNT Championship. Unfortunately, COVID-19 had affected promotions worldwide and forced AEW to tape multiple episodes without a live crowd, including the entirety of this tournament. Despite this, AEW still delivered their quality product and viewers were treated weekly to the joy that is professional wrestling. Demonstrating that they are the leader of the wrestling industry, AEW were the first to use their own talent to make up for the lack of crowds; a move that has since been imitated by WWE.

A mid-card title on the level of highly coveted championships like the Intercontinental Championship would potentially offer newer stars the possibilities of further exposure in AEW while simultaneously developing the competitiveness of their burgeoning mid-card. Has the introduction of the championship been a success? Has it given opportunities to younger talent? Or has it only been a showcase for Cody Rhodes?

The tournament brought together significant names in the AEW ranks who had graced our screens or were in matches on PPVs but up until that point, they had not been considered as being realistic contenders to any of AEW's then-current championships. The only exception to have competed for the AEW World Championship was Cody. Sammy Guevara, Darby Allin and Kip Sabian are dynamic additions to the AEW line up and each have considerable followings due to their efforts in the independent scene. The other competitors included veterans Dustin Rhodes, Shawn Spears, new signee Colt Cabana and perhaps the most exciting of this year's signings - Lance Archer.

Prior to the tournament taking place, Cody was forced to relinquish his ability to challenge for the AEW heavyweight title due to interference from MJF. Though this was resolved in a serviceable match, Cody would quickly meet his next challenges – firstly with the arrival of Jake Roberts. When introduced to the Dynamite faithful, Jake would deliver a cutting and scintillating promo to announce that he had a client. The man is truly a gift with words and his role as harbinger prior to the arrival of Lance Archer was inspired. Archer's introduction was as a part of the crowd with Manager Roberts. They didn't introduce him by way of a sneak attack a la Moxley (though this was amazing), Jake Hager or Proud and Powerful, to name a few. What has been consistently great about AEW's feuds is how varied they are. Where Cody has been concerned, there's almost always been a slow burn build with teases of betrayal and trials to endure, culminating with an eventual confrontation – with the way his feuds have been presented, Cody has been positioned as the baby face of the company.

Regarding the path of the eventual finalists, viewers would see Cody in a competitive match-up against Darby Allin however the weak transition from Cody taking a Coffin Drop into what looked like an attempt at a crucifix pin hurt the quality of that match's finish. A more interesting match in Cody's path to the TNT Championship final was against the reliable Shawn Spears who kicked out at the 2-count after taking two successive Cross-Rhodes finishers, only allowing his shoulders to stay on the mat for the 3-count while he was held in the Figure Four. Storyline-wise, it teased that perhaps Cody's Cross-Rhodes wasn't as effective.

Enter Lance Archer. Despite his matches going for more than 10 minutes each, the build-up of the Murderhawk as a monster was nothing short of convincing. In his match against Colt Cabana, he laughed off strikes, delivered a pounce that sent the not-diminutive Cabana across the ring before eventually carrying him from the top turnbuckle and delivering a thunderous Blackout. In his match against Dustin Rhodes, he would showcase an impressive arsenal that included power and acrobatic moves while also teasing the ineffectiveness of the Cross-Rhodes when he kicked out at 1. QT would offer to throw in the towel on Dustin's behalf before Cody would come in to offer the same, only to watch as his brother was forced unconscious by the EBD Claw.

Is Cody a fan of Rocky 4? Many have probably drawn comparisons between this feud and Stallone's classic with Cody and Dustin filling the roles of Rocky and Apollo, respectively. Especially when Cody didn’t throw in the towel and watched while his brother fell. Arguments could be made that Archer filled the role of the towering Ivan Drago, albeit with a more sadistic side as he relentlessly taunted and tormented the younger Rhodes in the lead-up to their confrontation.

Rocky 4 comparisons aside, another highlight in this feud was the meeting between their managers. Arn Anderson would memorably say to Jake Roberts, “I want you to be real limber when I Spinebuster your ass and shove your head where the sun don’t shine.” Fantastic!

With the emotional stakes raised along with the motivation to avenge his brother, the showdown was set for Double or Nothing where Cody and Archer would collide in the final to decide who would be crowned the inaugural TNT Champion. Fitting for his monster-status, Archer entered the arena by choke slamming some poor soul while accompanied by Jake Roberts. Cody entered, accompanied as always by the Head Coach of the Nightmare Family, Arn Anderson. They convincingly played this as a tough bout for Cody. Suiting his in-ring persona as the baby face, he was on the receiving end of a lot of punishment. Almost shortly after the first bell rang, Archer hit him with a Blackout. Notable highlights included when Cody pulled out the DDT on Archer. Archer later responded with a Spinebuster. Great bits of fan service for new and old fans alike. But when all was said and done, Cody won after hitting Archer with two consecutive Cross Rhodes.

It was a David vs Goliath (Rocky vs Drago) bout and although I’ve read some criticism that the match was too long for Archer, I do enjoy lengthier paced battles. The length of the match was suitable because they needed the time to tell the story, to show a physical bout, to continue selling that Archer was a believable monster and Cody had to demonstrate his resilience in order to overcome adversity and capture a championship. And when the dust settled, AEW moved on to the next storyline, which set up one of the most interesting schedules for a wrestler I’ve ever seen.

The Fighting Champion

Addressing the viewer, Cody delivered another in a line of charismatic promos drawing parallels between himself and Tom Brady and how he was never the first call. Holding up four fingers, he declared that he would turn a pace and cut a schedule like no wrestler before and issue an open challenge. Cody would like to retire by the time he’s 40 and with the pace he was talking, I couldn’t help but think of a repeated phrase in Hamilton, “why do you write like you’re running out of time”. Cody’s going through matches and maybe even storylines like he’s “running out of time.”

I’ve seen Cody deliver a promo live when he attended a show in Australia. A show he couldn’t participate in due to an injury. A show he didn’t have to attend. But he came down anyway and the audience was appreciative of him showing up. He is passionate and genuine about his love for the business and after his promo about the TNT Championship Open Challenge, I was keen to see him show – together with AEW’s roster – what they could offer bell to bell. This was not going to be shenanigans on the level of a certain 24/7 championship.

The first challenger for Cody’s TNT Championship would be Jungle Boy. This made sense based on his impressive performance against MJF at Double or Nothing. The match up was not overly long and allowed both competitors a chance to show off their skills. MJF would also factor into this match slightly when he was seen mouthing off to Jungle Boy, jealous that Jungle Boy got a title shot before he did. Cody would show colour in the match and the two later crashed through a table, leaving Arn’s jaw on the floor. Including Arn’s facial expressions in the broadcast adds to the presentation of these matches as they either tell a story or echo the audience’s reactions. Cody would win this match in 10:11 after he dropped Jungle Boy with a Cross Rhodes, spiking him somewhat in the process. Though Jungle Boy was unsuccessful, it showcased the young man’s potential. Please give him a solid singles run soon and pick up on his feud with MJF. These two clearly worked so well with each other and there’s further matches to explore with their natural chemistry.

In an interesting match-up, Private Party tag-team member Mark Quen would receive the opportunity to challenge next. Prior to AEW, I hadn’t seen anything Mark Quen had done but this kept things fresh by giving him a singles opportunity. In their debut year, AEW undoubtedly have reels upon reels of highlights and I think Quen delivering an amazing 450 splash onto Cody on the ring platform should be one of them. In the closing minutes, they also delivered a crisp reversal when Quen went for a shooting star press that was caught by Cody who immediately applied an ankle lock. Beautiful work from both and Quen would be forced to submit in 11:43. Cody had overpowered yet another competitor but allowed them some time to shine. No sooner had the show of sportsmanship ended that Jake Hager would appear, entering the ring and eventually putting hands on Arn, backing him into the corner. He would then toss Cody and powerslam him before Private Party and Matt Hardy would save him. The Inner Circle sans Jericho would also show up to help. Once the referees broke this up, Cody got on the mic and said, “Jake, I think I know what you’re asking. You want a TNT title match at Fyter? Is that what you want? You got it!” A very quick progression from the match that just finished and the announcement of their upcoming clash overshadowed the next match in Cody’s march to Fyter Fest.

That booking all but guaranteed that the next person to challenge Cody would lose. Prior to their introduction, Arn noted that the next person to challenge was checked out by him and he was someone that Cody could take it to and hone his skills. Side observation: Again, is Cody or the writers’ fans of the Rocky series? I couldn’t help but draw parallels between Arn Anderson and trainer Mickey Goldmill in Rocky 3 who was handpicking talent for the champ to fight.

This lead to the then-hottest free agent’s introduction to AEW. And it was a very organic introduction to Absolute Ricky Starks. The former NWA World Television Champion has been broke but as he declared, he has work ethic and grit and he was ready to go the distance. May I say that Ricky Starks has awesome ring entrance music? It’s so good!

During their match, a story was still being told. While AEW was demonstrating that they’d opened their doors to competitors from any promotion, there were multiple cuts to Jake Hager intently watching the match to study Cody’s moves, developing the next feud. Starks would prove a nimble and savvy competitor, scouting and preventing a Cross Rhodes attempt as well as preventing a moonsault and hitting a superplex. After they traded several pins, Cody would eventually hit a thunderous Cross Rhodes to win the match at 08:34. Though this was the shortest of Cody’s TNT title defences, Starks was enjoyable to watch. He was so impressive that he was offered a contract with AEW shortly after the conclusion of their match.

At Fyter Fest, Cody and Hager would collide in a match where there was an answer for almost every single one of Cody’s moves with the MMA specialist countering most submissions as well. No Cross Rhodes was landed during this match. I also liked Excalibur calling out the Vader Bomb with Jericho then correcting him and saying that it is the Hager Bomb. Hader Bomb? Cody also hit a beautifully delayed springboard cutter. In the closing minutes Cody would crawl to the ropes while held in an ankle lock, being slapped silly by Catalina in the process. Arn would run interference with the referee while Dustin sprinted out to engage Hager. Hager fought him off. Hager would eventually hit Cody with the uranage and apply a choke but Cody would use his weight to keep Hager’s shoulders pinned to the mat for the 3 count at 14:15. A creative way to finish, seeing Cody retain while protecting Hager as the (mostly) undefeated MMA monster that he is.

The Arrogant Champion

Storyline-wise, Cody’s character was being painted as somewhat invincible with his ability to overcome any opponent and on the 15/07/2020 episode, the signs of the overconfident champion began to creep in. This was evident in his aggressive start against Sonny Kiss and the arrogance was on display when he opted to do a set of push-ups in the ring instead of keeping his head in the game. Cody would lose control of the match and Arn would chew him out by saying, “Get your head out of your ass!” There was another great shot of an Arn reaction, wincing as he saw Sonny Kiss deliver a huge axe kick into Cody’s back. Cody missed a lot of his offence because Sonny had him scouted. This was most evident when Sonny countered out of a Cross Rhodes to deliver one of his own. Arn would later breathe a visible sigh of relief when Cody kicked out of a 450.

Not even an Alabama Slam on the entrance platform, superplex or cross face could put Sonny Kiss away and Cody’s frustration showed, arguing with referee Aubrey Edwards, yelling out after each near fall, hitting more vicious attacks and even taking the top turnbuckle cover off. After getting slapped around by Sonny, Cody eventually hit a furious Cross Rhodes to end the bout in 10:44. Despite the unsportsmanlike conduct during the match, Rhodes still had time for a hug at the end and raised Sonny Kiss’ arm in respect. A courageous effort from the Concrete Rose whose tag team with Joey Janela needs more exposure on the main show.

The following night, Eddie Kingston would make his way out to challenge for the title, delivering an incendiary promo befitting the Mad King. He is a magnetic personality and an amazing addition to AEW. During his captivating promo, he not only threatened Arn but was successful in goading Cody into a no-DQ match and there was nothing technical in what transpired next. This was presented as a brawl with Kingston bringing the aggression, at one point hitting Cody with his own weight belt. Cody was shredded by chops, rocked by body shots before he eventually got his own back, delivering a back body drop on Kingston onto the exposed concrete floor. There was a great shot where Kingston maintained eye contact with the camera while delivering two clubbing blows across Cody’s face while he was on the ropes. Perhaps showing that he is willing to sacrifice his body during this lengthy storyline as champion, Cody was on the receiving end of a power bomb onto thumbtacks. The man does not back away from showing colour or taking painful bumps. Towards the end of the match, he went back to the Figure Four to take advantage of Kingston’s compromised knee. He was slapped in the face during this attempt, slapped Kingston back in return and locked in the Figure Four forcing Kingston to tap at 11:21. Cody was victorious once more and despite the loss, Kingston was not fully vanquished as we have seen in recent weeks on Dynamite, with his sights now set on Moxley.

I initially didn’t know what to think of Warhorse as a competitor as I’d never seen him before. In fact, the first time I saw his match against Cody on 12/08/2020, I felt underwhelmed. I could see the story here where Cody’s offence had been scouted and going back to the well too many times to get the figure four locked in. On a recent re-watch of the match, I enjoyed it a lot more. Again, I don’t know much about Warhorse but I do hope he gets to come back as he is a dynamic and rocking personality. Cody as the overconfident and arrogant champion did something early on when he backed Warhorse into the corner and during the break up, he condescendingly tapped him on the chest – shades of Okada. Arn would encourage him by saying, “Don’t let your anger get in the way of your talent.” But again being the overconfident champ, Cody did the push-ups, pissing Arn right off. I noticed that a lot of the time Cody was on the attack, it was during the picture-in-picture segment – isn’t this usually reserved for heels? Is the arrogance going to give way to an eventual heel turn or was it just there to set him up for the fall?

I mentioned the “going back to the well” and in fact, the first figure four attempt was reversed by Warhorse. The second was reversed into an inside cradle. Warhorse also saw through the sunset flip and reversed that into a pin attempt. Third time was the charm and although Warhorse held onto Cody’s leg to prevent the hold from being applied, Cody would eventually lock it in and Warhorse would tap at 10:32. Because this was a guest spot and not the beginning of a contract for Warhorse, Dark Order unceremoniously kicked him out of the ring at the end. Cody would be knocked down and while Arn Anderson was preparing to fight them off, this lead to the introduction of Matt Cardona. He would deliver his Radio Silence finisher to them and it would lead to a brief reunion between these friends.

Scorpio Sky’s challenge for the title involved walking past Cody, looking at the title and looking back at Cody before nodding. No words exchanged. It was cool. It’s great that he has been freed up from the huge tag team division and has moved near-seamlessly into singles competition. He is a star already and AEW really needs to give him a solid push as a champion and this could have been the beginning of that.

Unfortunately the only memorable things from this match involved Cody embracing more douchebag tendencies like having an overflowing entourage, being announced as the “Prince of Pro Wrestling”, blowing a kiss to disapproving fans and having a lot of his offence during the picture-in-picture. Though it started as an evenly matched bout between the two, any excitement for what could happen was dulled because of how lacking this match was. There was no threat that Sky could capture the championship and it wasn’t a fair representation of what they are usually capable of. During the match, Schiavone would make the points that the work on the ribs, defending the title nearly every week and being EVP of AEW all added up to trouble for Cody. He again overcame the challenger, dropping Scorpio Sky with his second Cross Rhodes at 11:46. Sky wouldn’t accept Cody’s hand to pick him up afterwards. The tease that the two were upset with one another after the match was drowned out almost immediately by Mr Brodie Lee’s video message announcing his intention to challenge next.

“Tick tock, Cody. Time’s up!”

The Fall?

Up to this point, Cody had demonstrated his resilience. He was the first TNT Champion after overcoming the intimidating Murderhawk. He issued the open challenge and fought off all comers, turning the pace and cutting the schedule he promised. His baby face tendencies slowly changed to arrogance and being full of himself. I personally dig the push ups gag. It was a subtle detail but it slightly recalled his excellent heel work in NJPW and ROH.

After the introductions (including the “Prince of Pro Wrestling” moniker), Cody tried to get in an offensive flurry but was quickly overpowered by Mr Brodie Lee. His hubris would lead to his time being up at 3:10 on 13/08/2020 and Cody lost his TNT title.

If Arn’s face could tell the story, it’d say that this was the night when everything came crashing down. But it didn’t stop there – Cody was being stretchered out and the Dark Order brought him back to continue their assault. Arn was taken out. Cody was hit over the head with the bag containing the smashed up former TNT Title. Dustin and QT had already been disposed of. Not even Brandi was spared as Anna Jay choked her out on the entrance ramp. The Nightmare Family was dismantled in one fell swoop with the nightmarish image of the entire Dark Order standing over them. It felt like Bane had waited for his opportunity for the Batman to be weakened before taking him out in a quick and decisive victory.

Mr Brodie Lee – seen in so many of the impressive Dark Order promos, menacing in the well-articulated manner in which he spoke, the exalted one who didn’t suffer fools – finally delivered on all of the threats and squashed Cody like a jobber. This should have been the beginning of the Dark Order’s era.

Yet they were defeated by the combination of Dustin, QT, Matt Cardona and Scorpio Sky at All Out. And even though his first title defence on 09/09/2020 against Dustin was a success, taunting Cody at home via the camera by saying, “Come home, Cody!” he had one other successful title defence against Freshly Squeezed Orange Cassidy on 23/09/2020. On the same night, Cody returned to AEW after Cassidy’s defeat and fought off the Dark Order singlehandedly. Sporting black hair and a black suit, I couldn’t help but think of the return of Superman (black suit) even though he looked more like Bruce Wayne. Furious, Lee would challenge Cody to the dog collar match, which he subsequently accepted the following week.

I’ll get this out of the way first. I have never seen a dog collar match. The commentary did raise that the Roddy Piper vs Greg the Hammer Valentine dog collar match is still talked about to this day so I’ve made a note to seek it out one of these days. But I digress. What transpired on 07/10/2020 was crazy! It had everything. The story of Cody seeking to gain his self-respect and his title back. Commentary hyping up that Cody gained 14 lbs prior to this match to prepare himself for Lee. The nefarious villain Mr Brodie Lee. It had comedy in the form of Alex Silver getting clocked twice. They showed colour with Cody first getting cut up after a DDT and Lee following later in the match. There was a huge package piledriver through a table next to the ring. Cody would also hit his moonsault off the top rope. The drama was created when Lee kicked out of the Cross Rhodes at the 1 count. The attacks utilising the dog collar and chain combo were creative. I’ve never seen Cody use the Final Cut move but it was great in story as he was pulling out all the stops. The combination of wrapping the chain around the mouth, eyes and face of Lee followed by the Cross Rhodes would finally put Lee out for the 3 count and Cody won at 20:26. This match qualified as one of the best matches that Cody (and Mr Brodie Lee) had delivered in AEW. It is memorable in so many ways.

But I find that I’m somewhat torn about this title match. After months of anticipation and prior to his debut in AEW, Mr Brodie Lee was revealed to the Exalted One of the Dark Order. He quickly went into contention for the AEW heavyweight championship at Double or Nothing before he was choked out by Moxley. Though he was killed off as a threat to Moxley and he has left that picture for the time being, it seemed fitting that he’d be the best choice to take out Cody and bring in a new era as the TNT champion. His devastating squashing of Cody in their first match was awesome to see because it finally switched things up and Cody didn’t overcome yet another giant. And because he was such a monster, why would he have difficulties in taking on Dustin and to an extent, Orange Cassidy? With Mr Lee holding onto the title for just under 2 months, it feels like an opportunity wasted for more fun with the Dark Order and if they could have made his title reign a little longer, Cody’s clawing back to the TNT Championship picture would’ve felt more earned. It felt like outside of AEW, Cody needed a break and Brodie Lee was simply the transitional champion while waiting for him to return.

What’s next?

Has the TNT Championship been a success in shining the spotlight on AEW’s burgeoning mid-card? To a great extent, yes. With Cody being a natural and experienced talent in the ring, he was one of the best to act as the conduit to give opportunities to talents like Jungle Boy or to give, up until that point, traditionally tag team competitors like Mark Quen and Scorpio Sky a storyline chance for gold. The TNT Championship also attracted independent talents like Ricky Starks and Warhorse. It also introduced Eddie Kingston and showed Sonny Kiss’ competitiveness – two of my favourite matches in Cody’s list of defences of the title. My only complaint would be that the quality of those matches didn’t match the ones on PPV against people with more experience and exposure due to having worked in either NJPW or WWE.

Has it given the newer stars more opportunities to shine though? That’s where it gets murkier. While Jungle Boy and Quen were the first two challengers, they’ve mostly been returned to tag team work, which is a shame. Especially so in Jungle Boy’s case who, in time, I think will have a number of instant classic matches with MJF. I can see those two perfecting their in-ring styles and creating a series of matches on the level of Steamboat vs Flair.

Sonny Kiss and Jake Hager have also been relegated to mostly tag team duties. Sky appears to be trapped on AEW Dark where he’s in a feud against Shawn Spears. I feel that Sky should stay on Dynamite so he gets more opportunities; he was the first man to pin Le Champion so they should have been pushing him hard. Starks is gifted on the mic and his rivalry with Darby Allin could yield some great results if they give them time to work. Sadly, Warhorse hasn’t come back to show why he rules ass.

While Archer, Lee and Kingston have been or are currently in the heavyweight picture, this is to be expected based on their reliability and bankability as stars.

Though the TNT Championship has given newer stars some opportunities, it’s largely been a storyline device centred on Cody as a champion. Fun Rocky influences aside, it’s been good to see the character work from him on a near weekly basis. As we’ve seen, he’s been a fighting champion, an arrogant champion and set up a classic scenario where his pride lead to his downfall and as the hero, he had to rise up and overcome the villain. He has mused that it is romantic that he can’t challenge for the heavyweight title but with his intention to move to the heavyweight division, it could be nearing time on him closing this chapter to let the newer stars fight it out for the title. His gains have been mentioned more than once on Dynamite and given that he had a 20-minute time limit draw with Orange Cassidy on 14/10/2020, it makes sense that their rematch could be where Cody will drop the belt to Cassidy who is red hot right now and transition to the next challenge.

I have to say that I’ve appreciated this approach to the title as a storyline device instead of a monthly or quarterly feud (e.g. where one challenger is the perpetual thorn in the side of the champion until they get a title shot at the next PPV). I’ve just recapped almost 5 months of a championship mostly focused around one wrestler. While newer talents have gotten some more exposure on TV, this has also served as a great introduction to a new title. It might also be the crowning achievement in Cody’s legacy as he was the first holder of this title reminding people that you don’t have to be the first call to make something of yourself. It’s an underdog story and the choices in who he tangled with also showed that these talents may not have been the first call either but they certainly have the skills to be in AEW and on a show that regularly beats WWE’s NXT in the ratings every Wednesday.

Will people remember Cody’s reign as the inaugural champion (and third)? It’s a case of we’ll have to wait and see. But if you appreciate underdog hero stories (with shades of Rocky thrown in), then maybe you will be remembering the beginnings of the TNT Championship fondly in coming years and what it has done in developing the stars of tomorrow. I can’t wait to see what Year 2 of AEW brings us.

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