when i was a freshman in college i ran into a professor outside of class for the first time so i was like "oh, hi professor [redacted]" and she squinted at me and said "oh! you're in my intro class, right? you make really good eye contact" and I feel like that's really all you need to know about me as a person and student

it's up there on most memorable/on brand moments right next to being cast as iago the parrot in my 5th grade production of aladdin because i was "the only 5th grader who understood sarcasm"

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 38

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: A new semester is starting

A/N: We are finally done with the holiday chapters! When it comes to this chapter, I'd like to state that I only have some experience from a couple of Finnish universities so I really don't know a whole lot about how certain things work in practice in the States, so please ignore the possible inaccuracies for the sake of this fic. It feels weird after a couple of 'bigger' chapters to have a bit more 'fillery' one... but... but... there's Caleo in the beginning?? So I hope you'll enjoy nevertheless. I wish I could spread even more love towards this ship because they deserve it but sadly there are only so few hours in a day. The fandom seems so quiet these days...

Anyway, enough rambling! Now let's get to this chapter, and the usual reminder: I love to hear what you think! All comments are much appreciated :)

Words: 2500+ 

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

”Is something the matter? You look quite unhappy.”

Leo felt arms sneak around his shoulders from behind while he was sitting on the common area sofa, staring at his laptop with a frown. Some of the speaker’s reddish brown hair fell in front of his face, the smell of cinnamon drifting into his nose, and for some reason that alone was enough to relieve some of Leo’s uneasiness. The small, pale hands found their way down his biceps and stopped there, but he wasn’t going to complain. If he was honest, he was really happy about Calypso’s growing confidence when it came to the physical affection, because it told him she really trusted him. Sometimes he was still amazed that he out of all the people had managed to break the ice around her.

Before Leo let himself get too lovestruck, though, he reminded himself why he was staring at his laptop in the first place. The new semester was starting and that naturally meant new courses, new assignments, new texts to read and… new emails from his professors. One specific email had managed to twist his stomach quite badly. In it, the professor from his chemistry lab class had asked him for a meeting, and Leo assumed he wanted to discuss what had happened on the exam day. Wishing that he could just ignore that said message, he turned his attention back to his girlfriend.

“Just uni issues… nothing more severe this time,” Leo replied half jokingly. The holidays had given him some perspective on what really was important to him and failing a class didn’t feel quite as big an issue anymore. It was inconvenient, yes, on a few levels, but not entirely unfixable.

“Oh?” Calypso finally let her hands slide off of him and sat down next to him. She seemed a bit relieved that this was about the university and not something that was out of her reach, and if Leo was honest, he couldn’t blame her. “What kind of issues?”

“A professor wants to meet me face to face tomorrow. Probably to talk about my recent chemistry lab test or something like that.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Hmm… Isn’t it quite unusual for them to give special focus to a single student at this stage?” Calypso asked.

“Apparently they still do that in my department. Who knows, maybe they think I’ve caused them enough trouble by now and want me to quit.”

“But what happened in your lab test was not your fault. Do you think you are any closer to being able to finish it in case you get another chance?”

When Calypso was looking at him with those almost chocolate brown eyes, he felt that it wasn’t impossible.

“Some smart person once said that I need to believe in myself more, so that’s what I need to learn to do. After that… it might be possible.”

“I’m glad you’re listening to me at least sometimes.” Calypso gave him a lopsided smile. “The fact that you know what you should do means that you’re already on your way there.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Wanting to talk about something else, Leo asked: “Well, what about you? How are you feeling about the upcoming semester?”

“I’m feeling… pretty good about it, you know? Sure, I’ve been reading our course plans and it sounds like our professors are planning to make us work like every day is an exam day and we have some group assignments and important presentations coming up, but… I really like learning? And I like listening to the conversations between our professors and my fellow students during our lectures because it’s something I never got to do when I was stuck at home… I feel like I get new points of views from them all the time. And Annabeth is a really big help; she knows everything about everything so if I ever feel like I can’t follow the lectures, she can always clarify them to me.”

“I have a hard time imagining you not being able to keep up with the professors… but yeah, it’s good you can ask for her help if needed.”

Calypso nodded.

“You know, I’m glad you two got your issues sorted out in the fall,” Leo added as an afterthought.

Calypso looked up at him with a slight frown as if she had completely forgotten about what exactly had happened in the fall. “Oh, right, that. I feel like it was just one big misunderstanding. Both of us realized that we can’t get stuck on something that happened so long ago.”

Leo couldn’t deny that he had also felt a bit jealous of Percy when he had first found out about his and Calypso’s past, but she had clearly moved on, so he wasn’t holding a grudge anymore either. Calypso had decided to date him, and that’s what mattered.

“Yeah, I know from my personal experiences that ain’t worth it,” he replied.

Calypso leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed.

“I have a… maybe a bit weird question. Do you believe in some kind of greater power? You know, like gods?”

Leo wondered why she would ask that. “I dunno. Maybe. I’m not really strongly for or against that. I think I’m the kind of person who needs to see it to believe it, but I don’t think it’s impossible. But why do you ask?”

“This will sound extremely cheesy but sometimes I wonder… if there was a reason why we two met. Like some greater power that pushed us together for some reason.”

“Wow. I don’t know if any greater powers had their fingers in that but I am glad that it happened.” Leo threw his arm around her shoulder and wondered briefly why it felt like such a natural thing to do. At one point he had been too intimidated to initiate any kind of physical contact but now that they were more open with each other and she had seen him in some of his worse moments – he didn’t mind anymore.

“Yeah. Me too.” Calypso whispered.

Only the buzzing of the fridge and some other kitchen machinery could be heard on the background while the flatmates were simply enjoying each other’s company, resting their heads against each other, but eventually Calypso suggested:

“Hey... I think I need something that will allow me to disconnect a bit, so… how about some Friends?”

Leo didn’t have anything against that suggestion. In fact, he always enjoyed the TV show or movie nights with Calypso, for various reasons. “Sure. That sounds great to me. You know I’m always ready to roast my homeboy Chandler.”

“I know you are.” Calypso nudged him and took the remote control to find the right episode. As they started watching and commenting on it (he always enjoyed how snarky Calypso’s comments could be), Leo almost forgot about the upcoming meeting with the professor.

…

The next day, Leo found himself in the building where the office of his lab professor was located. At the breakfast table he had practiced the meeting with Calypso, and Jason had also joined him a bit later to wish him luck. To Leo’s relief, he did seem a lot happier than when he had seen him before the holiday break, but he still didn’t talk a whole lot about his current situation. Leo himself decided that it was better if he didn’t guide his friends too much so instead he did a quick recap on the recent developments in his own life – without mentioning his new relationship status. Luckily Jason didn’t ask, as he seemed to be more worried about Leo’s upcoming meeting.

As he was waiting for the professor to arrive, Leo kept glancing at his clock nervously. The man was already a few minutes late. While Leo knew that wasn’t anything unusual in the university world, as the professors tended to be busy, he still kept wishing he could get the meeting over with as soon as possible. His leg started bouncing again on its own and his fingers were tapping against the wooden handle of the chair. Suddenly he didn’t feel quite as sure about what he was going to tell the professor as he had felt earlier.

Finally, he was pulled from his thoughts by a loud ‘ahem’.

“Mr. Valdez? Sorry I’m late, my meeting with a couple of coworkers got a bit long,” the professor said.

“That’s… that’s fine,” Leo stuttered. Some months ago he would probably have said something snarky as a response but right now he knew better than to take any risks.

“Go in, go in, so we can have a talk,” the professor encouraged. Unwillingly, Leo followed him into his office and had to be told to sit down before he even realized that there was a comfortable looking arm chair right next to him.

“So…” the professor started once he was seated behind his desk. “You probably know why I invited you here.”

“I… I do have an idea…” Leo said hesitantly, looking everywhere in the room except the professor. The man had a lot of engineering related books in his bookshelf, a big stack of papers - probably students’ assignments - and a fancy looking calculator on his desk. Behind him on the wall there was a single photograph of his family. Pretty much exactly how Leo had imagined the said professor’s room looking.

“I will be direct with you. Your achievements in the lab classes - or lack thereof - is a cause of confusion for us. In almost all of the theory related classes, you are on the top of the class – despite the occasional reports that your behavior towards the lecturers could use some improvement.” The man raised his eyebrow, but Leo thought he could see a glint of amusement in his eyes. That didn’t last long, though. “However, until now we have been willing to overlook that because of your talents. Maths, physics, chemistry… those things you clearly don’t have any issues with. But already for the second year you have been avoiding the lab classes for which you have been signed up and last fall you even left the chemistry lab test before you managed to get it completed. I’m sure you are aware that if you want to move onto the more advanced classes, you need to complete the mandatory ones before you are allowed to do that.”

“Yes, sir, I’m aware of that,” Leo replied stiffly, wondering briefly when was the last time he had called anyone sir, other than ironically.

“In that case…” His voice turned less formal, more fatherly as he continued, which surprised Leo. The professors he was used to dealing with were usually not all too nice to him, although he was willing to admit that some of it was probably deserved. “Can I ask you, is there a specific reason why you haven’t attended the lab classes?”

Leo wondered if he should come up with a quick lie. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life that he would have to do that in order to protect himself. However, the professor really seemed sincere and concerned about him and in a way his expression reminded him of Jo’s when she was expecting him to open up. Perhaps that’s why he ended up deciding to answer honestly:

“Yes. There is.”

“And? What is the reason?” The professor raised his eyebrow.

Leo inhaled deeply before forming his response. “I’m afraid of fire. Yeah, laugh ahead, but it’s true. I can’t deal with anything that requires heating because of some nasty as hell childhood trauma.”

To his surprise, the professor didn’t get angry at him for talking to him in such a manner. Instead, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“And you’re still planning to make mechanical engineering your career? Despite your fear?”

Leo nodded slowly. “Yeah. Building and fixing inanimate objects is the only thing I’ve ever known how to do. I was basically born with a hammer and a wrench in my hands and I was capable of building toys for myself when I was like four. After an accident…” He refrained from mentioning his mother because he couldn’t guarantee he would be able to stay calm if he brought that up. “… I haven’t been able to light up a match or anything like that. But almost five years ago, two awesome women adopted me and one of them is a mechanic. She reminded me what I really love about tinkering and it was then that I decided that I wanna keep trying. It’s a process but I am working on it.”

The professor smiled a little. “You know… a lot of our students were unable to take the chemistry lab course in the fall, so we decided to organize another course now in the spring. As it happens, there’s still some room for new people in it. So, if you’re interested, you’re welcome. But remember, you would need to attend all the mandatory classes and complete the tasks that you are assigned, no exceptions. That means we will not be going easy on you just because of your fear.”

Leo’s eyes widened with surprise. He hadn’t expected to get a chance like that.

“Woah, thanks sir! I won’t let you down!”

“That’s good to hear,” the professor nodded approvingly. “Can I ask you a question, though? Why do you want to become a mechanical engineer? I mean, what exactly is it that fascinates you about it, other than the influences you have gotten at your home?”

Leo imagined that the professor could probably see the bolts and nuts moving in his brain as he formed his answer. “I… I wanna learn to develop products that will help us make the world a safer, more sustainable place for us. We engineers, if anyone, can develop technology that will help us achieve that goal. But that’s not all. I also wanna learn more so I can help to share the information forward. I wanna show kids who come from similar backgrounds as I that they should keep on dreaming. There was a time when my mom ate porridge - only porridge - for her meals so she could pay the rent when her business was slow, but she still kept doing it. Because that’s how much she cared about her job. And I want to continue in her footsteps.”

The professor shifted on his seat. “That is an admirable goal, Mr. Valdez. I hope you will succeed. Remember, you do have the skill – you just need to know how to use it.”

“Yeah… Thanks professor.”

“No problem. Don’t forget the class enrollments end tonight so you need to be fast if you want to participate. That’s all for now. Good luck in your future endeavors.”

“Thanks. I’ll go enroll myself then. Bye for now.”

“See you, Mr. Valdez.”

Leo breathed a long sigh of relief the moment he stepped out of the professor’s office. The meeting had gone way better than he had dared to expect. He hadn’t thought he would get another chance so fast, but was grateful for the opportunity. Now, he would only need to kick his fears into the deepest pits of Tartarus, as Calypso would say.

COLLEGE AU! || YUJI ITADORI + MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + NOBARA KUGISAKI + SATORU GOJO

Pairing: Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, and Satoru Gojo | GN!Reader

Type: Headcanons

Warnings: None

Note: I needed to write this. I had to. I couldn't stop thinking about this during dinner ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ also, lowkey, kinda wanna write a short fic about a college!au Satoru... because it's Satoru Gojo, hehehe. I hope you enjoy this!

Yuji Itadori is that one student who misses his lectures because he would sleep in or he would be trying to figure out a decent outfit to wear. Most of his assignments are late but he’d practically beg the professor of the class to give him a second chance in turning them in. He’ll attempt to study, but give him an hour, and he’ll be either asleep or playing video games to pass the time. Yuji makes a lot of friends, though, and he gets along with everyone in his small classes and makes a group of friends in larger ones. All in all, Yuji was not the best student, but he was willing to help out in any way if it was necessary, especially if it meant group projects. Sometimes, he’d encourage a study gathering and as the reward of a hard day’s work, it would be time to go out for dinner!

When Yuji found out you were in his class, he didn’t mind it, but both of you had to give a speech together about some mythology story in humanities class, and he was dreading it. However, you were a great and patient partner with him. Both of you rehearsed the PowerPoint lines very well, and after achieving a good grade, he offers to take you out on a date to celebrate. It did not take long for Yuji to grow feelings for you, and this led to him sitting next to you in lectures a lot, plus it also took him a lot of guts to ask you to study with him and help him prepare for the next exam. Eventually, he knows that he has to open up to you about how he feels, but he’ll just play around with the idea of these study dates just a bit longer.

— ♡ —

Megumi Fushiguro is the kind of college student that would make sure that he finishes all of his homework in time and does those usual all-nighters, but he doesn’t really talk to anyone and prefers to be alone most of the time. He is not the type to work in groups, only when the professor is assigning group projects. He studies alone with headphones on, but there would be times where he’ll procrastinate and whenever he does, he’ll get stressed out over the outcome of that. Overall, Megumi had a few friends, and he likes to be on his own, on his phone or tablet in-between breaks of classes, and he basically just dreads for the semester to be done and over with.

He is not a fan of working with lab partners, but out of all people, he was chosen to work with you by his professor. However, you were very open to working with him and offering to clean the majority of the glassware once the labs were completed. The reports weren’t fun, but you continue to communicate with him very well on the chemistry problems and the solutions both of you came up with. Megumi began to like you a lot, and every time you sat next to him in class, he would try to cover his face with the textbook or purposefully avoid eye contact with you. After the numerous study dates you had with him, Megumi knew deep down that he had to bring up how he felt about you, but these study dates were becoming enjoyable for him. Maybe the confession could wait a little while longer.

— ♡ —

Nobara Kugisaki will do most of her homework on time and she’ll participate in a lot of group projects, but she’ll always think about doing them on her own. She has a large pen collection and she tries to keep her notes somewhat decent, but she ends up spending too much of her money on pretty stationery and cute accessories for her backpack. She’ll listen to the professors if they’re really good-looking, otherwise, the boring and unattractive ones are going to leave her on her phone throughout the whole lectures. She has a pretty big friend group, but most of the time, she likes to spend her time buying new things instead of doing the assignments.

She didn’t expect to make new friends in psychology, since the class was so small, but you were the one that introduced yourself and the compliment that was sent her way on how you really liked the stickers on her notebook made her eyes lit up. Nobara asks you to study with her a lot since she has difficulty grasping the vocabulary well and you offer to help her every single time. Though, most of the time, it was an excuse to get closer to you. Her heart quickens its beat every time your fingers brush against hers on accident, and the gentle smile you send whenever you tell her that you love the new pens she got, she can only feel herself falling deeper.

— ♡ —

Satoru Gojo will definitely charm his way with a lot of the females in the classes. Surprisingly enough, he was one of the smarter students even though he never chooses to do the homework and either never do it or turns it in late. He’ll make a lot of people jealous since he won’t show up most of the time and yet he still manages to pass the class. He’ll participate in lectures, work hard in group projects, and give amazing and confident presentations, but he will use a lot of his free time to hang out with his friends on campus or chat up with some girls that he finds attraction to. He wasn’t the best student, and he’ll do the work if he absolutely had to (such as being in a group project), but he’ll still manage to pass the class somehow.

When you were stuck on your calculus problems, your professor asked Satoru to help you in getting a better grade in the class. At first, it struck you cold; there was no way that Satoru was actually good in the class, but it turns out that he really was the best out of everyone there. Oddly enough, Satoru was a great teacher, and he was attractive nonetheless. But with every cheer and giddy grin you’d get after getting a hard problem right made his heart flutter. These tutoring sessions were something he could get used to this. All because the sight of your lit-up eyes from you memorizing formulas just left him in awe. It didn’t take him long to have feelings for you, and all the girls he had charmed his way to had been blocked and out of his reach, and all that mattered to him was your smile every day.

Jealousy

masterlist

Request: Could you do a draco x reader wherein she’s a close friend in their slytherin group (since she’s in slytherin + pure blood) but then she starts talking and getting close to Cedric which makes Draco super jealous but the only reason why she’s close with Cedric now is because she needs advice from him in order to confess her feelings for draco

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: While Y/N seeks advice from Cedric on how to confess, Draco feels unnerved by their apparent budding romance. 

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: A frustrating amount of and misunderstandings (plus a kiss at the end).

a/n — Whew, this was my longest one-shot so far, but also my favourite! I feel like I really outdid myself 😅 The request was so cute, I hope you all enjoy reading this!

tags: @obsessedwithrandomthings

*contact me if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

——————————

Draco Malfoy had always been the one to catch your attention.

Whether it be when you'd both find yourselves in the middle of the Slytherin common room, take a passing glance in the hallway, or even coexist in the Great Hall during mealtimes; he would always reside in the corner of your vision, maintaining permanent tenancy in your thoughts.

It was always the same case. No different after this particular Herbology lecture either.

"Merlin, who decided to make gardening mandatory?" spoke the irritated voice of Theodore Nott. The rest of the group groaned in agreement, the hatred of the class being especially mutual.

You were just dismissed from Herbology, the last class of the day, and was now walking alongside the rest of your Slytherin friends. The group consisted of a handful of fourth years—Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, you, and Draco Malfoy. The six of you became inseparable after mere introductions before the sorting; the friendship is still running strong today.

"Cut it some slack," you drawled with a playful grin. "Having a trivial class amidst our schedule does provide a decent release.”

Letting out a mocking chuckle, Pansy nodded. "That's true. Even an eight-year-old wouldn't find Herbology mentally strenuous. It's just playing with plants.”

"And that's why no right-minded student would willingly choose it if presented the choice," Blaise added with a scowl.

While the group continued to slam the class they were just in, you halted your words upon the sight of a familiar sixth year, head peeking out amongst the crowd of shorter kids. Jogging slightly ahead, you crashed into said student with a bone-crushing hug.

"Cedric!" you exclaimed with a relieving smile. He returned the hug with an arm lazily draped across your upper back, inciting a subtle response from a boy standing nearby.

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of Cedric Diggory. Lately, he seemed to be the only person you associate with outside of the group. Unfortunately, you being friendly with certain males was a recipe for a jealous Draco. And Cedric most definitely counted as one of those males.

"Hey kiddo," Cedric replied, ruffling your hair with his free hand before pulling away from the embrace. A faint gag-like noise can be heard from the group, though it ultimately went unnoticed by you.

Lowering your voice to a level audible only to Cedric, you hissed, "I need to talk to you."

"Of course," he mumbled in response before looking to the group of Slytherins with a sheepish grin. Before speaking, Cedric slung an arm over your shoulder.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I steal Y/N for a moment?"

With a harsh sneer, Draco crossed his arms and diverted his eyes from the pair. "She's all yours."

The hasty response enkindled a sense of dejection in your heart. He seemed far too eager to get rid of your presence, though you ignored the prospect of this purely being you overthinking.

"Alright then," you said with a slight stammer. Looking to Cedric before heading off, you added, "I'll see you guys later."

Upon the pair's departure, an ill-tempered expression found its way onto Draco's inscrutable countenance. He released his held arms and let out a loud scoff. It was then when the rest of the group took notice of his visible annoyance.

"What's getting you all cross?" Daphne joked as she landed a harsh pat onto Draco's back. "Is it a certain someone? Or certain people?"

A chorus of ooh's followed as Draco turned away in an attempt to conceal his increasingly red face. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his bag strap before addressing the group.

"I'm gonna rest at the dorm," he lied before abruptly taking off, his speed preventing any responses from being made. Rather than heading to the common room, he instead chose to wander around the hallways. Draco needed to clear his head alone, or else his mind would be consumed with the various what-if's appearing whenever you'd leave with Cedric.

Draco was never one to be jealous. He had always been too absorbed in himself to think quite highly of another. It was only until this year when you had become close with one of the esteemed Hogwarts champions that his self-image no longer feels as superlative.

After all, he had always felt prideful of how someone of your intelligence and grandeur paid attention to him. The mere fact that you choose to associate with Draco, even if it's amongst a group, filled him with joy. But when this widely praised Hufflepuff came into the picture, he couldn't help but feel jealous at the thought of someone else making you happy.

He wanted to be the one that makes you laugh. The person responsible for your gleeful expressions and carelessly wide grins.

But how could he when Cedric had now captured your gaze?

Little did Draco know, he couldn't be further from the truth. He had consumed your head to the point of needing a verbal release, and that's exactly why Cedric came into the picture.

"I wish you had seen the way he handled the Mandrake! His face in those earmuffs was too adorable," you cried from within your palms, face buried in it as you swung your legs back and forth.

You were currently in the library, perched on top of a table as you ranted to the boy seated in front of you. The topic at hand was the usual one, being Draco Malfoy and how utterly amazing he is to you.

“I can imagine,” Cedric replied in a sarcastic tone, chuckling at your love-struck nature.

You lightly slapped his arm. “Don’t make fun of me! You don’t know how hard it is to pay attention in class when he is sitting five feet away.”

“But are you ever gonna tell him that?”

“That won’t be necessary.” You were quick to reject his proposal. It wasn’t the first time Cedric suggested coming clean to Draco about your feelings for him, but it certainly won’t be the last you turn it down simply out of fear. Only if you deem a positive reaction at least 70% likely you will attempt a confession, but until then, you were content with concealing your true thoughts.

Unfortunately, your hasty response caught the attention of Madam Pince, who glared at you two disapprovingly. “Silence. The library is not a place for conversation.”

With a sheepish look, you both stood up to leave. “Sorry, Madam Pince.”

Exiting the library, you and Cedric simply ambled along the deserted corridor, conversing mindlessly about Draco’s soft hair and the Triwizard Tournament. Somewhere along, the Yule Ball was brought up, inciting a small blush on your cheeks.

“You’re gonna ask Draco, right?” Cedric asked with an enthusiastic tone, giving a playful nudge. You offered merely a tentative shrug in response.

“I really want to but... what if he doesn’t agree? What if someone else already asked and he said yes? Or what if he’s waiting for someone else to ask—”

Putting a finger to your lips to halt your words, he gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t overthink it, he’d be an idiot to say no to you.”

His words proved to be only slightly comforting as you stammered, “But there are too many factors involved; I’m just not ready! How would I even ask him to the ball? How would I know what to say?”

“With practice, of course.”

Cedric grabbed your arms, repositioning your body to face him in the middle of the hallway. He then released your frame and clasped his hands. “There. Pretend I’m Draco. Now tell me how you feel and ask me to the Yule Ball.”

You glanced at him hesitantly for a moment but then eased up after he flashed you a wide grin. “Alright. So uh, hello Draco. I have something to say to you.”

Without you two knowing, the real Draco had just turned the corner, entering the hallway in which you two occupied. Upon seeing the tense atmosphere, he merely stood back, subtly hiding behind the wall in curiosity of what’s being said.

“Yes, Y/N?”

With one large intake of air, you spoke quickly before your mind could second-guess the words being said. “I like you. A lot.”

While Cedric smiled proudly at your confidence, Draco froze in his position. He had always suspected your feelings for the Hogwarts champion, but for you to boldly confess was beyond his predictions. He couldn’t ignore the pangs in his chest following his what-if’s being confirmed right in front of his eyes.

Cedric wanted you to feel assured with what you’re doing, so without any hesitancy, he played along. “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”

Strangely enough, despite knowing this was a fake confession, you felt mildly relieved. Almost ready for the actual confession with Draco. With a small smile, you continued the practice. “On that note, I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the Yule Ball? I mean, it’s alright if you say no—”

Cedric grabbed your wrist, interrupting you with an encouraging grin. “It’s alright. Yes, I’ll go with you.”

You nearly leaped into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” you mumbled under your breath, referring to his help in building up your courage. However, it wasn’t interpreted similarly with the boy spying nearby.

Draco’s breath was hitched in his throat as he watched the encounter. His heart only seemed to drop lower with every word, officially crashing upon sight of the intimacy at the end. Of course, he thought to himself in despondency. Of course, she picks him.

He clenched his fist, jealousy coursing through his veins. In an attempt to shield himself from further pain, he walked away, mind and legs set on getting out of the castle immediately.

Though amidst his internal agony, he forgot one small detail; you and Cedric stood merely a few feet away. Draco was quick to realize when he accidentally walked past you two conspicuously.

“Oh, Draco?”

The said boy paused in his steps, cringing at his own dull-witted mistake. Turning on his heel, he flashed a fake smile towards you two.

“Hey,” Draco drawled in an awkward tone, eyes moving anywhere but where you stood. While you appeared positively delighted by his presence, Cedric merely scrutinized his countenance.

“Where are you headed?” you asked, feigning nonchalance to mask your flustered state. However, Draco’s uninterested look and dull tone threw you off.

“Dorms,” he simply replied.

You frowned at his indifference, though tried to brush it off in an attempt to recall Cedric’s words. He had told you not to overthink things, so you weren’t planning on doing so. “Great! I was gonna go there too, wanna walk together?”

It was a bold move on your part. You almost never approached Draco outside of a group setting, so the gesture earned a surprised but pleased glance from your friend. Draco scowled at the sight of Cedric eyeing you, finding his anger rising to the surface once more.

“Actually, I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” And with that, Draco left in hasty steps. He needed to properly clear his head. The first attempt ultimately failed, aiding in his budding jealousy, but another try must be made in order for him to sleep that night without drowning in thoughts of inflicting pain on that Cedric Diggory.

As you watched your longtime crush curve your suggestion with a great deal of speed, you felt the small bit of courage gained crumble down inside you, leaving only a lump of misery residing where the hope had previously been.

“Y/N—” Cedric’s attempt at comforting you was cut short when you immediately turned away, trying to reach your room before you could burst into tears. While he watched your slouched figure make its way towards the Slytherin common room, he couldn’t help but dwell over a particular observation, inciting hope inside him for his dejected friend.

Was that jealousy I saw on Draco?

~~~

The next day, you found yourself indifferent towards the previous night's events. You chose to accept the supposed truth of Draco simply not being into you. Being friends with him was enough, you would tell yourself. As long as you get to see him every day, admiring in secret was enough.

“I wanna go to bed already,” you heard Pansy whine amongst the various other noises filling the Great Hall. Breakfast was nearly over, and the group was just finishing up their meals before getting ready for class.

“Doesn’t everyone?” you interjected with a small chuckle, scarfing down the rest of your toast.

As the six of you prepared to head out at the sound of the bell, a presence made itself known in front of you. They initially went unnoticed, until the absence of chatter and the clearing of a throat brought you back to reality.

Stood in front of the Slytherin Table was Cedric Diggory, his signature smile painted onto his face as he clutched his bag strap. His appearance in this area of the dining hall earned him some contemptuous glares from the Slytherins, though you disregarded their looks as you offered a brief side hug.

“Cedric? Don’t you have class?” you asked, curious at his sudden arrival. Ensuring a particular platinum-haired boy was watching, he wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you closer to him.

“Play along, I’m doing this for you,” he hastily whispered, leaning down to speak in your ear. He then pulled his face back before speaking in a tone audible for the group nearby. “Is it bad that I wanted to see you once more? Let me walk you to class.”

You both internally cringed at his loving tone, but a stronger reaction was visible with Draco instead. He was quick to step forward and interrupt the moment.

“Actually, I was going to take her.”

While your eyes widened in surprise, Cedric merely smirked and took a step back. “Well then, I wouldn’t want to steal her away,” he said before heading to the Hufflepuff table, pride laced through his steps. It was at that moment when you understood why he initiated the contact.

That sly bastard.

Before any of Slytherins could follow along, before you could pipe up with an objection, and before Draco can begin questioning where in the hell the sudden confidence came from, he grabbed your wrist and took off. It was an amusing attempt at a romantic stroll, really.

Still, you found yourself blushing like a young schoolgirl. Even if he was practically dragging you down the hall, your rose-coloured lens saw the beauty in such intimacy. If your brain wasn't preoccupied with the reason behind it, you might have been more of a nervous wreck.

For starters, why had he even suggested this? How had Cedric's half-assed attempt at invoking jealousy miraculously work?

You ultimately decided to put aside the questioning thoughts for a moment and savour the physical contact. Draco was beginning to slow his pace to a calming saunter, presumably noticing the speed and manner in which he walked you with. With a subtle gesture, he dropped the hand enclosing your wrist to meet your palm instead, staring off nonchalantly as he did so.

It seemed at that moment, a swarm of bees erupted from the deepest corners of your heart.

Draco felt a similar sensation, being a thousand fireworks going off at once inside of him. Such an insignificant gesture, merely shifting his hand an inch lower to meet yours, yet it meant the world to you both. Embarrassingly enough, neither could remain eye contact throughout the remainder of the stroll.

When the Transfiguration class came into view and Draco stopped in his track, you felt your reverie shatter in an abrupt motion. He glanced towards you, tentatively releasing your grip.

Upon the lack of touch, you found yourself regaining consciousness, consequentially resuming your overthinking. Rather than waiting for him to speak, you chose to assume his negative response and leave to preserve your emotions early.

Thus, without offering another glance, you entered the classroom and strode towards your desk.

Leaving a certain platinum-haired boy behind, wondering what he did wrong to cause such repulsion.

"Settle down, class," spoke the authoritative voice of Professor McGonagall.

Throughout the lesson, you had your mind running in various different directions. Part of you wished to continue swooning over Draco and how he held your hand, while the other part dwelled over his hesitancy at the end, likely meaning he regretted what he had done. It made sense to you that he would.

Meanwhile, Draco felt bad about how quickly you left once he released your hand. Maybe she just wanted Cedric to walk her, he thought to himself sadly. Maybe I was just interfering.

Oh, how thoroughly incorrect they both were.

By the end of class, you wanted to approach the matter one last time and ask Draco whether he truly felt regret rather than bawl over mere possibilities.

As the rest of the class filed out, leaving only you and Draco remaining, you slowly walked up to him. He had his face pointed down as he shoved the books into his bag messily. By the time you had reached close enough to begin speaking, he simply slung his bag over his shoulder and left the classroom with hardly any time to spare.

He just walked off, very much aware of your presence.

And somewhere in Draco's twisted little mind, he thought he was doing the right thing. By evading confrontation, he wouldn't have to hear you openly reject him, and you could be happy with Cedric.

He wouldn't be interfering that way. It was for the best.

Though you both tried to empathize with the situation, neither managed to avoid the tears by the end of the day.

~~~ 

The last three days had been excruciating for you, mentally and emotionally. You wanted to brush past the incident as you did the day before, but it somehow hurt more this time. You felt mildly confident after the stroll and hand-holding gesture, but him proceeding to ignore you shortly afterwards shattered all remaining bits of hope.

You wanted to get over it. You wanted to get over him. But you didn’t know how.

It was currently late in the evening, and the Slytherin common room appeared to be deserted. You intended to take a minor detour from the dorms, instead seeking your friend in order to clear your head. Swiftly, you made your way down the stairs, checking for any wandering students.

After you deemed it safe to exit, you approached the portrait hole with furtive steps. Though very quickly, you found your inspection to be flawed.

“Y/N?”

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath before glancing up slowly. Your face held a sheepish sort of surprise at the presence of another in the common room.

Once the figure came into view, you were startled by the sight of Draco Malfoy, eye-bags prominent amidst his sickly pale face. You hadn’t seen him often since that lesson. He would rarely attend mealtimes, or appear for five minutes whenever he would. The majority of shared classes he had ditched, miraculously coming down with a cold before each one. The entire group was beginning to feel quite worried—you included.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice small and timid. It no longer held the same imposing and prideful aura you had always admired.

Clearing your throat, you looked to your feet as you spoke. “To see Cedric.”

That line seemed to hit a nerve within Draco, because the moment the name left your lips, his face twisted into a scowl. Upon tilting your head back up, you were met with his ill-tempered expression.

“Draco? What’s the matter?” you stammered. Ignoring your question, he ran his fingers through his hair and tugged on them with frustration.  Draco then looked to you with desperation pouring through his silver-tinted eyes.

“What does he have that I don’t?”

You merely stared at him in response, blinking with confusion. As he glanced at you expectantly, you found it hard to produce the words in your throat.

“Well? What is it?” he pressed further, taking a step in your direction before continuing. 

“Is it the fact that he’s the esteemed Hogwarts champion? His popularity? His looks? What made you fall for him,” Draco paused for a moment, lowering his voice to a shaky whisper, “and not me?”

You never caught that last part, so instead, you waved your hands to shut down the assumptions. “Me and Cedric, we are just friends—”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“Bullshit? How can you be so sure?”

“Because I saw you confess,” he snapped. The area went quiet for a moment, Draco attempting to calm himself back down, while you were left stunned. “And I saw you ask him to the Yule Ball. Friends don’t do that.”

After rummaging your mind for any instance he might be referring to, you suddenly recalled the practice confession a couple of days ago. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots and realize Draco appeared in front of you right after the profession was over.

“Draco, you have the wrong idea. What you heard back there— I wasn’t confessing to him.” Draco held a look of disbelief, which was understandable given what a wild claim it was. It did look exactly what Draco was thinking. You knew the only way to convince him was to divulge what really went down.

“Then what was it?” he prompted with a dry chuckle.

“He was helping me practice what to say to you!”

“Say to me? What do you mean—” Draco paused, his eyes widening upon realizing your words. You took the silence as a gesture to continue.

“Draco, I like you. A lot.”

And once again, the room went quiet. His lips parted, words stuck in the back of his throat. The cherry shade washed over his cheeks went unseen under the dim lighting. You simply stood in front of him, rocking on your heel as you await a reply.

After what felt like an hour of pure silence, you decided to follow through with what was planned days before. With Cedric’s encouragement in mind, you took a deep breath. “And I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Draco’s eyes became impossibly wider, and without uttering a single word, he nodded ever so slightly. The shock was still evident on his face as he did so.

“Actually? You will?” you asked, jubilation apparent in your tone. Until your expression faltered, and you began doubting yourself and his agreement. “Wait, do you truly want to go? You know, you don’t have to agree out of pity—”

Before you could continue rambling on, the soundless boy halted your words with a swift motion, connecting your lips with his. 

The abrupt kiss had rendered you frozen, eyes squeezed shut in complete surprise. It was only when you felt his cold fingers brush over the exposed skin on your waist that your nerves sprang back to life, and you began kissing back with equal fervour.

You felt the urgency in the way Draco had kissed you. The desperation, as if the moment he’s let go, you would be with Cedric and he would be crying alone in the common room. He wanted to savour this before it would all come crumbling down, because he genuinely believed that it all would at the end.

Until you pulled away, and expecting the worse, he was met with an airy chuckle erupting from the base of your throat. It was quite possibly the most delightful sound he had ever heard.

“You’d really go with me?” you said under your breath, a wide grin still painted on your face as Draco kept his grip around your waist.

Planting a small peck on your forehead, he reassured, “Of course I will. What more would I ever want?”

The rest of the evening was spent within each other’s grasp, feelings of security and comfort prevalent throughout the tranquil night. Worries from the days before had slipped your minds; all that remained was thoughts of one another.

And nothing else can get in the way.

——————————

a/n — And there you have it! Thanks for reading 💞 Please like, comment, and reblog to show support! Feel free to send requests or feedback in my asks.

Superman : Heroes #1 ... Diana and Bruce

In “Superman(2018) #18″ Superman revealed to the World that his name was “Clark Kent” and the comic book “Superman:Heroes #1″ presents the immediate aftermaths.

(Edit from DC Comics Rebirth Superman(2018) #18 and Superman:Heroes #1)

This Issue had a unique and delightful little story with Diana and Bruce, 0% Action, only talking,.. a dance between two people caring for each other ... It revealed a bit of the real man behind the “Bat” and the “Playboy”. I loved Diana’s wisdom in this, especially when she compared Bruce to Clark.

As a first result, not every one in the Justice league looked happy about that “Scoop”..

(Edit from DC Comics Rebirth Superman(2018)  #18)

Batman’s POV about secrecy shouldn’t be a surprise, ... but Diana’s behavior seemed rather unsettling... First I thought she was still angry after her speech about the loss of trust during their last exchange in DC Comics “Batman/Superman (2019) #6.

(Edit from DC Comics Batman/Superman (2019) #6)

Her whole speech was about the morality of keeping secrets ... Diana’s speech may have encouraged Clark to go Public with his Identity ... but after he’d done it her comment shows she didn’t seem so sure about that part ... Why would she be unsatisfied if Clark just followed her theory about secrecy ?

(Edit from DC Comics Rebirth Superman(2018) #18)

Revealing everything to the world wasn’t what she meant ... She’s a diplomat, she understands that there is an “in between”,  a compromise to make ... not all truths can be thrown around without care... Diana was making them a lecture about “keeping secrets” earlier, Yes, but... it was mostly about “keeping secrets from each other” ... so this new “secret” Clark had kept again from them was actually what she was complaining about previously and had to hurt both, Diana and Bruce,... once again one of them took a secret decision without sharing it with the others. Leaving them to face the consequences once everything was done ... Bruce is so angry that he ironically tells Clark that the Kents are completely “off the grid” (something he surely invested some hard work and a lot of time to achieve) because Clark just busted all of his hard work in a second... Yeah, Clark, how should he feel about that ?... XD

(edit from DC Comics Rebirth Justice League(2018) #47)

Finally Clark understands how much he hurt Bruce later and apologizes (see “Justice League(2018) #47″)... He may now have understood what Diana talked about earlier...

But lets get back to our subject “Superman : Heroes #1″

The stories of DC Comics “Superman : Heroes #1″ have been written by Brian Michael Bendis, Matt Fraction and Greg Rucka.

Greg Rucka is one of the best writers of the pairing Wonder Woman/Batman (“Blackest Night : Wonder Woman”, “The Hiketeia”, “The Solstice”, ...) he has usually a great touch when it comes to tell in a more subtle way how much Diana and Bruce care for each other.

(Edits from Some of Greg Rucka’s Work for DC comics)

 In the comic “Superman:Heroes”, Greg Rucka is behind these 8 Panels out of the 35 that the comic contains, pretty much one quarter of the whole book about Superman, and his story is only about Diana and Bruce ... already a message in itself ... and he did an amazing work again. Few words but so much was said (pretty much the opposite of what I am doing right now ! XD )

The Art is amazing as well.

It happens shortly after Superman’s meeting with the JL, and starts with Bruce standing alone in front of his Parents grave. Lost silently in his thoughts.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Suddenly a well known voice breaks him out of his reverie. Diana is here. Bruce is Classy as always, while Diana wears more casual clothing ... I think Rucka chose on purpose to drop the uniforms for this exchange ... because the uniforms are not really “them”. This is not really about Batman and Wonder Woman but about the people behind those masks.

.(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

She came to look after him. She could have gone anywhere, with anyone. She could have celebrated with Clark and the rest of the league this unique moment, this huge step Superman made... but she choose to go to a most lonely and sad place for one of her closest friends : Wayne Manor’s graveyard.... and she knew she would find him there... She knows his reaction was excessive ... there is something hurting him hard and she needs to know what...

“Thought I would find you here ... How are you doing ?” A useless question because Diana already knows the answer to her question ... otherwise she wouldn’t be there, she wouldn’t have come directly to the graves...

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Bruce turns around and walks away ...then, in the distance, just says “Fine.”. Diana stands silently while he flees into loneliness again... Bruce knows she won’t go away after just a “Fine”, he knows the truth, she will dig further, so he retreats from the battlefield because she won’t leave him to his dark mood...

3 sentences, 11 Words, that's all you get for a full page with 5 great pictures...

All 8 panels of that story are really wonderful. They are made like a movie, using silences to show the depth, the seriousness of the subject, the loneliness, sadness and deep closeness of both characters. Pictures with perspectives, enhance the effect of their loneliness ... Diana and Bruce may be in their home world but it is as if they were both still with only each other in the plane of Gehenna ... Diana and Bruce ... all alone.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Second panel ... Bruce stops somewhere facing in silence a magic sunset matching his current mood ... Diana follows until she stands next to him.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Again he tells her he doesn’t want company ... “mhm”, she acknowledges ... the wind blows in her hair, she tries to fix it ... silence ...

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

The wind blows, she gives up, letting her hair flow around her face... A little chat ... Bruce turns around, fleeing the battlefield again ...

Third panel ... Hell ... a full page , 7 pictures, only two sentences, 8 little words...  pure magic from G. Rucka and the other artists.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

This time Diana is inside Wayne Manor ... looking at the giant painting of Bruce’s Parents... deep in thoughts ... wondering what exactly pushed Bruce to their graves after Superman’s revelation.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Bruce is in the kitchen ... Diana enters as if she was at home and drops her jacket ... approaching the table, they exchange a look ... She takes a seat, her usual seat? then Diana waits for him to make his move ... She smiles ... She just owns the place ... Bruce isn’t surprised, he expected her, he waited for her, even made some tea in the meantime... did he flee earlier ? or did he just want to get them a comfortable place to be and talk ? ... He probably wouldn’t have made tea “for two” if he wanted to be left alone ... He knew she wouldn’t give up on him no matter how strong he would push her away, so there was no need to put more conviction in the game ... that’s what they learned in Gehenna ... they may both give up the fight for their mission, but they never ever give up on each other... Bruce knew he wouldn’t win that battle. Not with Diana, so he didn’t really try. Actually Bruce needed her and she came ...

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

And the only sentences exchanged between the two in the whole panel are so domestic ... “Tea ?” ... ”That would be lovely, Bruce.” ... That bright, sly, smile on Diana’s face reveals everything  ... she knows she was right and won their little fight ... he won’t push her away again, he doesn’t even want her away ... they are going to talk. But she needs to let him space ... Diana just has to let him lead the way now.

Is it even possible to make it more obvious how much they know each other, care for each other ... those two don’t even need J’onn J’ozz to communicate without speaking ... they only need an brief eye contact.

Fourth panel ... more silence ...

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Bruce needs to collect his thoughts ... Diana sips her tea ...

Then he talks, but Diana plays dumb ... she wants him to express his problem, to name it... Diana is very smart here ... because she cannot really get a grip on what is hurting him so hard. She needs to get it out of him ... she knows the real problem is hidden deep under layers and layers ... and this isn’t really about Clark keeping a secret from him ... from them.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Of course they talk about Superman revealing that he was “Clark Kent” and even if Diana plays dumb, she still says something very interesting here ... she calls him “KAL” while Bruce is upset because of “Clark” ... I think this way Diana tells him that Superman still didn’t tell the truth ... because “Clark Kent” is just another identity ... “KAL” is the kryptonian man who lives on earth under the disguise of “Clark Kent” and who is called “Superman” when he plays Superhero... just like Bruce is a human who lives a fake life as a Playboy and CEO when he is not playing Superhero and called “Batman” otherwise ... I think it is her way to say the Superman is still Lying even if it is to himself. Still she can give “Superman/Clark Kent” a name describing the real him “KAL”... while “Bruce” uses his own birthname for a partly faked persona ...

In “Superman : Villains #1″, Supergirl, still under the effect of the Batman Who Laughts Toxin tells pretty much the same as what I think Diana tries to convey here.

But Bruce is too upset to listen to her ... So he gives her a list of reasons why this is bad, partly accurate partly disputable ... so she counters him even if her own arguments is accurate/disputable as well ... nothing is simple ... but this isn’t about “Superman”, something Diana understood quickly ... if it was only about “Clark” or “Kal”, Bruce wouldn’t be this upset... How long have Diana and Bruce been married again ?... Yeah, Right,.. something like 37 years in Hell ...

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Several millennia and all the Wisdom of Athena speaks thru Diana while she harbors that sly smile. Bruce gets silent again, Diana saw right thru him, maybe better than he did himself.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Bruce flees again ... but does he really ? Since the beginning he doesn’t really push hard and Diana knows it ... You just get the feeling he wants her to follow him ... maybe he needs her to help him figure out why he really is that upset..

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

The Batcave ... it looks as if they were getting more and more deeper, more personal ... First the world outside, then inside his home, and now his most secret part... maybe another symbolic meaning ... to show how Diana is getting closer to the real hidden reason.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

By the look of Bruce’s sneer, you can tell he is angry, hateful even... but Diana never feels threatened in any way, she feels safe, even “Poking the Bear” a little as shown by her mischievous look... until it suddenly downs on her !! ...

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Can we just relish in that view for a moment ? ... Perfect female body meets perfect male body .... Aargh !! ... can’t they just go down on it ! ... OK ! I need to get some self control back ... sorry !

What Diana sees... is Bruce staring at his suits, his disguises, his secrets, his ... enemy ? ... Batman ? ... now she can SEE what hurts him so hard !

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

Diana figured out the truth ! ... Bruce is first in denial, then thinking and accepting it ... Bruce goes from angry, to sad and beaten...

One part of the amazing points of this story is Diana’s statement when she compares “Bruce” and “Kal”.  Whoever thought Wonder Woman wouldn’t value the “powerless” Bat when compared to the “godlike” Superman is going to wake up with a serious headache ... For Diana, the only thing Clark can do, that Bruce can’t, is what we all do ... “live without a secret identity” ... anything else she considers Bruce does at least as good as Clark if not better ... BAM ! ... I honestly didn’t expect to read that in a comic about Superman ! ... And this coming from non other then Powerhouse number two Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, Princess of the Amazon, daughter of Zeus gifted with the Wisdom of Athena ... that was mind-blowing !!

But to be honest such appreciative comments from Diana, somewhere in between admiration and adoration, happen more and more often lately in different DC comics.

(Edit from several DC Comics books)

I would say we’ve gone back when Diana considered Clark as “Good husband material” for Lois, while “Bruce” was “Fast, Dangerous, the thrill ride..” ... back then, even Clark understood who Diana’s heart would settled with...

(Edit from several DC Comics Trinity(2008) #6 and Blackest Night:WW(2010) )

This was of course before the New52 nonsense hit the fan...

 (Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

The other great point is that “Bruce” ... is jealous of “Kal” ... What !? how is that great ?

For the Dark Knight, admitting this kind of weakness to anyone is pretty much unthinkable ... unless it is to Diana. I think Bruce and Diana are now closer than Bruce and Clark ever were. But this jealousy is as well the proof that there is a man behind the Batman, behind the Playboy ... someone who doesn’t really like either of them, someone who dreams of family, home, of the freedom to live a normal happy life. The Princess of Themyscira is one of the only women (if not the only one) to have access to that man, the real “Bruce”.

Bruce is someone who can’t be reduced to “the Batman” as often said. He is a man, a Hero who decided to play that role, a man who made it his duty to fight crime and to protect those who can’t do it for themselves. Just like Diana did when she chose to become “Wonder Woman” and leave the paradise island of  Themyscira for Men’s world. He is jealous, and is ashamed of it, because he should grant it to his best friend Clark/Kal. It is his dream to have that kind life, a dream Diana shares as well ... but both have decided long ago that their Duties were more important and had to be done at any personal cost.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman:Heroes #1)

But there is another message in this Jealousy ...

Over the last 50 years, it had been explained several times that Bruce Wayne chooses his romantic partners with a purpose as described in the story with Bekka (in January 2008): Relationships must fail.

(Edit from DC Comics Superman Batman(2003) #42 - story with Bekka)

If Bruce is Jealous about Clark’s “Home, Family” life this means he is now ready to a real longtime commitment with a woman. He wants that now. Over the years he matured (just like “Batfleck” in the DCEU). Keeping his distance with Diana because of their friendship all those years was only part of the excuse. He always chose his partners to fail ... and with Diana he knew a relationship would have a high risk of succeding. I think Diana was always more ready to start something with him at least judging by the way she smiled when she woke up from the “Transconciousness Articulator”, but she changed her mind once he told her he didn’t want to know what was “lurking in his mind” ... Back then Diana knew he wasn’t ready.

Bruce Wayne is ready now ... Is this what Tom King meant when he said he changed Batman for the Decade to come, that he put his “Mark” on Bruce Wayne ?  His Batman/Catwoman run proved one thing to the shareholders... the Batman fans are ready to have their Hero seriously committed to a Woman. In fact the love story didn’t drop the sales but supported them. Tom King showed Batman sells better as a “Man in love” then as a lone Wolf ...

Still a lot of fans understand that an untrustworthy and still active criminal like Selina can’t possibly be the best match for the crusader of Justice ... and while Diana seems still to adore him, after that little chat in the Cave and the 37 years in Gehenna, she should have understood by now that he is ready for something really serious ... So ... “Perhaps ....” hopefully in the near future ...

Something Else - Trans!(O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) F!Reader

Summary: “You’ll get there someday!” Mirio always says. “You’ll do bette next time.” Tamaki doesn’t want to get there someday. And if every Alpha always does, well, maybe he’s something else then.

Warnings: None.

Feedback is welcome!

(I do not own the picture)

AO3

Prologue | Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5

————————— Epilogue

“Cheers!”  

The loud sound of glass clinking against glass made Tamaki flinch, but to see Mirio and Nejire’s bright expressions, and his mate’s proud look, it was worth the slight discomfort.  

Tonight was his leaving do from Fat gum’s agency. After four years of loyal service, he was finally creating his own agency with Mirio and Nejire. The thought was as exciting as it was frightening. He had gotten used to working with the Pro Hero, as the specifics of their quirks made them a nice pair. Still, the thought of working with his best friends was appealing, and when a few months ago, Mirio had brought up their childhood dream of becoming Pro Heroes working together... He had accepted.  

Nejire had joined in their project with her usual enthusiasm, as her contract with the agency she worked at was coming to an end anyway. Tamaki knew his mate would have joined too, but she couldn’t for the time being, her work with Gang Orca slowly but surely coming to fruition . In a year or two, maybe .  

The Omega had been a bit disappointed to hear that, but after a few days of sulking and a calm discussion, he had come around it. It was hard sometimes working with people you loved, and as long as she came back to him every night, he would be happy.  

Tonight’s gathering was also the occasion to celebrate with his friends the three-year landmark since the beginning of his transition. By now, he no longer felt any of the after-effects that had plagued him for a year and a half after the treatment. His scent was now clear as that of any Omega, sweet enough for his mate to get drunk on it. Hearing people refer to him as an Alpha in the present tense had gotten rarer and rarer; and now that he was bonded to his ever-loving mate, and had a job he liked with his best friends as colleagues, it seemed nothing could get more perfect.  

Being able to be true to himself had been a real awakening for Tamaki, who had gone a long way since his high school days in matters of self-esteem. While he was not the most assertive hero, and he still got shy around people he did not know, Tamaki was a whole lot more confident now than he had been as an Alpha. Confident in himself, in his abilities. Every time he looked at his mate, as she was engaging in a lively conversation with one of Fatgum’s Beta sidekicks, he saw the flash of purple, gold and white around her neck, and he was reminded of it.  

As he had been injured and on medical leave for a while about a year ago, he had reluctantly tried crocheting again, hoping to kill some time until his Alpha could come home to him. Much to his surprise, now that he was free of the pressure and expectancy of him to craft a courting gift, he had found the activity much more enjoyable. After a few tries, he had been able to gift his Alpha a present he was actually proud of; a new scarf in his colors, that he had scented at her request –to motivate her to come back earlier, she had joked, but he knew it was because of how much his Omega’s scent calmed her whenever her Alpha went in a frenzy.  

He had complied, secretly happy to have her wear his scent. Though much of her Alpha’s overzealousness was now channeled towards him, she was still known to show a lot of care towards any Omega she might find, fussing particularly over the civilians she was rescuing. Tamaki knew it to be her nature, and he loved her for it, but sometimes, he was a bit afraid these Omegas would get ideas and get attached to his mate. She was aware of his sentiments on the matter, of course, and often asked him to thoroughly scent her before she left for work, if only to bring peace to his mind.  

“Excuse me, Suneater?”  

Tamaki startled, looking away from his mate and to a girl wearing UA’s uniform. She looked young enough, probably in second year. Tamaki didn’t seek to breathe in her scent, a habit he found distasteful as he knew full well one’s identity was not dictated by their scent, but as he took an inspiration to calm his anxiety, it was the absence of any particular smell that made him tick. She was using scent blockers.  

“Y-yes?”  

In the background, Tamaki heard his mate end her conversation with the sidekick, and he felt her move closer to him. It comforted him slightly, as the bubbly student introduced herself.  

“I am sorry to bother you, but I have something pretty important to ask you.” She didn’t beat around the bush, displaying an engaging grin. “I’m a second-year in UA, and I am j ust like you .”  

In the way she emphasized the words, and coupled with the eerie lack scent emanating from her, the Pro Hero immediately understood what she meant.  

While the shy boy didn’t go out of his way to let it know that he hadn’t always been an Omega, he hadn’t done anything to hide it either, and with some researches online, any fan could come across this information. Fans ; he had not always expected to have them. He didn’t shine by his personality like Lemillion , or by his feats like All Might. Still, he had been proven wrong when Fatgum’s agency had started receiving fan mail about him as well; a lot of praise, of thanks, some gifts –some of them profoundly inappropriate.    

He had received some heartfelt letters, about how knowing he was one of ‘them’ had inspired a few into transitioning as well; or about how they dealt with their assigned second gender, not wanting the treatment. All of them moved to learn there was a Hero somewhat like them in the noticeable rankings.  

“I am hosting an awareness event at the school in two weeks. You have been a huge inspiration to me, you’re a Pro Hero a lot of us can relate to, and seeing you being well on your way to the top makes me feel like maybe I have a chance too.”  

Tamaki looked down in embarrassment, flattered yet nervous. One thing caught his attention, though, below the student’s neck. There, hooked to the strap of her bag, a vibrantly colored pin with the symbols of the Alpha, the Beta and the Omega artistically intertwined.  

“I want to make it so that students like us in the Hero course, and all other classes, know they are not alone and that they are not freaks. I want all the others to listen too. We can’t have allies if they’re not even aware we exist!” She chuckled, Tamaki’s silence seemingly making her a bit unsure.  

He felt his Alpha link her fingers with his, and caught her look of fond encouragement. She squeezed his hand, looking pointedly over to the teen and then at him again.  

The shy young man cleared his throat, shaking slightly his head to try to stop his anxiety from taking over.  

“It-it’s a great project.” He finally answered, his free hand fiddling with the fabric of his cape. “I hope many will come to listen. D-did principal Nezu give you access to the main lecture theater?”  

The student smiled; her cheeks ever so tinted from joy to hear her idol approved of her initiative.  

“He did. I hope it will be filled with fellow students. I have invited several Pro Heroes, whom I found to be overtly trans, to come share their story and point of view. So, I guess a number of students will come, if only out of curiosity.”  

Tamaki nodded; it did not really matter the motivations that brought the students at this conference, so long as they stayed to hear the point of the meeting.  

The student seemed to hesitate a bit, as if suddenly overcome with some shyness.  

“It would mean a lot to me if you could come and share your experience too.”  

She must have felt how much he tensed at the prospect, for she immediately looked to regret the anxiousness she had projected upon him.  

“Your mate could come too, as an ally, of course!” She assured him, which only seemed to relax him a tiny bit.  

Tamaki’s hand was so tight against his mate’s, he was surprised the Alpha didn’t pull from him. Instead, she let out a low purr, her other hand coming to rub his arm in slow movements of comfort. The Pro Hero closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, focusing on the agreeable sensation of her purrs vibrating through him.  

When he opened his eyelids again, he exhaled and smiled hesitantly, gathering all of his courage.  

“I’ll come.” He affirmed, not as loudly as he would have liked, but he had put the words out there and that was the only thing that mattered.  

He knew he would not regret his decision until the moment he would have to speak in front of these students; but the knowledge that his past self would have most probably missed this opportunity out of shyness cemented his decision. He was sincerely interested in this event, felt honored and timidly pleased to have been invited. He would be afraid, but he would not regret.  

The student’s face broke into a relieved grin.  

“Thank you so much!” She opened her bag and rummaged through it for a few seconds, before coming up with a pastel colored paper. “Here’s a flyer for you. I won’t bother you any more than that. I’ll see you then!”  

She bowed slightly to them, fully intent on leaving them to enjoy their night. Still, as she was closing her bag and turning away, Tamaki caught sight of something shiny in her bag, and yelped out a ‘wait!’.  

By now, his hand was crushing his mate’s, but he timidly looked up at the younger girl. When he spoke, his tried to keep nervous stutter at bay; in vain.  

“I-if you n-need an internship, o-or an agency to work with for Hero studies... F-feel free to c-contact me.” He felt his mate purr just a little louder in surprise, and in the way she squeezed his arm quickly, he knew he had her approbation. “Also...”  

His trembling free hand left the abused fabric of his costume to shakily point at the pin on her bag’s strap.  

“D-do you have more?” His cheeks set ablaze, and he immediately looked down, hoping his hair might hide his flaming cheeks.  

There was a moment of silence, before the Alpha chuckled and nosed his shoulder tenderly, breaking the student’s shock. The younger girl opened her bag again with colored cheeks as she bashfully explained she made them herself; eyeing carefully the Alpha to know if it was okay for her to give it to the Omega.  

When the young woman nodded with peaceful eyes, the student was extending one to Tamaki, visibly flattered.  

The Hero slowly released his mate’s hand, and gingerly took the little object in both his hands.  

“Thank you.” He whispered, still too embarrassed to properly face the creative student.  

After a few words of goodbye and promise of seeing each other at the awareness event in UA, to which Tamaki knew his mate wouldn’t mind going, he sighed in relief.  

Without a word, the Alpha led him to a quieter part of the hall, letting him rest from the social exhaustion.  

“I’m proud of you.” She whispered in his ear as she treaded her hands through his hair while she leaned to kiss his cheek softly.  

Tamaki purred contentedly, taking deep inhales of her scent. He was proud of himself, too.  

Her hands trailed down to his, and she seized the little pin. It was similar to that the girl wore, in different colors, less vibrant, more appeasing. It suited him.  

“Help me put it on?” He quietly asked.  

His Alpha’s nimble fingers hooked the pin to the fabric of his cape, just above his heart. The colors fit nicely with the rest of his hero costume; discreet but present.  

“There.”  

She leaned back; eyes squinted ever so slightly in admiration, a fond smile on her lips, and a tender purr in the air.  

“You’re perfect.”  

——————

That’s it folks ! The epilogue to Something Else. 

I hope you all liked it, if you did, feel free to leave a comment !

✰ say a little prayer: an outtake ✰

*a harry-centric drabble from sleeping on our problems taking place the five days after louis told harry about the baby.

(obviously: major spoilers from the fic!

a birthday present for @louislyrics <3 thank you for asking the question that sparked this!

The door shuts behind Louis with a dull thud, silence echoing as Harry stares at the wood, mouth still dropped open with his protest lingering on his lips. 

A wave of nausea rises in him, strengthened only by his disbelief, confusion, and slowly festering panic. 

Pregnant. Louis is pregnant. 

With his baby. 

The panic grows, tightening in his chest and filling his lungs. He exhales jaggedly, hands shaking as he sits down on his bed stiffly and places them on his knees, bracing himself.

He’s twenty. He’s twenty years old and he’s gone and knocked up an omega. He’s just recently been picked as captain. The season is picking up soon and he’s got classes and responsibilities and he’s knocked up an omega. 

A product of him and Louis has been planted in Louis’ stomach and will grow into a living breathing human after just nine and a half months. The white gap on his wall between his window and a poster sears into his burning eyes as he stares blankly. 

He doesn’t realize someone has entered his room until a hand lands on his shoulder, jerking him out of his tense actions. Liam’s face slowly comes into view when he glances down, a worried furrow between his brow. 

His mouth is open too, closing and widening as if pronouncing syllables and words, trying to communicate - except Harry can hardly hear a word through the thundering of his heart, deafening in his ears and making his vision go blurry. 

“Harry,” Liam says, maybe for the fifth or dozenth time, “Harry, are you okay?” 

Opening his mouth, he is unable to respond. Is he okay? Is he okay after finding out he’s going to be a father when he’s only twenty years old? 

And it’s like - Harry has always known he wants children, wants to find a nice omega and settle down and put a baby or a bunch of babies in them. He wants to have a family. He gets off on the idea, for fuck’s sake. But it’s different having it sprung on him so suddenly. It’s different because he’s not ready. Not even close. 

He’s Captain for fuck’s sake. He’s got a year to play well and play hard to up his chances of being drafted to a good team in the summer. Not to mention, an entire team not to let down. Hockey is his life - it’s been his life since he first got onto the ice at eight years old and fuck, he wants it to continue being his life for a long time. 

“H, you’re worrying me, what’s wrong?” Liam continues, sounding completely bewildered. Harry can’t blame him. He’s Harry - always cool headed, calm, and driven. Not much rattles him, though it’s safe to say this definitely has. 

“Liam,” he says slowly, voice hoarse. He forces himself to make eye contact with the fellow alpha, taking a deep shuddery breath. “Liam, I’m going to be a dad.” 

He watches as the words process and Liam’s face morphs into one of disbelief. He watches as Liam looks at him, face pale once he sees the tears in Harry’s eyes and the raw honesty on his face. He watches as he realizes it’s the truth. 

Fumbling for words, Liam sits down on the bed beside him. “Um,” he starts, giving Harry an anxious look. 

Shaking his head, Harry explains properly. He reminds Liam about Louis, the omega he hooked up with at their end-of-summer party and who helped him with his rut. He tells him that Louis wants to keep the baby. “I mean, s’his body, his choice, of course,” he says panickedly. “But he also wants to know if I want to be involved and-” He cuts off, unable to continue. 

Liam is silent for a bit. “What’re you going to do?” he asks eventually, voice soft and gentle. 

It’s still enough for Harry to break. Suddenly he’s crying into his hands, shaking because he has no fucking idea what he’s going to do. He’s twenty - he’s twenty years old and he has no fucking idea what he’s doing. 

He thinks of Louis. Sweet and beautiful Louis who’s caught his eye more than any omega he’s ever met, who his inner alpha feels an inexplicable pull towards, against his mind’s wishes. If he hadn’t been so dedicated to hockey, he wonders how things might have been between them. If this would be playing out a little differently. 

Most of all he wonders how Louis isn’t in pieces like him. He’s the same age as Harry and yet he was so sure - so certain of this new permanent fixture in his life. 

Even when he left, face crumpled and close to tears much to the torment of his inner alpha, there was no trace of regret or doubt in his face. He wants to keep the baby. He’s okay with being a mother and raising a child. 

Meanwhile Harry feels like he’s going to puke. He keeps crying, letting Liam awkwardly pat his back and murmur semi-encouraging words, struggling to handle an emotionally distressed Harry when he’s never even seen him cry before today. But Harry soaks up the little bit of comfort Liam offers, closing his eyes shut and wanting to scream because the ultrasound picture  he left on his desk is still branded across his eyelids. 

One thing’s for sure, he needs to make a decision here. But first he has to come to terms with it. 

-

Harry wakes up on Sunday morning and almost forgets the revelation of the evening before. 

He told Liam to tell their frat brothers he was feeling ill and would be eating in his room. Then he proceeded to have his dinner, which was tasteless and overall unappealing to him, while staring aimlessly at his laptop screen where Criminal Minds was playing. He remembers nothing of the two episodes he watched, putting his laptop on the nightstand and yanking his clothes off so he can sleep about three hours earlier than usual. 

Though he forgets, it comes back to him like a knife to the chest when he glances at his desk where the ultrasound is sitting, black and white little blob and all. He sucks in a breath and then exhales through his nose, heading to the door and slamming the door shut behind him.

Liam must have told the others to leave him alone because no one comes up to tell him good morning or complain about current chore assignments. He’s sure he’s radiating frustrated pheromones as he grabs some cereal and an energy drink. 

There’s a morning practice in half an hour so Harry brings his breakfast upstairs with him, eating as he gets dressed and grabs his stuff. 

He stares at the ultrasound as he gathers his gear, eyes latched onto it even when he’s stuffing everything in his duffel along with his water bottle, before turning his head and looking away. He pushes it all down. 

Striving to the door, he hesitates, glancing back at the desk. With an exhausted sigh, he walks back to the desk.

After spending the entire morning avoiding the elephant in the room, it all comes rushing back to him, a heavy weight in his lungs making it hard for him to breathe. But he makes himself look at the paper, lets himself study the small blob in the middle that will be his and Louis’ pup.

His pup. His child. 

He wonders what they’d look like. Would they look more like him or Louis? He imagines a baby in his head but its face flashes between Louis’ delicate features and his sharper ones, Louis’ big blue eyes and his green ones, Louis’ soft smile and his own. 

“Harry,” Liam says, knocking gently on the door. He’s cautious as he reminds Harry that they have to get to practice.

Harry nods, gnawing on his lip. “I’ll meet you down there,” he murmurs, not moving his eyes from the ultrasound picture. There’s traces of Louis’ scent on it, sweet ripe strawberries. So lovely and intoxicating and so much deeper now. Deeper because of the baby. He glances at Liam who hasn’t left, a concerned frown on his face. “I’m fine,” he swears, voice lowering to a whisper. 

Liam dips his head to his chest in acknowledgment and backs out of the room. 

Heart fluttering painfully, Harry realizes that he just spent five minutes thinking about his child and not panicking. 

Examining the black and white sheet carefully, he folds it gently and tucks it into his jacket pocket. It sits there like a promise through the entire day. 

-

Harry spends the next couple of days going through his normal routines and attending classes and practice completely dazed. He zones out during lectures, mind wandering to heartbeats and tiny limbs. He’s distant with his frat brothers and absent from his friends; ignoring text messages and Snapchats and cutting all interactions with everyone, except Liam, short. His mind is constantly spinning with thoughts of ultrasounds, parenting, and panic. 

How is he expected to talk to people normally when a lump the size of a boulder is clawing up his throat and fighting to spill out, his thoughts utterly consumed by something the size of a cherry. 

(A size of a cherry. That’s what the internet said when he googled information on babies at 9 weeks in the middle of Music Theory. Itty bitty. Just bigger than the pad of his thumb.)

He’s distracted in practice and everyone notices, including Coach, who pulls him aside during a practice game to tell him off for being sloppy. He’s captain for fuck’s sake and the season is just kicking off. He can’t afford to be so spaced out - he’s lectured on this point over and over, head ducked and shame curling in his stomach. 

And yet, he can’t stop himself from pulling the picture out of his pocket during class or practice or in the middle of the night when he wakes up staring at the ceiling, while his insecurities and nerves whirl around him like a never ending nightmare. 

The folds grow cracked and worn with the amount of times he opens and refolds the paper; looking, staring, and memorizing the lines of his future pup as his heart beats painfully. 

On Wednesday, three days after he found out, he calls his mom.

She answers with a, “Hey, lovey,” like she always does, chipper and happy.

Harry swallows, closing his eyes. When he speaks, his voice shakes. “Mom, I have something to tell you.” 

As if sensing the panic in his voice, her response is soft and encouraging. “You can tell me anything, darling.”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” he whispers. 

“You’ve never disappointed me and you never will,” she says easily, sounding confused and curious. 

It doesn’t make him feel any better. His stomach is twisting painfully when he finally works up the courage to blurt it out. “I got someone pregnant.” 

His mother’s shock is palpable, bleeding through the phone and seeping into his skin until he’s flinching, the hitch in her breathing almost deafening to his ringing ears. 

Before he knows it, his tears are brimming again. 

“Mom,” he says desperately. “Say something.” 

“Harry,” she says. “Oh my god.”

Needless to say, he starts crying again. The whole story comes tumbling out and his mother is achingly indecipherable, asking him questions about if they used protection (no, but Louis had been on birth control) and how far along Louis is (9 weeks and 4 days as far as Harry knows) and how well they know each other (“Not well at all,” he had been forced to admit). 

“Honey,” she starts, voice gentle but firm. “I’m your mother and you know I always want the best for you. But you also know I’ll never bullshit you, which is why I feel comfortable telling you that there’s a right and wrong decision to make here and I swear to God, Harry Edward Styles, that if you choose the wrong path - the coward’s path, I will come up there and -”

“Mom, I’m not abandoning him,” he interrupts, gaping. “What the fuck?”

“I know you’re not,” she scoffs. “I meant if you choose not to have a joint-custody. I know you, darling, and I know how much you’d regret it if you let one of your own flesh and blood slip through your fingers even when you’re as young as you are.”

“I…” He trails off, swallowing. “How am I supposed to raise a child when I want to be in the NHL?”

“How is this omega supposed to carry a child while attending classes and living his own life?” she counters. “I’ll tell you how. You figure it out. You work your ass off and you come up with solutions and you never give up. When it comes to family, you can move mountains if need be.” 

Harry exhales, words embedding themselves into his skin and sticking there. He nods even though she can’t see him. She’s right. She’s completely right. It’s been four days and his pup is still just an embryo but he’s already attached. He’s in too deep and there’s no way he can settle for anything less than as much as he can get. “What about weekends?” he suggests.

“Weekends,” Anne repeats. “Is that what you want?” 

He takes his time to respond, mulling it over and considering every option. Is it possible for me to do this? he thinks. Is it possible that he can live and breathe hockey and other obligations while still being a father that his pup deserves?

In the end, it’s an easy question to answer. 

“Yes,” he says, no signs of hesitance or doubt in his voice. “It’s what I want.”

“I’m glad to hear that, darling. So glad. But I also need you to understand. Being a parent will change your life forever - it’s the most satisfying and fulfilling and beautiful thing, but it’s hard. Looking after another human being is a full-time commitment and I know you want kids, but it’s different when you’re actually having them.”

“I know,” he says. He’ll need to do research and tag along to appointments and be as involved as he can. He’ll need to find time for his pup - make time for them - both before and after they’re born. “I’ll do my best.”

“And I don’t care if you and this omega are nothing but strangers,” she continues fiercely. “That child is half yours and this omega will be carrying it for the both of you these next nine months. You better be there trying to make it even a little bit easier for him every step of the way.”

He sputters. “Of course,” he says, defensive. “I would hope you’d expect better of me than that.”

“And I’d hope I raised you well enough that you’ll treat this omega as good as if he were your own omega and support him as much as possible,” she says.

“You did, I will,” he argues, brows furrowing. He thinks about Louis and how much discomfort, pain, and struggles he’ll have to endure over his pregnancy and how he knows he’ll handle it brilliantly. Because Louis is smart and determined and he’s going to be a brilliant mother. 

He knows it. 

“I love you and I’m proud of you,” his mother says after a beat, voice softening. “And I’ll be here for you whenever you need me, honey. Just a few hours away. For you and Louis.”

It’s the first time she’s said his name out loud and Harry’s heart does a funny thing at the sound. “I love you too,” he says belatedly. 

“Robin’s going to be home in a few minutes, so stay on,” she says. “I want you to be the one to tell him the news. You have to tell your sister too, but maybe in a little bit. I don’t want to overwhelm you, darling. But how long do you think is the appropriate time to wait before telling the relatives?”

Harry can’t help but smile as she rambles on but it fades as his earlier worries return. She wants to tell the relatives but Harry’s still scrambling to process, to believe. 

“Mom,” he says, voice ragged. 

“Yes, lovey?” she asks softly, sensing his distress.  

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad?” he breathes, wiping a stray tear with the back of his hand. He hears his mother’s shocked inhale before she’s crying too, telling Harry of course, darling, the best dad in the entire world. 

And Harry, through his tears and worries and anguish, believes her. He can feel it in his bones, in his mind, in his heart. He will be. For his pup, he’d be anything. 

They stay on the phone for hours. 

-

It’s Thursday afternoon, five days after he found out, and Harry’s staring at the creased and wrinkled ultrasound picture - staring at his future - when he pulls out his phone and writes out a text. 

Hey Louis...

-

this is one of quite a few drabbles i have on a list for already-posted fics and the first one i’ve actually finished (whoops) - hopefully i’ll get to the others too!! :) this was really fun for me to write and i hope it was nice to read :)

thank you @soldouthaz and chelsea for looking this over for me! <33

And other question: “Tell us a little bit about yourself”. It's always interesting to know more about your favorite author) Thanks a lot🖤

First of all, thank you!  Being one of someone’s favorite authors is a huge compliment and very humbling.  I appreciate your interest in both me and my stories!

To start (*avoids eye contact* *lowers voice*), I’m American.  I know we all look like lunatics right now, but I swear, I’m normal.  I live in the Pacific Northwest.  I’ve spent most of my life paying tuition and sitting in lecture halls.  After nine years of school, I finally graduated with my terminal degree.  Now I’m an oncology pharmacist who works for a healthcare system with inpatient services and several ambulatory clinics.  I work with brilliant people.  I love my coworkers.  I’ve finally been able to travel the world and see the amazing sites I only dreamed about growing up and in school.  I have a cat, dog, and husband.

When it comes to writing, I’ve written stories for as long as I can remember.  When I learned how to spell “Hi,” I wrote a story with crayon animals saying “hi” to each other on each page.  I kept a wad of notebook-page stories in my nightstand from first grade through high school.  I never planned to be a professional writer, since that wasn’t a “responsible” career route.  Instead I went into science and medicine.  Throughout my years at the university, my writing became less and less, and by the time I entered graduate school, I had put it away completely.  

It probably would have stayed that way if I hadn’t become disillusioned with my career.  I was always the A+ student.  It was part of my identity.  When I graduated, I assumed my career would be this grand thing.  I’d be valued for what I brought to the organization.  I’d go above and beyond, and it would matter in some small way.  As it turned out, medicine is very corporate.  

I became a cog in the wheel.  I got tired of management telling my team, “Go ahead and quit.  It’s easier for us to replace you, than it is for you to find a new job.”  The whole “Get off the bus if you don’t like it” mantra was something I heard at least every other week, not necessarily said directly to me as an individual, but to my coworkers as a group.  I saw how other exceptional employees were treated.  I saw how my efforts never went anywhere.  I had no individual worth to management or administration.  If I was so replaceable then even the higher calling of patient care didn’t really matter.  If whether it was me or some random person off the street sitting in that seat, it didn’t make a difference to administration, then my individual contribution to patient care was obviously generic and relatively insignificant.

I was inhibited improving programs or providing education, advancing anything, problem solving for efficiency, and all my extra work either got me in trouble in some weird round-about way or simply was wasted effort.  For instance, I was really excited about developing a dose-rounding policy for the outpatient clinic.  I had read recent guidelines issued by NCCN/HOPA.  I talked to my boss.  She patted me on the head and said sure.  I drafted a policy, complied sources, worked hard on documents and presentation material for the physicians.  Then it emailed it to my boss.  Month after month, I’d ask her, “Have you brought that to the doctors?”  Month after month, she’d forget.  Finally, I stopped asking.  A year and half later, one of the doctors brought up dosing rounding in a meeting.  My boss didn’t even remember I’d worked on it.  She told the MD it was such a good idea and assigned one of my coworkers to work on it and create a policy to present.  Going above and beyond only lead to frustration and hurt.

To me, what mattered was getting the job done well and having a harmonious, good working relationship with co-workers.  That’s not what mattered to my boss.  I got tired of being told I was a good clinician, but I didn’t smile enough.  I got in trouble if I didn’t come to her office to “hi” to her in the morning.  She was put out I hadn’t told her my grandma died but told a coworker.  How I did my job clinically didn’t matter.  

I discovered administration just wanted someone to clock in, clock out, do the factory conveyer-type work of daily duties and do nothing else.  I not only couldn’t share an opinion, I had to not have one at all.  I could leave, but staying near my family was important. I stayed, but I realized: my career had to be a job.  It couldn’t be a part of my identity.  I would never feel accomplished or have a sense of individual worth or achievement from my paycheck job.

That’s when I turned back to writing.  I tried a few original novels that went nowhere.  After playing ME, I lacked closure and wrote an ending for myself.  It turned into 300 k words, and my sister encouraged me to try posting it on a website.  From there, I found FFN and eventually AO3.  I’ve written ME fanfiction ever since.  I enjoy it.  It gives me something to do that brings me more joy than my actual job.  I’ve been studying self-publishing and maybe one day I’ll take the leap.  I don’t intend to leave my day job, since I spent 9 years and $100,000 getting my degree, but at least, I have an area of my life where I feel like I matter as an individual.  I achieve something I can be proud of.  

It’s been a few years since I posted my first ME fanfiction, and I have met several amazing people.  I’ve made good friends.  We get excited over each other’s story and share interests.  I’m so thankful for them.  Plus, I’ve read some amazing fanfic and enjoyed being part of a community.  Everything someone writes is worthwhile and appreciated by someone.  We improve and encourage each other.  No one’s better than anyone else.  We’re skilled in different areas and have our own spin when it comes to writing.  Some people are primarily readers and make a fanfic writer’s day by enjoying their story.  It’s all worthwhile.  It’s fun to be in a group where you’re worth comes from being yourself, not a voice-box-less automaton who smiles and says “hi” and “good bye” every morning and every evening.  

As for the future, I’ve been able to join professional writers’ facebook groups and read books about self-publishing and marketing.  I’ll keep with my day job, but now I feel less frustrated and listless.  I’m just there for the paycheck and for the enjoyment of my immediate coworkers, who again, I’ll say, are brilliant human beings.  I’m lucky to work with them.  With writing, though, I can achieve something and advance myself.  I focus on the people in my life for real satisfaction and have a hobby where I can progress myself and feel proud of what I achieve.

That’s my story.  Not very exciting, but that’s my path to writing fanfic in a nutshell.  I think it’s important that everyone has an area in their life where they find joy in accomplishing something for themself.

Thank you for the ask!  I’m sure that was more than you were expecting to get an answer.  All my short stories turn into long fics, even this one.  Lol!  Again, I appreciate your interest very much!

A fanfic..!

Edit: AO3 with more chapters!

Star Trek Discovery Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets Before Discovery General audiences / Not beta read

Paul sits in the dim hotel lobby, tapping on his thigh with one hand and mindlessly browsing a PADD with the other. There is text on the screen he doesn’t read, and pictures he glances over but doesn’t look at.

His heart jumps at an incoming message.

“Be there in 20 minutes”, Hugh writes.

Paul is frozen staring at the message pop up until it disappears. His hand stops the nervous tapping to grab the PADD from the glass table, and to write back.

“Can’t wait.”

And he really can’t. 20 minutes, still? Paul feels like he’s been waiting for weeks – and technically he has. But he’s only sat in the hotel lobby for a while, just long enough to finish a cup of coffee and go trough his presentation one more time, sloppily. Hardly a way in which he does anything, usually. He takes pride in being very particular about his work.

But not this weekend.

After an unexpected encounter on Alpha Centauri 6 weeks ago – Paul checks in his head, yes, it really has been 6 weeks since he met Hugh – they’ve only been in contact via video calls and messages. Not that it hadn’t been nice – it’s been very nice – Paul was starting to get impatient with not being close to Hugh, physically.

For a while, he had been afraid to say anything, in case Hugh felt differently. He had tried to focus on his work, only messaging Hugh once or twice a day compared to the earlier long daily conversations and calls.

He didn’t mean to get so lost in the research, but that’s just who he was. One day, he had forgotten to message Hugh completely. He had spent his entire day calculating and testing yet another idea for harnessing the potential of the spore drive. It didn’t work.

He returned to his apartment, overlooking the research station on Deneva, defeated and annoyed. He had frustratedly kicked off his shoes, thrown his jacket on the couch, rest of his clothes leaving a messy trail to the bathroom. He didn’t pay much attention to anything while showering. He’s pretty sure he had washed himself.

Stepping out of the bathroom to be met with the warm glow of the Denevian sunset, Paul sighed.

Instantly, there was a muffled vibration coming from somewhere near the entrance to his apartment.

Oh shit, Paul realized. He had not looked at his personal PADD all day.

Quickly making his way to the entrance, he tried to grab the jacket he wore today from the coat rack. It wasn’t there. He turned around, remembering throwing the jacket on the couch, only to realize the buzzing was coming from his feet.

Paul grabbed the PADD from the case on the floor, almost instinctively answered the video call, before realizing he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Hastily, he grabbed the nearest shirt he could find, struggled while putting it on trying to simultaneously hold the PADD. He took a few steps to the couch and answered the call while flopping down on the couch.

Hugh’s face appeared on screen, his brows furrowed a bit, but his mouth turning into a faint smile at the sight of Paul.

“Hey,” Hugh greeted in a soft tone.

“Hi.”

“Where have you been?”

Paul had realized his mistake just moments before, and took a second to think of the answer, no matter how obvious it was.

“In the lab,” Paul answered sounding a little exhausted.

“Of course,” Hugh smiled. “Anything exiting?”

Paul sighed again, turning his gaze to look at the sunset taking its final breaths in the horizon.

“Not really. Another day spent with algorithms and experiments only to prove myself wrong.”

“Oh,” Hugh exhaled with an apologizing look. “That sucks.”

By now, Hugh knew better than to answer Paul’s disappointment with the previously tried encouraging facts, like “that’s part of the research. You’ll get there eventually.”

Instead, he had noticed, Paul took comfort in him just agreeing that sometimes his work was a pain in the ass.

Looking at the pale man on screen, direct sunlight hitting his face and hair, illuminating it even lighter and bouncing off his blue eyes with a beautiful glow, Hugh definitely agreed that right now, he would rather have Paul not so invested in his research. Maybe they could spend some time together, if it wasn’t for their distance and both of their demanding jobs.

Hugh sighed smiling, studying Paul’s white-appearing eyebrows, now furrowing a bit in a way that had become quite familiar to Hugh. Paul quickly turned back to face the screen.

“I don’t really want to think about it,” he huffs. “How was your day?”

“I missed you,” Hugh answers without hesitation.

Paul is taken aback by the honest statement. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you,” Paul murmurs, realizing there are at least a few notifications unread on his PADD from Hugh.

“I know. You were working.”

“Still. I could’ve at least messaged you,” Paul goes on to say, genuinely annoyed at himself for ignoring Hugh for a full day. He meant to keep his distance, but not this much.

“Yeah, you could’ve,” Hugh admits, flashing a grin that almost melts Paul.

Hugh is still in his white Starfleet uniform, although the jacket is open, revealing an undershirt with a far more giving neckline. Paul tries not to stare.

“But I had a busy day too,” Hugh continues. “I have time now.”

“Good,” Paul smiles, although he’s a tiny bit uncomfortable remembering that he isn’t wearing any pants.

“You’re home?” Paul asks an obvious question. He’s seen enough glimpses of Hugh’s quarters to recognize it.

“Well,” Hugh looks a little surprised. “I guess.”

Paul raises an eyebrow as in asking Hugh to elaborate.

“It still doesn’t feel very... homey.”

Hugh had lived in these quarters on this starbase for about six months now. He’d gotten used to it, and felt physically comfortable where he was, but he had never referenced to it as “home”. Maybe because he spent so much time on duty outside the starbase.

“I get that,” Paul answered. He in turn had lived in this apartment for almost 6 years. It was a place to sleep, eat and shower, above anything else. If there was a place he’d consider home, it would be the garden in the lab.

Both men startle slightly, as Paul’s PADD receives a message. Paul furrows his brows and purses his lips, opening the message. Hugh recognises the look from previous calls, often followed with an apologetic Paul having to head back to the lab.

Paul groans at the message in frustration. He places the PADD on the coffee table, disappearing from the screen.

“What is it?” Hugh asks while grabbing something off the screen himself. Might as well fill some reports if Paul must head back to work.

“Umm,” Paul huffs from outside the screen. “It’s Straal.” He reappears wearing grey collage pants and scuffing his damp blonde hair with a towel.

“Back to work?” Hugh asks with a tender smile.

“No... Well, not right now,” Paul answers, reading the message again. He scoffs. “He’s bailing on me for a conference next weekend.”

There’s an annoyed look on the man’s face, as he dismisses the message and leans back on the couch, defeated.

“Fucking Straal,” he hisses, just audibly for Hugh to hear. He chuckles to himself, trying to hide a smile.

“Where is it?” Hugh asks, apparently while writing some notes on another device in front of him.

“Betazed.” Ugh. That’s far.

“Really?” Hugh raises his brows and opens a new tap on his PADD with a swift touch. Betazed is closer than Deneva, that’s for sure.

“I’m so tired of having to act like an idiot at these things,” Paul starts ranting. Hugh nods, but is still flicking trough tabs on his device to look at something else.

“I don’t know anyone, or even if I did, I don’t care enough to remember them. Most people don’t actually care about the research and are there just for the show and... gossip,” Paul huffs. “Who goes to a science conference for gossip?”

Hugh glances at Paul and gives a small chuckle. He’s reminded of what often goes on during Starfleet Medical personnel seminars, after and in between the lectures...

“I know some people,” Hugh laughs. He’s dug up a file listing his work shifts, displayed in thick boxes of multiple colors for multiple sites and types of shifts. He scrolls down to next week.

“It’s obnoxious. Would be fine if it was just the presentations, but there’s always some afterparty you’re expected to attend if you’re to actually make connections and get sponsors. Escapes me how my social presence has anything to do with the research...” Paul rants on.

They’ve had this conversation before, a few weeks ago, when Paul was getting ready for another one of his trips across the galaxy to present his genius research to much less interested audiences. It was clear Paul wasn’t much of a people’s person. He was a convincing speaker, though. Hugh had been intrigued from the first moment he saw Paul give his presentation. Intense, captivating and so excited about his own work, it was hard not to be. Or so Hugh had thought. Apparently, he was in the minority.

“Why does Justin just get to inform me he’s not coming. I better be in a hospital if I were to skip one of these things."

Hugh looks at Paul on the screen, his face now more frustrated than annoyed.

“Please don’t hurt yourself for that,” Hugh kids. Although there’s a slight chance Paul actually might be that stupid, he admits.

Paul smiles back at him softly. A moment passes in silence, before Hugh continues.

“You know... I have vacation days saved up. I’ve always wanted to visit Betazed.”

________

GAHH. I have not written fanfiction in years..! Please be gentle, I know I also change the tense halfway trough, sorryyy. But also, this needs a name I guess?

Study Buddies (Sternclay)

I got several requests for this prompt as a meet ugly for Sternclay: you caught me doing something a few weeks ago but didn’t report me and now you’re trying to blackmail me into secretly tutoring you even though you and your friends have always been assholes, no I don’t ‘owe’ you.” Fill is SFW

“I saw that.”

Stern freezes, hand still on the now-shut back door, “saw me putting out the garbage?”

“Nope” his coworker Barclay rumbles, “saw you taking the leftover pastries and giving them to the homeless guys who hang out in that plaza.”

“A few of them were from that batch you baked three hours ago, they were barely old, going to waste was ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you know Haye’s rule about that.”

“Yes, and I think it’s ridiculous too.” He crosses his arms, staring up at Barclay and daring him to tell him it isn’t.

“I agree. But you still got caught.”

“By you, not by him, now move so I can start wiping down the tables.”

“What, uh, makes you think I’ll keep my mouth shut?”

Stern turns, startled, “are you trying to fucking blackmail me?”

“No, uh, I mean-” Barclay’s gaze darts to the front of the coffee shop, where his friends make several encouraging motions.

“Of course” he groans, “Christ, Barclay, I didn’t think you’d stoop this low.”

“Look” the larger man takes a step, bringing him into Stern’s space, “I have a massive midterm paper due in a few weeks, and I need help. Big time.”

From this distance Stern can smell laundry detergent and burnt sugar, see a pleading tint in those deep brown eyes. He wants to punch him in his aggravating, handsome face.

“You owe me, Stern.”

“Like hell I do.”

“I’ve covered your ass more times than I can count when you’ve run late because of your internship.”

“And I’ve covered your ass all those times you were late because you were giving your friends rides.” He jabs his finger into Barclay’s chest and his hand is instantly enclosed in one of Barclay’s own

“I don’t want to tell Hayes anything, Stern, but I really, really don’t want to fail this fucking class.”

“Fine. I’ll help with your essay.”

“Not just mine, my friends need help too.”

“Oh no, no chance, deals’ off.” Stern pulls his hand away, “I can tolerate you, but they” he points to the group still sitting at the table, “have been nothing but awful and rude to me”

“They’re not-”

“They are too that bad, at least to me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. It wouldn’t be those guys, it’d be some friends of mine from the LGBT center on campus.”

“Fine. But if one of those ones shows their face, I leave. Shake on it.”

Barclay talks his hand again, shakes it, and tells him to be at the LGBT center at 7 p.m tomorrow. 

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

Stern arrives at five til, finds Barclay sitting on a beanbag chair near a low table with four other people. One, a blonde girl in a green dress, pops up and walks over to him. 

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I’m here for him.” He points to Barclay.

“Oh! You’re the essay guy.”

“Yep, that’s me.” He smiles as politely as he can muster and joins her at the table. 

“Glad you came.” Barclay smiles at him.

“I didn’t have a choice.” He glares and the smile disappears.

“Everyone, this is Stern-”

“Joseph. Most people call me Joseph.”

“-and he’s gonna help with the midterm essay for our comp class.”

“Sweet!” The other girl at the table, black hair streaked with red, raises her hands triumphantly. 

“Do all five of you need help?” Stern looks around.

“Nope, just me, Duck” she points to a stocky guy in a Yosemite’ shirt, “and Barclay. Indrid and this cutie aren’t in that class.” She kisses the blonde’s cheek. That makes Indrid the guy with messily dyed silver hair and sketchbook, who’s currently laying with his head in Duck’s lap.

“Alright, that’s not too bad. Does someone have the assignment?”

Duck pulls it up on his laptop so Stern can read it. 

“Okay, so, it’s time to start outlining how you want to approach your topic.”

“Uhhhh.” Barclay looks at this friends, who shake their heads.

“None of you have a topic yet.”

“Nope.”

“When is this due?”

“Three weeks from yesterday.”

“And it’s worth how much?”

“45% of our final grade.”

Stern allows himself a few moments of vicarious stress, then gets to work. By the time the center closes, they all have topics selected, and Stern has instructions to come back on Monday.

He does just that, comes back Wednesday too. By Friday, he’s learned that he and Duck actually share a chem lecture and that Aubrey has many classes in the same building he does, as she always waves to him when they cross paths. On Friday night, he arrives to help them flesh out their outlines. 

“Colors?” Aubrey says as she braids pieces of twine while studying her notes for her midterm. 

“What?”

“Your pride colors; I’m making bracelets for everyone because it helps me focus.”

“Oh, um, trans pride ones. Please.”

“Good, already got those out.” She slides a pink, blue, and white bracelet across the table to Duck.

Barclay arrives with cookies, and they settle into their usual working rhythm, Stern bouncing between the three to see what they have and offering editorial advice. He’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with Barclay, enjoying the contact more than he cares to admit. 

“This is a little clunky here, I think I see your point but it’s getting lost.”

Barclay taps the table, then deletes and re-writes the section. 

“That’s way better.”

“What can I say, got a good teacher.” Barclay smiles at him, subdued yet charming, and Stern’s heart flips several times before he whacks it into submission. 

A week later, he turns up at the center to find the room rearranged and a larger group present. There’s a screen hung up on the far wall and Dani is tinkering with a laptop and projector. 

“I think I missed a memo.” He says to Duck as the other man is pouring two cups of soda. 

“Yeah, we decided to have a movie night and watch Dracula’s Daughter because Aubrey insists it’s a gay classic.”

“It’s quite good. I’ll, um, I’ll just head out then.”

“Y’know you can stay right? You ain’t just essay help, you’re our friend.” Duck gives him a look stuck between reassurance and concern.

“I guess I can, since I have tonight blocked off.” He goes in search of a seat and finds the only free spot is, of course, directly next to Barclay. 

Dani dims the lights and the move starts. There’s a rustle near his lap.

“Popcorn?” Barclay whispers. 

“Sure, thanks.”

As the movie plays on, their hands keep going for popcorn at the same instant and bumping each other. A few weeks ago this would have annoyed him to no end. Now he just wants to hold his hand. Barclay is different around these friends; gentler, funnier, his generosity given plentiful outlets. He’s been different at work too, less inclined to needle Stern and more interested in talking with him as they clean than in enabling his friends to stay late and make a mess. Stern’s noticed said friends do their fair share of shit-talking Barclay, the larger man seemingly so used to it he doesn’t react. But more and more Stern sees the flashes of exhaustion and hurt on his face. 

“You're not their servant, Barclay.”

“I know, I’m just being helpful.”

“That was half your cut of the tips they scammed off you.”

“It’s fine, Stern.”

“But”

“It’s fine.”

The group opts to watch Frankenstein meets the Wolfman next, and Barclay adjusts so his hand is flat on the ground on the other side of Stern. Stern leans to the side, resting against him, and lets himself pretend he could feel this safe and wanted all the time. 

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

“Stern, wait up!” Barclay catches up to him as he walks home. It’s Wednesday night, meaning everyone’s essays are finally finished. When Aubrey asked if Stern was going to keep hanging out with them, he said he’d have to see about his schedule, and ignored the fact she knew he was lying. 

“What was that line about your schedule? You could still make time to hang out with us.”

“I’ll come back when you all need help on your finals.”

“....do you seriously think that’s all we care about? All I care about? Stern, they really like you, and it seemed like you were getting along with everyone.”

“I was, and I do like them. But I can’t keep being around you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Barclay steps in front of him, barring his path. 

“It means that I like you too, but am well aware of how you really feel about me. You act kind, you talk to me like I actually matter, like we’re actually friends, but deep down I know you still think I’m uptight and nerdy and deserve to be mocked for it.”

“I don’t, I swear” Barclay puts his hands on Stern’s shoulders, voice earnest, “I like you a lot, I’m so fucking glad we started hanging out more, I, I really care about you.”

“Care about me? How the fuck am I supposed to believe that when you still won’t even call me by my name!” He hisses, not wanting to wake the nearby apartments. 

“I...I was just using it like a nickname. I didn’t know it bothered you. I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely chagrined and the fire in Stern’s chest flickers out. He stares at the ground, not knowing what else to do.

“Joseph?”

He looks up in time to see Barclay bend forward, bringing their lips millimeters apart.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Do you” he exhales so intensely a nearby moth gets blown off course, “do you really want to?”

“Haven’t been able to think about anything else all night, babe. All week too.”

Stern closes the distance, Barclay’s hands gripping his arms when he does. The kiss is the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted and he lifts his hands up to Barclays cheeks, stroking them in a plea for more. 

Barclay obliges, slides his hands onto his back and pushes him forward, sighing soft and shaky when the kiss deepens. When it ends Stern stays put, rests his head on Barclay’s shoulder as he hugs him, shuddering with want.

“I gotcha babe, don’t worry.” Barclay pets his fingers through Sterns hair.

“Not worried your friends will see us?”

“Fuck ‘em. They were guys I knew in high school who knew how to manipulate me and I can do better. Like you, for starters. Plus Dani thinks their dicks too.”

“Knew there was a reason I liked her.”

“Now, if those friends saw us, we’d know because we’d hear Aubrey yelling ‘called it’ from a mile away.”

“Not that I’m opposed to sidewalk hugging, but it’s getting kind of cold.”

“C’mon” Barclay kisses his forehead, “let’s get you home.”

“Feel like joining me for some ‘coffee?’” Stern makes air quotes as Barclay takes his hand.

“Hell yeah I do. Can think of a lot of places I’d like to put cream.” 

“Not just yet, big guy, though I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Stern pauses his walking to kiss him, “tonight I think you and I have a make-out date on my couch.”

Another kiss, full of promise and the barest hint of heat, “sounds good to me, Joseph.”

Three Heroes: Various!BNHA x Reader (Part 1)

This is a Todoroki x Bakugo x Reader x Midoriya fanfic, inspired by the My Hero Academia movie Two Heroes, the storyline will be adjusted due to the readers presence. The reader is All Might's Daughter. Read on and I hope you enjoy!

Warning(s): Blood, Violence, fluff, poly!relationship, swearing, etc.

---

"Hey, Shouto?" You began as you stepped off the private jet, your boyfriend, Shouto Todoroki, assisting you down the steps with your hand in his. His head tilts as if to say he was listening as you step down from the steps of the jet, "What do you think we should do first? The expo hasn't begun, yet, so since you've been here before what do you wanna do first?" You smiled at him, excited to look around the moving city. Standing in your hero costune, you adjusted your sleeve, giving him a close eyed grin.

Shouto looked at you, thoughtfully, before he felt his face heat up, almost embarrassed. "I-I'm not sure..." he answered truthfully, your smile fades slightly, but it comes back sympathetically. Recalling him telling you how odd it was for someone to ask what he wanted for a change, it was still new to him.

You grabbed his hand anyway, giggling cutely. "Well, I guess we've just gotta go everywhere! Don't worry, remember, we're here to have fun. For once, we don't have to worry about anything else." You pulled him towards the exit as other planes came to the loading dock and people slowly began piling into the city. Shouto looks at you as he jogs beside you, his lips twitching up into a smile as you happily laughed beside him, your eye's sparkling as you witnessed the beauty of the city.

"A-actually..." he pauses as he stutters and you look over at him, he feels his face burning once more. It's still so weird, you make him feel all of these emotions and he's still learning how to deal with them. Especially since you encourage him, everyday, to express himself to the fullest when he's been taught all his life to do anything but that. He directs his gaze to the city, "I think I know somewhere you might like..." he suggests, remembering a place he had visited once before, fondly.

Your eye's widen at him before you laugh ecstatically, jumping up to float for a few seconds before landing and clapping your hands together. "Really? I wonder what it is, you're so thoughtful, I'm so happy you would think of me!" You pumped your fist in the air, "Come on, let's go!"

Shouto nodded, leading you to the identification inspection, you both passed through, seeing your pictures on the floating screens beside you both. With your luggage already being sent to the hotel by Endeavor's own assistants you and Shouto had all the time you needed to tour the city until the expo preview. You would have to be there for the formal party at the end of the day, your father being the Number one hero also had to be present.

That's right, you were (Y/n) Yagi, Daughter of All Might, the world's number one hero. You went to U.A. High School, the top hero school in Japan, and the hardest hero course to ever get into. You were proud to be part of your hero academia, you've met so many friends and you knew if it weren't for being a student there you wouldn't have met the boys who stole your heart.

You took Shouto's arm, pressing up against him, "So, where'd you wanna take me?" You asked him.

You both walked straight through the walkway, watching the projections that flickered across the sky and the tall buildings that towered over the area. People looked over at the both of you, noting your hero gear, Shouto could see the boys about his age staring at you alittle too long. You felt shouto pull away from you, slipping from your grip, you pouted before blushing heavily as he instead slipped his arm around your waist. Glaring at the boys as he passed them, he held his head higher as he smirked internally as they turned away, realizing you were taken.

"I was thinking, you'd like to see the hero support tech. They always have new items they feature every month, I remember you told me you were experimenting with designs for your thrusters. Maybe they could give you new ideas for--" he was cut off as you gave him a quick peck on the lips, he paused unable to finish as he stared at you, almost bewitched for the endless time today.

You laughed. "I'm so glad you think of me so often. You're usually not talking so much, I want you to do it much more often! And, oh...sorry, I didn't let you finish." You rubbed the back of your neck, chuckling nervously before he took your jaw in one hand. He tips your head up before kissing you lightly, you smile into it, before he pulls away and smiles, offering his hand once more.

"Let's head over there before it gets too crowded," he says, his heart warming as you blush and grin up at him, nodding happily.

"Right!"

●

An explosion cuts off the small lecture that a pro hero was giving after showing off her newest tech support, a metal chest plate, flexible alloy that could stretch and take an extensive amount of damage.

You and Shouto both turn towards the explosion, curious of the smoke rising from the area, you recall passing by an arena that a few people had challenged to overcome a few robotic, villain simulators. You link eyes with Shouto's before you both decide to head off in that direction, "Hey, do you think Katsuki and Izuku have arrived yet?" You wondered aloud, placing a finger on your chin, your head tilting up, curiously.

Shouto raised a brow. "Midoriya's here?"

Your eye's widened, remembering that you hadn't told him. "Oh yeah, Dad's taking Izuku as his guest. He was invited and had a plus one, just like you." That's right, you had wanted Izuku to come to the Expo, especially since he's always wanted to come to the floating city. You had taken Shouto's offer to travel since he was going alone and he had invited you beforehand anyway, you recalled Bakugo throwing a fit after you told him. "I guess since he and katsuki left earlier, they're already here." You said.

Shouto nodded before you both found yourself in front of the arena, the smoke around the area decreasing slowly. It wasn't someone you recognized, you almost hoped it would've been Katsuki, but you knew he'd show up sooner or later.

"Do you wanna try?" You asked him, turning towards Shouto.

He looked at you, alittle surprised, arm's crossed. "Hm...I wouldn't want to leave you here alone."

You grinned at him, "I'll be fine, don't worry. I'll be up here cheering you on, like in the sports festival!" You beamed. His gaze softened as you said that, remembering hearing your voice over the thundering crowds, encouraging him to keep going. "Besides, I won't be far behind you, I'll try out too!"

He nodded, smiling faintly. "Ok. I guess I'll go after this one...huh?"

You followed his confused gaze onto the arena as you saw a familiar red head, a smile quickly blooming on your face, "Kirishima!"

●

Izuku groaned, laying his head on his arm, slumped against the chair as he sat at the cafe table, relieved as the girls of his class didn't both to ask him any questions as to why he was here. Melissa, who was nice enough to show him around, distracted them with questions and answers.

He wondered what you were doing now, you had given up going with your father to the Expo, just for him. He couldn't believe he was here, having seen so many amazing sights and met the famous David Shield. He couldn't thank you enough, he had felt so guilty when you told him that you'd given him your ticket of invitation, calling the expo and everything to inform them of the change. He felt tears coming to his eye's, raising a fist in admiration for his love, he was so blessed to have you.

A glass was placed in front of him, suddenly, a small item, shaped in the yellow silhouette of All might's head floating in the colorful liquid. "Thanks for waiting!"

That voice! Izuku thought as he sat up, before his eye's widened in surprise.

The golden hair of his friend and the dark lightning stripe of hair stood out to the green haired student, "Kaminari!" Holding a serving platter to his chest, Kaminari grinned widely at his peer.

"Is that...Mineta?" He heard Ochaco gasp.

"What are you two doing here?" Jirou wondered aloud.

"Well, they needed extra staff for the expo and we applied to work, right?" Kaminari answered.

Mineta smirked, his hands on his hips. "We get to explore the Expo on our breaks, and we make the money!" He said victorious. Then, he made eye contact with the girls of his class, "Plus, we get to make passionate encounters with some of the cute--oh my god, I think I'm in love!" Mineta gasped out as he finished, his eyes landing on Melissa, who stared in confusion.

Izuku tensed up as Mineta and Kaminari immediately crushed him together, urging him to cough up any details about the American girl he was currently associated with. "Hey, midoriya, who's the high voltage hotty over there?" Kaminari creepily whispered.

"Come on! Give us details! It's bad enough that you've stolen (y/n) from us! Especially since she's here and she didn't even let me catch catch a feel in that sexy outfit of hers!" Mineta drooled at the thought.

"I thought you were working! This is what you do? You're supposed to be working hard!" Iida sprints over, lecturing the two perverted young peers.

Izuku glared at the grape head before his eye's widened as he listened to him carefully, "Wait a minute! Did you say (y/n) was here?" He immediately stood from his seat, ready to bolt to meet up with you, he couldn't wait to see you.

Mineta was still drooling, his hands groping the air as if he was imagining it was you, making Izuku twitch in irritation. Kaminari answers instead, "Oh, yeah, her and Shouto passed by almost an hour ago. They're heading over--" there was an explosion before he could finish. Everyone turns to the noise in shock.

"What was that?!"

After running over to the arena, he sees two large screens over a rocky mountain, smoke rising and debris having fallen to the ground. He recognized this as a villains course, his eyes widening as he recognized the person on the screen. "A stunning 33 seconds!" The announcer exclaimed, exuberantly.

"Kirishima?" Izuku questioned, surprised to see another peer.

"I'm guessing he's from UA as well?" Melissa questioned.

"Yeah, he's in the same class as us!" He answered.

Soon, the announcer spoke once more as Kirishima climbed down the mountain, "Please welcome our next challenger!" She announced.

Izuku immediately paled as he noticed the ashy blonde walking up to the attack course, "K-kacchan?!"

Bakugo gets ready, squatting down as his palms light up and the announcer raises her voice, "Ready...go!" Katsuki is blasting off the ground before anyone can register, his quirk immediately exploding off his fingers and targeting every robot in the vicinity, blasting him upwards to meet another simulated villain.

"Die!" He commands as he let's off another explosion.

Finishing off the last bot, he lands perfect in a squat, smirking in victory as he straightens to hear the results. "Amazing! Our first place winner with 15 seconds!" She hasn't even turned around yet when he starts walking off towards the audience stands.

"Hey! Isn't that Midoriya?" Izuku pales as Kirishima calls him out, eliciting Bakugo's attention.

Izuku chuckles nervously before he screams in shock as Bakugo blasts himself upwards, grabbing onto the metal railing stopping him from barreling straight into the boy. "Dammit! What're you doing here?!" Obviously pissed to see him.

"K-kacchan!"

Afterwards, after kirishima brings up trying out the course, Bakugo angrily allows Izuku to try a pathetic attempt to beat his high score. Gulping, Izuku passes him by, as the boy grits his teeth, holding himself back from strangling the boy. That's at least before he remembers something before Izuku can jump over the railing, "Oi! Deku!"

Tensing up, he turns around, "Y-yes?"

He frown's at him before calming slightly. "Where's (y/n)? I heard she went with icy hot, I guess she gave you her invite, typical." He grunts bitterly, angrily. Izuku could see the mention of you brightened his mood noticeably, despite his bitter attitude of seeing him at the Expo, of all places.

"I-i haven't seen her. Kaminari told me that he saw her pass by around here, I came over looking for her. I thought she might be with you."

Bakugo huffed, looking away from him. "Fuck...still with that bastard." He internally groaned, eager for your attention.

Seeing that he was finished talking to him, Izuku went down to the course to start. He waited for the announcers words before bursting into the air, similar to Bakugo, he took the robots on with no problem, limiting his power usage to prevent any damage to his limbs. Finishing with a surprising, 16 seconds, he happily smiled as he heard his score. Going up to his friends, Iida and Ochaco praised him immediately, "wow!" She praised him, as Iida told him of his great performance.

Bakugo grumbled, roaring angrily. "Shut up! I'll blast your score to ash!"

Suddenly, there's a rush of cold and the sound of ice spreading, quickly before the announcer is squealing at the rush of power. "Ah! This is insane! 14 seconds!"

Everyone went over to the railing again, surprised to see that half the mountain was encased in ice and Todoroki was at the bottom, straightening from using his quirk to destroy the bots with ease. "Hey, Todoroki!" Izuku grinned at the sight of his friend, before he began looking around, knowing you couldn't be far behind.

However, from behind everyone, Bakugo blasts into the air, angrily soaring towards Todoroki, who stares at the boy blankly. "Outta the way, icy hot bastard!" He yells before landing in front of the dual quirk boy.

"Bakugo." He says simply.

"You can't just appear outta no where and try to show me up!"

"And I see the others are here too," he looks at the stands, nodding as he makes eye contact with Izuku.

"Don't you ignore me! What're you doing in the island anyway!" Bakugo growls.

"My father was invited. I'm here in his place," he states, calmly.

The announcer waves a hand towards Bakugo, "Um, the next person is waiting," she says before squeaking in fright as Bakugo blows up at her.

"Shut up! I'm going next!" Bakugo turns and yells.

"Aw, and here I was thinking I'd get a shot..." Your voice instantly reaches the explosive boy, turning towards you he relaxes almost instantly as he sees you walking over to him, smiling happily. "Katsu, I'm glad to see you," you say, stopping in front of him.

Katsuki can hardly get the words out of his mouth for a moment, you had always been the only person who could leave him speechless, without even trying. That costume wasn't helping either. "(Y/n)...hey," he breathes, his normally stiff shoulders now limp and his back straightening as he fully turns to you. He realizes his unorthodox attitude before leaning forwards quickly to bump foreheads with you gently, "This bastard didn't bore you to death, did he?"

Shouto glares at the blonde, "Bakugo--" you place a hand on his chest, stopping him.

"Shouto was actually great company. We watched my favorite movie on the plane. He even gave me a tour, when we landed, I never knew this place was so big! It was so much fun!" You boasted, making Shouto's heart swell with pride while Bakugo was secretly hoping for a different answer as he huffed.

"(Y/n)!"

You looked away from Bakugo, both boys turning to see Izuku running towards you, happily, bounding with each step in excitement.

An immediate look of pure joy overcomes your features and your blasting forwards, purple energy bursting from your feet and leaving a dust cloud in its wake, you're ramming into him before he reaches you. However, after so many hugs like this before, Izuku is ready and catches you perfectly, laughing along with you as he spins on his heel with you in his arms. "Zuku!" You squeal, grinning widely as pepper his face with kisses.

As Izuku finally puts you down, you were surprised to see him on his knees almost instantly, burying his head into your stomach, his hands wrapped around your legs. "Thank you so much for bringing me!" He cries, his eyes welled with tears as he looked up at you, a watery smile on his face. "I'm so blessed!"

You grinned down at him, leaning down, your loose hair draping forward around you, "I knew you'd like to come and I wouldn't want you to miss it. Besides this trip wouldn't be complete with out you, babe," you giggled as he blushed at the nickname, although he should be used to it. You pressed your lips against his forehead and pulled away as he stood stood to his feet, standing taller than you.

"Well, I really appreciate it. So, I, uh, I wanted to give you this!" He pulls out a small box from his suits pocket, he hands it to you, blushing heavily but giving you a wide grin. "I hope you like it!"

You smile softly before opening it, you're eyes widening before softening as you take the brooch in your hand, it was big enough to fit in your palm. It was a ruby brooch, it was beautiful and you knew that Izuku bought it from his heart, you were moved that he'd get something so heartfelt for you, knowing you loved the color. You leaned towards him, "Thank you, Zuku. You're wonderful," you whispered before giving him a kiss in the middle of the field.

He melts into the kiss, his knees almost buckling before you pull away, giggling as you clutch the brooch lovingly.

"Uh...um, hey, so is anyone going next?" The announcer wonders aloud, questioning the four of you. You nearly forgot you were in the middle of the arena, reuniting with your boyfriends definetly took your attention away.

You stepped forwards, "Oh, yeah, I guess I am!"

The announcer sighed in relief before giving you you a thumbs up, "Alright, the villains attack course has reset!" You walked up to the starting target, where the announcer stood a few meters ahead of you.

You turned to the boys with a close eyed smile, "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!" Izuku. "You got this." Shouto. "Just don't go hurtin' yourself, would you?" Of course, Katsuki.

You giggled before turning to the announcer and crouching down, urging your power to spread. You felt the energy running through your suits chest orb before it split to run through your arm's and down to your legs. Light purple energy slowly becoming apparent around your body, a rope of gold energy swelling out of your skin. "Ready..." you felt time slow, letting out a breath as you felt your skin heat up, before you felt a smirk blossom on your face as your eye's narrowed and changed color. A ring of purple energy swirling in your orbs. "Go!"

She didn't even see you move, the announcer only felt felt a burst of energy run through her and right out before the air pressure blows her back. You're soaring above her before she can utter a word, your booted heel making contact with the first bot before you burst upwards causing it to shatter from the thrust. The force causes you to flip in mid-air and you bring your charged fist forwards, a ball of energy apparent around your fist. It hits the second bot as you release it and you turn quickly, bringing both hands up to take the third bots metal face in your hands and blowing it back. The impact causes it to make contact with the fourth, both exploding on impact.

"Wow..." Ochaco mutters as she watches you from the stands, before glancing down at the three boys standing at the side of the arena. They all watched in pride, even Bakugo, although although he was more reluctant to show it.

"(Y/n)'s doing great!" Jirou smiled, praising her friend.

"So amazing! She's learned so much from her internship, I bet!" Momo gasped, grinning at her friend.

You landed in a crouch, straightening with a smile, "That was fun!"

"Wow! Our new challenger just scored our highest: 12 seconds!"

You laughed, clapping happily, "Yay!"

"(Y/n)'s so amazing..." Ochaco exclaimed in awe.

Viridian Love Story - Chapter 2: I never asked for a rose (new fanfiction update)

Dear friends, I finally completed the second chapter of “Viridian Love Story”. Enjoy! Like, share, reblog and feel free to leave a review. Thanks to all my supportive readers. @jessicarocket @rocketshippingassbutt @masterstarpikachu @estrelarabyss @teamrocketshipping @teamrocketfanart @ndbernarts @thelovelyjessie @webelieveinlovepower @cat-0301 @chaosandhope @james-team-rocket @danadiversity @krazy-holly @keksrocket @tothestarsabove and everyone who keeps encouraging me to write down my thoughts and headcanons ;) Chapter 2: I never asked for a rose Misty looked up. He could read the uncertainty in her gaze. „Ash, is it you?“ she asked suspiciously, cleaving her way through the school desks. He nodded, a smile scurrying over his face. „Ash!“ Misty hastened her step, her heart beating faster. She fell happily around his neck. „It’s been so long,“ Ash wrapped an arm around her waist, carefully caressing her fiery red mane. Pikachu jumped on her shoulder, squeaking with joy. Ash held her tight, recollecting all the wonderful memories he owed her. „I missed you,“ she whispered so close to his ear, giving him goosebumps. He didn’t want to let go of her. Misty was alive and well, all his worries faded. There had been times when he couldn’t sleep at night, the uncertainty about his best friend’s whereabouts keeping him wide awake. „Where have you been?“ he asked her, loosening the embrace. She stared into his eyes, a wave of sadness overcoming her. She let go of him, taking a step back as if she tried to go a safe distance. „Ash, there’s something I need to tell you,“ she wanted to shape a long overdue statement. „I was worried sick,“ he didn’t want it to sound so reproachful, but his feelings overpowered him. „I know and I’m really sorry that I have broken off any contact. Believe me, it was anything but easy for me“, she replied agitatedly. „When the three of us said goodbye after a long adventurous journey, I turned home and...“ Misty couldn’t finish her sentence, from the corner of her eye she noticed someone observing them. „Ash!“ Serena, a grim and skeptical expression on her face, approached the two of them. The distance between Ash and Misty increased by one more piece. „Who’s that girl?“ Serena pointed at Misty, feeling a whiff of jealousy. Ash shielded his best friend. „Serena, this is Misty. We were inseparable. She and Brock joined me on my very first journey to become a Pokémon master. Misty, this is my girlfriend Serena, an aspiring showcase performer“, Ash tried to calm the waves, Serena was obviously out of sorts with Misty. Reluctantly, the two shook hands. Serena wrapped an arm around Ash in order to mark her territory. A kiss sealed their relationship, putting Misty in her place. Ash noticed Misty’s disappointment. She made herself smile, but her gaze spoke volumes. For the first time in his life, Ash felt a pulling in his chest at the sight of her. She was all grown up, beautiful, but something afflicted her and he wanted to find out what caused her so much distress. „Ehm,“ he searched desperatley for words. „Serena, I’ll see you later, okay?“ he playfully nudged her nose. „For all I care,“ she looked at them distrustfully and disappeared from the classroom without saying another word. Misty cocked an eyebrow. „Wow, nice choice, Ash! I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. I think there’s a lot to talk about,“ she winked at him, briefly squeezing his hand. More and more students entered the classroom, Ash and Misty also took a seat and welcomed their new teacher. Meanwhile, Team Rocket worked on an ingenious plan to infiltrate the university. „That’s impossible, Meowth!“ James vent his discomfort. „We’re no trained teachers, we’re going to embarrass us in front of the class.“ Jessie rolled her eyes at Meowth’s idea to fool the whole school. „Listen to me, you two dimwits! No need to worry. A seminar on poison type Pokémon is the best opportunity to creep in, looking for casual robberies and keep Giovanni up to date. All you have to do is standing in front of the class and talk about Arbok and Weezing. That shouldn’t be so hard, even two dorks like you should be able to entertain some freshmen for 45 minutes. Leave the rest to me,“ Meowth’s brain was working at full blast. „But what if they’re going to ask questions? Should we just stand there like two clueless question marks, counting the second until we’re saved by the bell?“ Jessie discovered more and more weak spots in this plan. Meowth rummaged around a bag. „Here“, he presented his team members with two tiny microphones. „I’ll whisper the answers in your ears“, proud of himself, he waited for appreciative praise. „No way! Déjà vu, Meowth. The last time you tried to help us out with answers, we made complete fools of ourselves. Even the smalles children laughed at us,“ Meowth flashed his eyes at James. The cat Pokémon was annoyed by their suspicion. „Times are changing, lavender lock! In a time of digital progress, I’ve adapted our equipment. Now, we’re online. It’s very easy: the kids ask you guys a question that will be transmitted directly to my headphones and I’m able to look up the answer in my huge database within a split second!“ Jessie and James were both wide-eyed. „So, you think it could actually work out?“ Jessie wondered. „We will possibly be successful?“ James added. „Trust me,“ Meowth grinned mischieviously. „All you have to do is to evaluate the position. Listen to the freshmen’s chats, find out if there is going to be a major event, an event where all Pokémon come together. Everything clear so far?“ His friends nodded approvingly. Their bags already packed, Jessie and James headed towards university. „Oh and before I forget, folks,“ an impish smile crossed Meowth’s face, „don’t get distracted by too many flirtations, haha“. Jessie blushed to the roots of her hair. Did Meowth smell the rat? After the first lesson, Misty and Ash decided to spend lunch time underneath an imposing oak in the middle of the university campus. It was good to spend some time in the shadows of the large branches above their heads, for the summer heat was unbearable. Only a few moments later, Brock joined his old friends, providing them with homemade rice balls. Misty felt completely contented. The food, the atmosphere and the company of the two boys reminded her of the good old times, when she was carefree and with a clear goal in mind. „I’m glad you’re back, Misty,“ Brock hugged her tight. They shared ideas and plans, compared their time tables and discovered that they would work together on multiple projects this year. Still, Ash had the feeling that something was bothering the once so though girl. He turned around, facing her directly. „Tell me, Misty. Where have you been all these years? What happened?“ he didn’t want to crowd her, but he missed her reckless attitude. This intimidated young lady was not the Misty he once knew. Misty sighed out loud. Ash noticed how uncomfortable she felt. Brock laid a hand on her shoulder. „It’s okay, we’re here to listen,“ he encouraged her to come out with the truth. „Well,“ it cost her a lot of effort, „at the time I turned home, I was eager to tell my parents and sisters all about my adventures, the fights, the friends I made and about my dream to become an expert for water type Pokémon, but as I entered our house, there was no one there. They had left. To this day, I don’t know where they are, why they abandoned me and why they didn’t even leave a message. I was all alone, left all to my own devices. I tried to search them out, I contacted Officer Jenny, they launched a giant search operation, but it did not yield. Neither the neighbours, nor the people in the nearby village who knew them very well, could help me out. Officer Jenny was then forced to turn to the Youth Welfare Office and they put me in an orphanage not far from home. It was terrible. At the age of sixteen, I bunked out of the orphanage, I made it through with odd jobs and lived hand to mouth. You can’t trust anyone these days, I made shady acquaintances, got into trouble until I decided to pull myself together and sign up for evening classes to catch up on my graduation. Luckily, my grades were excellent and I passed every single test with flying colors and now, I’m here“, a crooked grin graced her face. Ash and Brock’s jaws dropped. They’d have expected anything, an unfortunate romance, a change of residence, an exchange year, but this story hit them hard. What horrors did she suffer? How could she possibly survive all on her own with no helping hand and no friends? „Misty,“ Ash’s eyes shone dangerously. „I’m so sorry to hear that. Come here,“ he embraced her in his arms, pulled her tight and placed a kiss on her forehead. „Don’t you worry anymore. We’re here to support you, you’re not alone.“ He could hear her sob into his shirt, finally releasing her pent-up emotions. She pressed him even tighter. He had always been her safe haven. It broke Brock’s heart to see his friends so distraught and upset. Pulling an arm around each one of them, he asked them to make a pledge. „From this day on, we’ll avouch for each other, no matter what. We will care and support each other like we used to do when we were kids. We’ll stick together, through thick and thin and we’ll never let go of each other again. We used to fight for our rights, we used to stand up for our Pokémon and friends and Ash and I will do everything in our power to make you forget about your gruesome past.“ Ash nodded. „I second every single word!“ He wiped a tear from her cheek. That was strange, he wanted to hold her and protect her from the world. He wanted to erase the dire memories. Jessie was nervous. Not only because she wasn’t used to give lectures on various school subjects, but because James seemed to evade her. He was wearing a white chemise, a necktie and matching trousers. He looked absolutely breathtaking and she couldn’t deny that some naughty thoughts had crossed her mind. „You look good,“ she adjusted his tie. He smiled shyly, avoiding any eye contact. Jessie brushed his arm while reaching for her notes. A bunch of books piled up on the desk and Meowth had already sent them their teaching materials. The students entered the class room, were loud and noisy and Jessie became more and more queasy with every moment. They tried to snatch up fragments of conversations and found out that prom night would take place in a couple of weeks. There was enough time for preparations like fiddling with traps, inviting the Rocket grunts and explore the best locations to catch them all. „James,“ she whispered shortly before the lesson started. „What if we volunteer to organise prom night? It would be the perfect occasion to capture some Pokémon and deliver them to our boss,“ she suggested. „Absolutely, great idea, Jess!“ he winked at her. Jessie never had the chance to attend prom night, but maybe fate would give her a second chance. In her fantasy, she was dancing with James, spending the night underneath an illuminated pavilion, just like newly enamored teenagers. „Put those thoughts out of your mind, Jess! He’s not interested in you. It was a one-time slip!“ she scolded herself. James distributed the work orders and was astonishingly good with the students. He responded to their questions and concerns, dealt with the class clown, promised them exciting lessons and easy exams and had soon made himself a darling who reaped languishing glances from the young girls. He was what Jessie called a crush-teacher. He was handsome, good-looking and charming. The female students would lie at his feet. She was overcome by a slight wave of jealousy. The 45 minutes flew by and both had made a great first impression, even if Jessie had already reproved two ruffians, threatening to chop off their fingers if they would ever again pointing the loser hand gesture at James. After the class had left the room, Jessie let herself sink onto the desk. She was completely exhausted, it was more tiring than expected. James stood in front of her, gathering some paper shreds and pencils. Jessie wrapped her arms around his neck. „I’m so tired. Meowth got us into a pretty mess“, she rested her head on his chest. James recoiled, laughing mousy. „It was a good start, don’t you think?“ He turned around, staring into two demanding eyes. „What’s wrong, Jess?“ he asked her. „James, why are you constantly avoiding me? Did you forget about that night? About your words and kisses? About this special moment between us? Didn’t it mean anything to you? Were you just too drunk to think clearly? Was ist just a joke? Look, I never asked for something, but let’s get things straight“ she wanted answers. James sighed deeply. „No, Jess, I didn’t forget about that night. It was one of the most amazing experiences in my life“, he looked at the floor with embarrassment. She stood up walking towards him. „Then why are you acting so strange? Why are you fending off every single pass?“ He didn’t dare to look at her. „Because I don’t want to fall in love with you.“ To be continued...

from the sea - chapter four

Summary: When Emma becomes sheriff, the pressure of running a department with a dwindling budget becomes nothing but an exercise in frustration. That is, until she finds an unlikely ally in the town treasurer, a man who her kid Henry is convinced is not an ally at all, but rather a villainous enemy. Season 1 AU, Cursed!Killian.

Rating and Warnings: Teen.

Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3

Read on AO3

After getting her budget restored, life descends into a pleasant lull for Emma. Regina is as cross and difficult as ever, her eyes narrowed and suspicious anytime she so much as sees Emma, but for the most part, life is quiet. The sheriff’s department has its usual calls of disturbances and petty crimes but nothing major happens. For the first time in a long time, Emma starts to feel like things are calm and settled – and she likes it.

On a rainy Thursday morning, Emma is seated with Henry at Granny’s for breakfast, killing time with him before he heads off to school. Henry is quiet this morning, frowning over his uneaten pancakes, and only half-listening to her questions about his day ahead.

After another attempt at drawing him out of his shell fails, with the feelings of inadequacy circling her again, Emma says hesitantly, “Are you okay, Henry? You’ve hardly touched your breakfast.”

He shrugs. “I have another meeting with Archie after school. And I like talking to Archie, I just …  I wish he wouldn’t try to tell me that it’s not all true …” Henry trails off, and then sighs, shaking his shoulders as if shaking off a chill. “Never mind. What are you doing today, Emma?”

Emma swirls the spoon in her coffee, her stomach clenching uncomfortably. Henry hasn’t been talking about his book for the last couple of days, ever since she told him that Wes Newport helped her out with Regina. That he helped her out had apparently thrown Henry into a tailspin, as it was a contradiction to his firmly held beliefs about the man and his relationship with his mother. Emma was hoping he would let the book go, or at least start to accept that it is just a story … and yet, here they are.

“Depends on who calls me,” she says, deciding on answering his question instead. “I have a town meeting this afternoon, but nothing else definitive –”

Henry instantly perks up from his pancakes, the most energetic she’s seen him that morning, and he asks eagerly, “Will Mr. Newport be there?”

Emma takes a long sip of her coffee before answering, and she tries to play it cool when she does, hoping he can’t hear the disappointment in her voice because she knows exactly what he is thinking and where he’s going with this.

“Yeah, I’m sure he will. Why?”

Henry smiles knowingly. “He helped you with your budget, right? That’s pretty unusual for him to go against my mom like that. I wonder if he’ll do anything more today.”

Emma sighs; here she is again – not wanting to encourage these beliefs in him, but not wanting to shut him down either.

“Henry –”

“Time to go, Henry!” Granny’s voice from across the diner interrupts her, and Emma swallows down the rest of her words, torn between relief and annoyance. She waves goodbye to Henry as he departs, and after paying, leaves Granny’s herself for work.  

It’s a calm day, and she spends most of her filling out some reports, her mind wandering back to Henry throughout the day. It’s disheartening to think that this storybook is consuming so much of his life, and even worse – Emma doesn’t know what to do about it. Technically, she’s not his mother, not anymore, and therefore this isn’t any of her business. But she can’t help it that this kid has wormed her way into his life now and she’s worried about him.

Later in the afternoon, about half hour before the meeting with the town officials is due to start, a call finally comes in, and Emma pulls herself away from her swirling thoughts to go see what’s going on. At an intersection on Main Street, Mr. Clark, the owner of the Dark Star Pharmacy, and one of the managers of the hardware store on Main Street had crashed their cars into each other. The day has been rainy and cloudy from the get-go, and the near zero visibility from the pouring rainstorm is the most likely culprit for the cause.

Nevertheless, Emma hurries over to the scene in case it is something serious and someone is hurt. But it’s a simple fender-bender and thankfully neither man is hurt. By the time Billy and his tow truck have hauled away the vehicles to his repair shop down the road, it’s nearly 4 pm. The town meeting was set to begin at 3:30, and though she’s already late, Emma is determined to make an appearance; the last thing she needs to do is give Regina anymore fodder about how Emma doesn’t care about Storybrooke by her absence at the meeting.

She drives over and when she arrives, standing outside in the drizzling rain, Emma peers through the glass doors, trying to gauge where they’re at in the meeting. A man she recognizes only by sight as a local storeowner is standing at the podium at the front of the long hall, gesturing to the oldest version of Power Point Emma has ever seen.

Emma eases the door open as quietly as she can, wincing as her wet shoes squeak on the old wooden floor, and slips in. There are a couple open seats on the left-hand side, and she sneaks over to one. The man with the Power Point continues his spiel, flipping the slide to one entitled “The Seaside Market” but before Emma can really get into the meeting, a quiet voice speaks from beside her.

“Ah, Sheriff, there you are.”

Emma turns, and Mr. Gold lowers himself into the empty seat next to hers, his golden hilted cane glinting in the light of the town hall.

“Mr. Gold,” she returns, her skin prickling with unease. “Didn’t make it on time, either?”

He chuckles. “No, no, I’m always on time. This seat just has a better view.”

She narrows her eyes, the feeing of unease spreading into full-fledged goosebumps, and she says, coolly, “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Gold?”

He raises a finger to his lips just as a smattering of polite applause fills the room, the man with the Power Point stepping down.

“Shh, Sheriff; Mr. Newport is up.”

Emma hasn’t seen Wes Newport for several days now, not since she dropped him off at his apartment last week, and she sits up a little straighter as he takes the stage. He looks as pleasant as the day she first met him, and he claps the man on the shoulder as they pass each other with a small smile.

He settles his papers on the podium, and looks out into the crowd, smiling. “Thank you, Mr. Patauger. Now, on to the next order of business, and what I’m sure you’ve all be waiting for. I hope everyone has had a chance to look over the revised budget that I faxed over to you all last week, and I know not everyone is pleased–”

As if on cue, several people in the crowd get to their feet, their loud voices drowning him out, even with the microphone.

“This new budget is a sham, we spent money replacing apple trees instead of providing enough for –”

“– the markets have already been losing customers, but to cut them down even more –”

“– Storybrooke is a safe town, the sheriff’s department doesn’t need –”

Wes Newport bangs his hand on the podium for silence, and it briefly descends, enough for him to say, “Listen, everyone, I understand –” but he is quickly interrupted again.

“You don’t understand, I am not some rich shell like you –”

“– I have my family to think of! Did you even think about that –”

“– you people are all the same, I can’t believe this –”

Mr. Gold chuckles beside her, sounding delighted.  “It appears we may be about to witness a mutiny on Mr. Newport’s ship.”

Emma glares at him, but she can’t help but agree. She hasn’t been to many town hall meetings in her life, but she’s pretty sure that red-faced and furious isn’t the usual composition of the attendants.

“That is enough!” Newport shouts from the front, and the crowd quietens slightly. Newport shakes his head in irritation and continues, his voice forcefully calm, “Thank you. Now, please, listen to me. I know many of you are unhappy, and I understand. But, if any you have a problem with my decisions as to the budget allocations, yelling at me in this format is not going to do anything. If you have a valid concern, I will leave out some forms on this front table before I leave. You can file an official report and I will get back to you all as soon as possible. For now, that is all I can promise you. Understood?”

There is a muted grumbling along the crowd, but then murmurs of assent filter through. Newport sighs and thanks everyone for their understanding again. He continues his speech with talking about some upcoming events – apparently the main issue is something to do with that Seaside Market from the previous presentation – and then updates the townspeople about some financial stuff Emma doesn’t even pretend to understand. When he’s finished, he steps back down from the podium, and Regina, who Emma hadn’t spotted earlier, is up there so quick it’s as if by magic.

“This wraps up our meeting for today,” she says, voice curt and cold. “If you have any more concerns, which I sincerely hope you do not, please contact my secretary. See you all back here next month.”

The crowd rises to their feet, their conversations filling the hall as they depart. A couple of people move to the front to fetch their complaint forms, and through the crowd, Emma spots Newport in deep conversation with Regina. She appears to be lecturing him on something, her mouth moving rapidly, and Newport is listening silently, his stance stiff and jaw tense.

The sight of it irks her and she rises to her feet, ignoring Gold and his smirk still sitting beside her, and moves up towards the front table herself. By the time Emma moves through the chattering crowd, Regina has disappeared and it’s Newport alone up there, shuffling through his briefcase.

Emma hesitates abruptly, a wave of uncertainty flowing through her now that Regina is gone. She’d come up here to – to what? Defend Newport, help him in this argument against Regina? The sight of Regina lecturing him had set her blood boiling, and her instincts to fight had flared automatically. But now that Regina is gone, Emma isn’t sure what to do. She hasn’t spoken to Newport since she dropped him off at his apartment a few days ago, and while there had been an easy comradery between them in that car ride, Emma wonders if that will continue past their brief team effort against Regina’s budget cuts.

After all, Newport is Regina’s town treasurer.

She nearly turns right back around, but before she can, Newport glances up from the front table and catches sight of her.

“Emma! You made it.”

He smiles genuinely at her, and her questions disappear. She walks closer to him, stuffing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, and says, “A town meeting, are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Newport chuckles. “They are a source of entertainment, I’ll give you that. Especially today –”

A man shoulders his way passed Emma then, making her stumble forward into Newport. He stabilizes her automatically, a firm hand on her arm, and they both turn to glare at the man who’d bumped her.

It’s an older gentleman, who Emma only recognizes as one of the men who’d yelled out during the meeting. He sneers at them, eyes cold and unapologetic, and it’s clear it was no accident he bumped into her.

“Sorry, Sheriff. Didn’t see you there.”

Emma narrows her eyes in return at him, but he ignores her, marching up to the table behind them. Newport had set up a neat pile of forms; the man reaches out and grabs one and, in doing so, knocks half of them off the table, leaving them to scatter across the floor.

“Whoops,” he says mockingly, watching them fall. He shoots Newport another ugly look, as if daring him to say anything. Newport, his eyes flashing in anger, opens his mouth, but Emma beats him to it, stepping forward and grabbing the man by the arm and twisting him to face her.

“Hey,” she barks, and he glares at her. He makes to pull away from her; he is twice her size, towering and built like a linebacker, but Emma is strong and pulls him easily around. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

The man’s eyes darken, and he sprays her with spit as he says, angrily, “I’ve got nothing to say to you, Sheriff. You’re the reason my mortgage isn’t gonna be paid on time this month. And to think – I even voted for you.” He shakes his head, disgusted, and shakes his arm roughly. “Now let me go.”

Emma glares back at him, but loosens her grip nevertheless. He wrenches himself away, shoots both her and Newport another angry look, and stomps off. A woman with an equally dark glare meets him at the end of the aisle and they depart the town hall arm-in-arm, slamming the doors behind them.

Newport sighs quietly from behind her, and Emma’s attention turns away from the couple. Newport bends down to gather the strewn papers, and Emma, swallowing her rising temper, the urge to race after the rude man strong and hot, bends down to join him. They rise together when all the papers are gathered, and Emma hands Newport her pile.

“What the hell was all that about?”

Newport shakes his head wearily, and Emma realizes this is nothing new to him. 

“That lovely gentleman is Ron Casolare. He and his wife own a cherry orchard, just on the outer edge of town. They, along with all the others who are angry, are involved with the bimonthly farmer’s market. But with the budget cuts, it’s been reduced to being simply a monthly event and, understandably, none of them are pleased.”

“No kidding,” Emma mutters, glancing back at the shuttered doors. “I didn’t think cherry farmers could get so angry.” She turns back to Newport, who has gathered the rest of the papers into a neat pile and continues, sincerely, “I’m sorry that getting me my budget back has created all this trouble for you.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, no, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault at all, Swan. They’re angry now, but they’ll get over it. Besides, I’d rather have a functioning sheriff’s department in town and they’ll come to see that too.”

“Still,” Emma says earnestly, realizing just how much he put on the line for her, what with these angry townspeople and whatever Regina had been yelling about at him before too. “Thanks for all your help. I don’t think I’ve even said thanks yet, but – thanks. Really.”

He nods, and then breaks into a smile, a mischievous light appearing in his eyes that looks strangely out of character and yet completely at home within them.

“Well, I am done work for the day … if you really want to thank me, you could come get a coffee with me at Granny’s?”

Emma’s stomach jumps into her throat, and her heartbeat quickens into a stuttering tempo. The very idea makes her walls throw themselves up around herself, encasing her in that hardened shell she’s so used to hiding behind.

“No thanks,” she says automatically, and so fast she thinks she may have imagined it, there is a flash of disappointment in his eyes. Emma swallows, mentally berating herself for being so sharp, and adds, in a gentler voice, “I mean – I just have a lot of work to do. But, uh – thanks for asking.”

“Of course,” Newport says lightly, the disappointment gone from his eyes, but Emma swears she can still hear a trace of it in his voice. “Perhaps another time.”

He turns away from her, tapping the papers awkwardly on the table to align them, his stiff, fake hand more a nuisance than an aid as he puts them into his briefcase. He’s already walking away, approaching a seat where a black rain jacket sits folded over the back, but Emma barely notices his movement, her mind whirling a mile a minute.

Don’t do it, Emma.

But this has been a good week.

Then don’t ruin it now.

This won’t ruin it. This could make it better.

Unconsciously, her hand flutters up to clutch the swan necklace hanging loose around her neck. The metal is warm from resting against her skin, and she runs her fingers over the edges of the etched swan, and she drops it suddenly as if burned. This is just coffee between friends, a belated celebration of victory over a tyrannical foe, nothing else. That’s it.

Right?

Somewhere, in the depths of her mind, there is a whisper that agrees no, this is not like before and a different whisper that says this could be better.

Tucking the necklace under her shirt, Emma steps forward and says, before she can change her mind, “Wes?”

He turns around, in the midst of putting his jacket on, an eyebrow raised. “Aye?”

Emma almost backs out again, but stops herself in time. “Actually, I’d love a coffee. I think I’ve worked enough for today already.”

Newport smiles, delight lighting up his blue eyes so they shine like a sunny sea back at her.

“Perfect. Let’s go.”

Emma smiles back, though inside she’s still a jumble. She hopes he can’t tell, but there’s something to his expression that makes her think he does, but thankfully he doesn’t comment on it.

As they get closer to the doors, it’s apparent that rain outside has once again turned torrential, and seizing the chance to draw the attention away from herself, Emma says, “This is just an excuse for a ride back to the centre of town, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Believe it or not, Swan, I actually drove today. It was raining when I left too, and Regina tends to get irritated with me if I show up to work looking like a drowned cat.”

So when outside, they separate to their respective cars, Emma running down the street to her yellow bug and Newport hurries the other way to an old black convertible parked in the designated spots to the left of the building, its hood already pulled up for protection against the sleeting rain.

As she drives back to Granny’s, dripping wet and alone in her car with nothing but her thoughts, Emma’s hands clutch the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white. There is something too familiar, too intriguing, too dangerous about Wes Newport; the stony façade for protecting herself, the one she perfected so many years ago, has resurfaced at the thoughts that have been bubbling at the edges of her mind, trying to encase her in its protective stone walls.

But her shield has been weakening ever since she arrived in Storybrooke, hell ever since Henry showed up at her door in Boston. There are huge gashes in the mesh that used to keep her so well insulated from any potential pain, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

When she arrives at Granny’s, Emma sits in her car for a long moment, fighting with herself. Half of her wants to bail on Newport completely, the other half arguing this is nothing to be worried about. It’s just coffee, for god’s sake.

But that cautious, worried part of her almost wins, until she sees Newport’s black convertible pull up to park behind hers, lights winking off as the car’s engine turns off, and she takes a deep breath.

Relax. You’re making this a big deal when it’s nothing.

As it to shut her mind up, Emma opens her car door purposefully, stepping out into the pouring rain. Newport is getting out of his car too, and they rush up to the door together, hands over their heads for protection against the rain.

“Bloody hurricane,” he mutters as they reach Granny’s door, and he nearly wrenches the door off its hinges in his eagerness to get inside the diner.

The place is packed with customers, as it usually is on rainy days in Storybrooke, an umbrella stand near the door pooling water around it, the owners of said umbrellas wrapping their cold hands wrapped around respective hot drinks. There isn’t a free table in sight, and Emma thinks that they’ll each just have to take their coffee to-go instead. And, to her surprise, that makes Emma’s heart sink with disappointment – disappointment she hurriedly tries to squash as soon as she feels it.

“Hopefully a table will free up,” Newport murmurs quietly, seemingly reading Emma’s mind, and she nods in agreement.

“So, what do you want?” she asks, staring at the old board above the window to the kitchen, trying to decide what to order herself. “My treat.”

Newport starts beside her. “Oh, no, Swan. I’ll buy my own, and I’ll get yours too, in fact, after all this was my idea –”

“Oh, so you can buy the coffees, but I can’t?” Emma interrupts, but her voice is teasing. “Relax, Wes. Order what you like, it’s on me. After all, like you said – this is my thanks for getting my budget back.”

He doesn’t look pleased, grumbling something under his breath that she can’t make out, but after a firm glare, he acquiesces and orders a simple black coffee when Ruby gets a spare moment. Emma orders her own cup too – two cream, two sugar – and while Ruby twirls away to fulfill their requests, Newport spots an elderly couple departing their booth. He moves quickly away to grab it for them, while Emma remains at the bar to wait for the coffees.

Ruby returns momentarily with the steaming coffee pot in one hand and two mugs in the other, thumb through each’s handle.

“I didn’t know you knew Wes,” she says casually as she sets the cups down, though there is an edge of something to her voice that makes Emma sigh.

“I don’t really,” she replies, choosing to not engage with what Ruby is trying to get at. “I mean, yeah, I’ve seen him a couple times, but I don’t really know him that well.”

“Seen him a couple times,” Ruby repeats coyly, pouring the coffee into the mugs and waggling her eyebrows. “What do you mean by ‘seen’ exactly, Emma Swan?”

Emma rolls her eyes, though her stomach does clench at the insinuation.  “Thanks for the coffees, Ruby.”

She leaves the waitress chuckling at the bar behind her and joins Newport at the table, sitting across from him and sliding him the coffee. “One black coffee, as ordered.”

He lifts it in a salute to her before taking a swig. “Cheers, Swan.”

Emma takes her own sip, and asks, as she sets the cup down, “So what’s the big deal with this town market thing? I’ve never seen people get so up-in-arms about something like that before.”

Newport sighs, and scrubs absently at the scruff on his chin. “Well, it’s been a part of the town as long as I can remember. All the farmers from Storybrooke bring their fresh fruit or vegetables to it, and some of the local artisans bring their wares. It’s a great source of income for all of them and because it’s been a part of Storybrooke for so long, a fair number plan their livelihoods around it. And now, with the budget rearrangement, things are looking tighter for a lot of people.”

“And they blame me for it,” Emma says, frowning. “Because I got their money.”

To his credit, he doesn’t try to lie or deny it just to save her feelings, just nods. “Yes, but I stand by what I said earlier – it is more important that Storybrooke has a well-supplied sheriff station. It’s just unfortunate that it had to work out this way for the market in turn.”

“Yeah. Do you think the rearranged budget will help?”

“Maybe,” he says, and sighs. “But let’s not dwell on Storybrooke and her troubles anymore. Tell me, Swan, what did you do before you came to our quaint little town?”

Emma is sure he already knows her whole story from Regina’s exposé on her before the sheriff’s election, but for some reason, the fact that he asks her, instead of just assuming he already knows everything there is to know about her, warms her to him.

But that doesn’t stop her from starting with the hard facts that usually have people raising their eyebrows and judging her, have them slotting her into the category of rough and hard and tough.

“I was a bail bonds person.”

Newport’s eyebrows do raise, as expected, but he leans forward in interest, admiration in his eyes. “Going after the bad guys, eh, Swan? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

Emma laughs, a true, genuine laugh. And after that, despite her reservations, conversation with Newport is easy and absorbing and interesting. He tells her about other stuff he does as town treasurer and Emma finds herself even talking about the other odd jobs she’s had over the various places she’s lived in her life. He doesn’t press her on why she’s lived in more cities than she can even remember, and Emma appreciates it. She has no desire to get into what has led to her nomadic, unsettled ways.

They’re swapping stories about their worst co-workers ever (Emma is surprised to hear his isn’t Regina, but rather a man who’d stolen money from the town hall back when he first started working there) when Ruby swings by, slapping the plastic menus down onto the table and making both Emma and Newport jump.

“Dinner menus,” she announces, grinning at their reaction. “Since it’s almost supper, I assume you’re both staying?”

Emma glances at the clock against the wall, and a jolt of surprise runs through her. It’s already past 6pm, and the thought that she was so engrossed in the conversation with Newport that she didn’t even realize how late it had gotten sends all those emotional walls shooting high up into the sky again.

Newport has pulled one of the menus towards himself already, brow furrowed in consideration as he flips through it, but instead of grabbing one for herself, Emma shakes her head and gets to her feet.

“Actually, no, sorry. I’ve got to run.”

Like at the town hall, Emma is sure she sees disappointment appear in Newport’s eyes, but it is gone again all too quickly and he smiles, understanding, at her.

“Of course. I’ll see you around, Swan. Thanks again for the coffee.”

Emma nods, and firmly ignoring Ruby’s pointed gaze, grabs her jacket from the booth and swings it on. She waves once more in departure to Wes – still ignoring Ruby – and walks out into the stormy street, her thoughts whirling away with the wind.

To Begin Again: Chapter 7

Jamie passes through the stones on Beltane to 1968.

CHAPTER 7: GETTING TO KNOW YOU / The Fraser’s spend some family quality time together.

A/N: Three things: First, I am so sorry for posting this chapter so late. As a writer (or just me?), I'm always constantly questioning the quality of my work and more often than not, think that it's not worth it. But I do love to write and I love this story, so here it is. Don't worry, there's more storyline to come and I am writing it. Second, thank you all for the amazing feedback on this story ❤️ , your encouragement is one of the reasons I can move forward with posting this. You guys are the best. Third, as always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. You can even suggest a scenario if you want, just hit the comments!  ❤️

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 AO3

Claire was feeling incredibly warm in what is supposed to be a very cold Scottish weather. She was starting to feel iffy in the heat and the quilt that covered her wasn’t helping either. She squirmed to get to a more comfortable position when she felt hands around her waist tugged her closer to the source of heat.

Unaccustomed to sharing a bed in the past decade or so, panic rose through her as her brain scrambled to remember where she was and who she was with.

Jamie.

Slowly she turned her body to face him, opened her eyes to find blue blazing ones inches away from her own. She reached out a hand to touch his face and when flesh met flesh, a relieved and uninhibited sigh passed through her lips.  “I wanted to see if you were really here”

“Maybe I’m a ghost” He teased back as they mirrored each other’s smiles in the humor of the apparent joke - not a bad way to start the morning. “I could watch you for hours, Sassenach – see how you’ve changed, how you’re the same” Jamie raised a hand to touch her hair. “Mo nighean donn, ye recall? My brown-haired lass.”

“Well, yes.” Claire said sheepishly. “I was wondering if when you’ll call me that again.” she saw Jamie burrow his brow in confusion and she immediately followed with an explanation. “You’ve called me ‘sassenach’ a number of times since you came and I was waiting when I’d hear you call me ‘mo nighean donn’ again. I know I’m not exactly the brown-haired lass anymore… If I knew you were coming, maybe I’d dye my hair black, look the same as you last saw me. Maybe, I just missed it, you calling me that…and…” She wasn’t an overly vain woman but this was Jamie – the only man she wants to want her forever. What if he doesn’t like her anymore? Suddenly realize she’s too old? Not attractive? Not enough?

Claire was rambling both in her mind and words and Jamie can feel his wife’s insecurities get the best of her in the moment. But since the moment they met some odd twenty plus years ago, he always and instinctively knew how to calm her and her fears down. After all, that is how he fell in love with her in the first place.

Softly and lovingly interrupted her. “I like the gray…mo calman geal. The way the light hits it – it’s like a bit of silver moonlight.” He said, whispering loving assurances that he can freely give her.

“Flatterer” she nudged her nose to his. “And that will get you everywhere, Mr. Fraser.” They laughed and Jamie leaned in for a quick good morning kiss.

As they broke apart, Jamie held her eyes in his, captivating her to focus to him. “But time doesna matter Sassenach, ye will always be beautiful to me.” he said so tenderly, Claire could almost cry. She buried herself even further in his embrace, wishing it were possible to be even closer than they were now.

“How can I not love a man who says such things.”

Claire lifted her head so she’s eye to eye with Jamie. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Memorizing each surface of their faces, what was familiar and unfamiliar, rekindling and re-knowing each other again, as if carefully assessing a recent purchase.

Claire spoke first, not breaking their eye contact. “A long time ago, you asked me what it was between us.”

“I remember. What it is when I touch you and you lie with me” Jamie followed up, every word memorized and etched in his brain.

“I said I didn’t know” she traced a finger up Jamie’s arm until it reached his hand and she let their fingers intertwine.

“I dinna ken either”

“I still don’t”

“But it’s still there. Aye?”

She nodded at their mutual conclusion. They might not know yet the people they’ve become now but even after all these years, they could still understand each other, know what each other’s thinking, finish each other’s thoughts and sentences. They are a little rusty but they’ll be back to their normal pace once they talk everything out soon.

Claire lifted her face, wanting another kiss before they began their day and Jamie is always happy to oblige. He leaned in but was cut short by their 20-year old daughter.

“Late Breakfast! Or Brunch!” Brianna called out as she knocked loudly on their door. They giggled as the thought of being interrupted by their adult daughter during what can be said as the beginnings of an intimate time amused them.

-

“Where’s Roger and Fiona?” Claire asked as she and Jamie emerged from their bedroom to find their daughter solitary in the kitchen stove, cooking away the rest of their meal.

“Roger had an early lecture this morning and Fiona begged this morning off since we finished so late last night, but she’ll come by later this afternoon” Bree explained away, Claire and Jamie accepting the explanation with the way their heads nodded in understanding. In truth, Bree requested Fiona to come in a little late so she could spend time alone with her parents but she was too embarrassed to admit that yet.

Claire and Jamie waited for Bree to come out with their food, the table set for three waiting for a hearty family meal together.

“I prepared or tried to prepare a full Scottish breakfast for us. Hope I did it some justice” a disclaimer before she said before presenting the food to her parents.

A combination of tomatoes, bacon, potatoes, sausage, mushrooms, beans, egg and black pudding were strategically laid across the plate and both Claire and Jamie look more than pleased with the result.

“Looks delicious, darling.” Claire said, pulling the napkin to her lap.

“Thank you, a nighean” Jamie chimed in, giving her the sweetest smile.

“What does that mean?” Bree asked as they all began eating.

“Ye’ll no have the gaelic then?” Jamie said teasingly and Bree shook her head at Jamie’s question. Of course, she hasn’t but Jamie didn’t seem to begrudged by it. It was really very understandable. “But I’ll learn, I can do it” a very determined Brianna assured him.

“Well, consider this your first class, then.  ‘A nighean’, it means ‘lass’”

“And what about the name you called mama? Sasse-nak?”

“Oh, that just means Englishman. Or Englishwoman for your mam. Outlander. Stranger. Not from Scotland” Jamie said in succession. “Though dinna call the English that, it’s actually an insult”

“You call mama an insult?” Bree asked in fascination.

Claire just nodded in agreement. “First in jest, then in affection” she explained to her daughter, then eyed Jamie having a silent conversation of their own.

“How about you, mama? Any nicknames you called Da?”

Both faces scrunched in deep thought.

“Only names I can remember yer mam calling me besides my own is ‘sadist’ and ‘bastard’” Bree laughed and Claire elbowed Jamie to the chest.

“Come to think of it,” Claire said. “I got nothing. I just called him Jamie”

“Cause it’s easier to call out when she’s in danger – which was constantly!” another elbow landed on Jamie’s chest.

They ate heartily, enjoying the feast Brianna has prepared and nurturing the time they were having as a family. They talked about anything and everything, from Bree’s first words to Claire teaching sex education at her daughter’s school, to Jamie sharing stories of when his mam made him learn knitting during rainy days at Lallybroch.

“Speaking of which, Sassenach,” the slight hesitation in his voice caused his two lasses to look up at him.

“Out with it” Claire pushed gently.

“Do ye ken what is of…Lallybroch?” he bluntly asked.

“Oh,” Claire placed her utensils down and wiped her mouth with a napkin, “Actually, Lallybroch is mine.”

“What?” now it was Brianna’s turn to put down her spoon and fork.

“I…ah” she moved her head and hand around as if painting a picture they’d suddenly understand but her two red heads just continued to stare at her in confusion and anticipation.

“I may have left Scotland but Scotland really hasn’t left me. Before we left for Boston, I asked Mrs. Graham to look it up for me and we found it. The Murray’s still lived there that time. I was happy to know that after all those years, it was still in the family. However, a few years later, Mrs. Graham sent a letter that the family was selling the estate as they are moving to the United States and couldn’t oversee it anymore, so I bought it – keep it still in the family.”

Both father and daughter are still stunned with silence so Claire continued on.

“It actually took three years for the renovations to be complete with the building as old as it was but your father built a very good foundation to it and wasn’t an issue. Don’t worry, darling,” addressing Jamie, “I kept all the history in the building, even the marks left by English in the doorway. I just updated it with modern appliance, heating and plumbing, but I made sure it felt as close to home as it was before – the furniture looks almost the same as we had back then. I was actually planning on surprising you two with a trip there but since you asked.” Claire resumed eating her breakfast, “I rent it out as a little bed and breakfast up in the highlands. It’s quite a beautiful retreat, if I say so myself”

Following her lead, Jamie and Bree returned to their food too. “When do we go?” their daughter asked.

“End of the week? Finish the classes you’re taking this week then we’ll make a trip for it. Sounds good?”

“It’s a plan, then.” Jamie said. “I canna wait to see what ye’ve done with it, Claire

They spent the in the manse just talking and getting to know each other. Their conversation mostly centered on Bree’s life from her birth to the present. The day she was born, the day she turned over by herself, the day she first walked, her first supermarket meltdown, her first lost tooth, her first day in school, the day she rode the bike in two wheels, her first overseas trip (to France!), her first school crush, her friends in Boston, her love for history and engineering, her recent graduation from high school and now studying in Harvard and all the things in between they could think about to share with him.

Frank was never mentioned and the conversation, thankfully, never needed to steer in that direction. Claire and Brianna happily recalled memories of their life, willing to share them with Jamie in the hope that it will fill a hole about how fruitful the sacrifice he made was and not a reminder how much he’s missed.

Jamie, to his credit, masked away any painful feelings he had as they shared their stories. It hurt but a larger part of him wanted to know everything about his family and he followed their stories with questions that gave him more details.

He loved hearing them talk, loved that they wanted him to know, appreciated how they carefully and gracefully pictured to him their life. He’s missed a lot but the way he sees it, Brianna grew up the way he always pictured and hoped and how Claire promised she would be, loved and raised-well.

The time went by so quickly that they only managed to look at the clock when a knock on their door interrupted them.

-

Roger could hear laughing at the other side of the door that he almost regretted disturbing them.

“What?” Brianna greeted the door. Her long red hair waved in the incoming wind and Roger was stunned.

“Sorry, I should have ringed if were still on for tonight” he hesitantly said.

“Oh, right! That seminar was tonight! I completely forgot! Wait, give me a few minutes to prepare” She ushered him in to the living room where Claire and Jamie were happily sipping their whiskey.

“Roger!” Claire rose and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Jamie stood up to nod briefly at him.

“Claire. Jamie” he acknowledged them.

“Mama! Remember the talk on ancient engineering I was telling you about the other day. That’s tonight! Would you mind if I went?”

Claire looked at Jamie and they knew the opportunity presented to them. It was a chance to be alone and whatever discussion they might have tonight, they prefer for Bree not to hear it.

“No, of course not, darling. Run up stairs in the shower and I’ll prepare your clothes” Claire said as mother and daughter disappeared upstairs, leaving Roger and Jamie alone.

Jamie offered Roger some whiskey but refused as there will be probably be some alcohol consumed at the venue. He also didn’t want to be too intoxicated to take care of Claire and Jamie Fraser’s daughter.

Roger motioned for them to sit at the sofa while waiting the Claire and Brianna and Jamie broke the silence first.  “I dinna have time to thank ye for your hospitality to me and my family”

“Ach, it’s no mind. Claire and Brianna have been the most wonderful distraction to my father’s recent passing” Roger shared.

“I’m sorry to hear it, lad” Roger quietly thanked him. After a few ticks of the clock, Roger grabbed his briefcase and turned to Jamie.

“I do not know if Claire’s mentioned it but I’m a historian.” Roger shifted the topic. “That’s what I do. I pursue. I’m like a dog with a bone. Since uncovering Claire’s secret, I’ve been helping them find you and I think I did”

“Ye did?” Jamie asked, curious. What could of him, besides Brianna, have survived the last 200 years?

He opened his briefcase and shuffled papers around until he found what he was looking for. “Well, I found an article written in 1765 in a journal called Forrester’s. It advocates the repeal on the restrictions of the import of spirits to the Scottish highlands.” He handed Jamie the paper and together they examined it. “This line – ‘For as has been known for ages past, Freedom and whiskey gang thegither’ – I think ye wrote it.”

Jamie looked at him, impressed by what he’s found. “Go on”

“Even in the opening of the article, you quote the poem again, addressing the ruling classes – ‘Ye knights an’ squires, wha’ represent our Brughs and Shires’ – this is a poem by Robert Burn, who was only six years old in 1765. This poem wasn’t written until 21 years later. Only someone with knowledge of the future could have quoted lines that hadn’t been written yet” Roger’s face was so alight with the discovery.

“It dinna indicate an author, though?” Jamie threw back, putting a little more skepticism in his findings but Roger handed him another piece of paper.

“I have the printer’s name – Alexander Malcolm – that’s ye, aye?”

“Aye, tis me. And yes, I did write this and all yer assumptions are true. Verra good, Roger!” he patted him a little too strong in the back that had Roger thumping forward a little. When he found his footing again, he went on, explaining more what he’s found.

“Tis is the start I needed to trace ye. I followed the trail back and found a little bit more about you since surviving the…war. I ken how ye survived and some pieces of your life in Broch Mordha, Ardsmuir, Helwater and back to Broch Mordha again.”

Then Roger hesitated and Jamie felt him turn serious, alarming him to what he feared most. “I ken about your other…family” Roger paused. “I was gonna tell Claire and Bree when I got back from the stones. I assume you’ve already told her…” Jamie’s eyes widened in panic but refused to look at Roger as he noticed his obvious wince. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It doesna matter. The truth shall be out one way or another. I guess ye knowing just pushes me to not keep it from her” Jamie ruefully said. He wasn’t planning on keeping his marriage to Laoghaire a secret forever but he thought they’d have more time to ease into each other again before they talked about the harder stuff.

Their connection might still be as it once was but the thread in which they were walking were still awfully thin and this revelation might just completely break it off. So no, he wasn’t planning on telling Claire…yet. But with Roger knowing, he couldn’t lie to Claire like that. He promised – after all – honesty and that has always been one of the strong pillars of their marriage. If it’s as strong as it feels it is, then hopefully, it will withstand this storm. “It was good to tell me. Thank ye, Roger”

Roger went on to share more of what he found out about Jamie’s life and he was obligingly happy to either confirm or deny his findings. Roger couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of taking advantage of Jamie and Claire with their accurate knowledge of the history he’s spent his life searching about – but he had the the closest thing to an accurate account and he can now search or confirm their story and change history as it was written. It will be a huge advancement for his career but at the end of the day, he knew he should, at least, ask permission and tell them of his intentions. .

“Do ye mind if I used all these yer telling me and modify a few facts written in our current books? It will greatly help in my career, ye ken, but I wilna do it if ye so.” Roger asked Jamie.

“Nay, write and change it. Is that not what history is about? Learning from the past in the hope ye can make a better future? Ye need to to share another perspective of history in the hopes that it can change how we see the world today – Claire told me that a long time ago, one of the things she learned traveling around the world with her Uncle Lamb.”

“If what I know is not yet written or ye feel it can add into something, then do it. I’ll be verra glad that this auld man’s wisdom is still worth something. Either way, it’ll be a shame to bring all these stories to the grave. I might as well put it out there to survive, hopefully, for a long long long time.” Jamie encouraged and Roger was the happiest kid on the block that night.

They talked more about Scottish history, Jamie surprisingly not feeling the heaviness re-telling the life he’s lived in the last twenty years. Maybe it was feeling safer in this time, maybe it was Roger and their budding kinship but astonished him that he found himself trusting him with more of his story in the very short time he’s known him. In some ways, Jamie Fraser might’ve found a new friend.

-

“Are you going to tell him everything?” Claire chuckled, eyeing Brianna from the mirror as she brushed her hair. “I can see in your eyes that you can’t wait for me to leave the house.” Stubborn and inquisitive, Brianna was certainly their daughter.

“Is there something I should not tell him about?” Claire asked, curious as to what the question meant.

Brianna shrugged. “Does he know about Daddy?”

“He does” Claire replied casually. She went to Bree and placed both of her hands on her shoulders. “The one thing Jamie and I promised to each other was to always be honest with each other. We can have secrets, but not lies – that was our rule. I will tell him everything and if he asks something, I will answer it.”

“Aren’t you scared he’ll leave if he doesn’t like what he hears? What you’ll hear?”

To be honest, it never crossed Claire’s mind until Bree mentioned it. Sure, talking about Frank with Jamie might be uncomfortable but it never occurred to her if it will be enough to drive him away. And knowing what happened to Jamie after the war, could he be the same person she fell in love with? What new demons might he carry inside him? The conversation was going to be worse than what Claire thought it would be and she already felt sick to her stomach.

“Well, that’s why we need to talk. Better have it all out now than later.” Claire said as Bree stood up, preparing to leave. “You look good to go. Ready to head out?”

Roger and Jamie were discussing clan laws just as Claire and Bree came downstairs. Both men stood up the moment they stepped on the landing.

It was going to be a long night – for all of them.

Of Stardust and Spacetime (4)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 (Final)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Kim Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Scifi, Angst, Fluff/Romance, Comedy

Words: 4K

Description:

On clear nights he looks up at the sky, and he can still see you. He can see the image of you transcending alternate universes tied together by iridescent ribbons, passing through the iron cores of distant stars, and sliding across Orion’s belt to meet him in that magical place between the stratums of space and time. And he can remember that you existed, and that you stood next to him, just like this.

The night sky is dark because the observable universe is finite. It was infinite, the entire cosmos would be a blinding sheet of gold with every star that ever existed in this endless realm burning brightly like inexhaustible suns all fighting to outshine one another.

“Once a certain quantity is reached, people aren’t able to grasp numbers. You get to the hundred thousands, millions, billions, and then you lose track. I mean, how often are we asked to imagine a hundred million people? Consider what that would even look like.” Professor Min Yoongi’s voice is subdued but firm, he pauses to allow the students to ponder over his remark before continuing. “Stars only make up 4% of the universe, but as you can guess that is still a very large number.”

Taehyung leans over to whisper in Jungkook’s ear. “Lets game at my place today. Internet is real fast.”

“Tae, we have to talk to the professor after class, remember?” Jungkook reminds, trying to pay attention to the ongoing lecture. He and Taehyung naturally decided to pair up for the project but have been wasting the past two weeks submerged in consecutive Overwatch marathons when they should’ve been deciding on a research topic. In retrospect, it was to be predicted since they are both game addicts, and it was honestly fate’s fault for bringing them together so they could perpetuate that addiction to new levels.  

“Oh, yeah, you’re right, you’re right. No more distractions.” Taehyung nods, turning back to face the front.

“Sir Isaac Newton is known as the godfather of modern day physics. Although his fundamental theories have aided in our understanding of the physical world immensely, they have undergone a few modifications since their inception.” Yoongi flips to the next slide. “We learn later through the work of Albert Einstein that time, which Newton deemed as constant, is not that unchanging linear progression it was once thought of as. I’m sure you’ve all heard of the famous Twin Paradox by now.” There is a nonverbal agreement that reverberates throughout the room. Yoongi nods in approval. “A twin hops on to a spaceship, travels to a distant star at the speed of light, and returns to find that he is younger than the twin who stayed on earth. It has long become fact that high speed and heavy gravity can both dilate time.”

“I never fully understood that.” Taehyung whispers another remark to Jungkook, who snorts in agreement.

“Einstein’s theory of relativity is built on the fact that space and time are constrained by the velocity of light.” Yoongi takes a sip of coffee, lubricating his throat before proceeding to project his voice to the mere five students in the back of the room. “Now, what time is, exactly, is still very elusive. I’m going to spare you all the details of the history of time, but if it happens to be something you are interested in researching, I would encourage you to consider selecting is as your topic of research. It can get extremely complex.” He clears his throat and switches to the next slide. “To date there are two main theories concerning the reality of time. The first one states that the past is gone and the future only exists as a probability distribution. The second hints that the past, present, and future all co-exists. We have since come to postulate that neither the first nor the second theory is entirely correct, and that time is more accurately a combination of both. It is nonlinear, in other words, reality is not a cause and effect relationship.” He smiles mysteriously. “Which brings me to the birth of quantum physics.”

Lecture continues for another 45 minutes, in which time Jungkook’s butt cheek falls asleep and he’s forced to find a way to inconspicuously massage it without other people wondering what the hell he was doing. Most of what the professor briefly runs through is not new knowledge to Jungkook, so he wasn’t allocating as much attention to the topics being covered as he probably should have. And he finds out that was a bad idea, along with wasting the past two weeks not brainstorming research ideas, when he and Taehyung walk up to the front of the lecture hall after class.

“Professor Min, we were having a bit of trouble deciding on a research topic.” Taehyung speaks first because Jungkook was a bit too nervous. He was never good at speaking to professors or interacting with them in any socially imaginable way. He constantly had this irrational fear that they would see through him and realize he didn’t know squat and was just winging life. Ok, so maybe that’s not giving him enough credit for surviving undergrad, but it certainly felt that way sometimes, especially when it came to the subjects he chose to study- namely theoretical physics.

“What have you considered so far?” Yoongi speaks without even looking up from his pile of scientific papers.

“Uhh, w-we..” Taehyung desperately looks towards Jungkook for help, but it’s obviously not something the younger could provide either. Cold sweat and panic ensues, and Jungkook may or may not be feeling the need to dash out of the room. But of course he’s not going to just ditch Taehyung or act like a socially anxious teenager- if it wasn’t too late already.

Fortunately, Park Jimin, the TA, steps in just in time. “I think the most interesting topics tend to come from questions that mean a lot to you personally.” He smiles encouragingly as he walks over to the two students. “Why did you choose to study theoretical physics? What are some of the unanswered questions you would like to shed light on?”

Taehyung is the first to answer, clearly more relaxed than Jungkook was. Said younger male is still not so subtly trying to avoid eye contact with the outwardly friendly TA. “W-well, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by space, astronomy, and astrophysics. My dad gifted me a telescope when I was eight, and I’ve loved stargazing ever since. Theoretical is just an elective for me to explore unproven concepts.”

“Good, good. That’s the way to start.” Jimin shifts his attention to Jungkook, who has not spoken a word since. “How about you? Jungkook, right?”

Jungkook nods, swallowing nervously. “I-I…” Fuck, he can’t think under pressure. Is having no reason a good enough response? Will this Park dude see through it if he just bullshits it? 

There’s a tiny little voice in his head that reminds him of his true reason, the driving force behind him sticking with a major that makes him feel incompetent 24/7. The motive that’s always been half hidden, that he’s deceptively tried to sort of push off to the side because it’s so ridiculous the only other person he’s ever told is Hoseok. And even that only happened a few days ago because it took him years (and after the event of physically holding your hand for the first time) to feel comfortable enough to reveal. No, there is no way he’s going to tell his physics professor, his TA, and his Overwatch buddy/project partner about you. They’ll think he’s lost his mind. They’ll laugh at him, and he’ll never have the guts to show his face ever again. Hell no, not in a million years-

 …

 An hour later, Jungkook’s cards are all laid out on the table, and he and Taehyung have a general idea on what they might want to research- more or less.

He fucking panicked.

The first little bit about meeting you when he was five just slipped, and the rest flooded out like word vomit. The good news is Jungkook managed to explicate everything quasi-logically and semi-believably. The bad news is Jungkook will be forever seen as the questionably crazy one. So much for trying come off normal…seriously at this rate, the whole world is going to find out about his secret that’s isn’t even a secret anymore. He can already see the headlines now: Scientist claims to have a girlfriend who doesn’t even exist in the physical realm.

Jungkook wants nothing more than to disappear off the face of the planet.

 You feel less and less embedded in reality as the days pass. Your limbs would go numb whenever you spaced out, and you wake up feeling like your mind was wiped clean, sans the vague recollection of your dream from the night before. The clearer your dreams the looser your grip of the real world is, and ever since you informed Seokjin of your hunch about your dreams, he’s been increasingly worried about you. Of course you haven’t revealed the rising severity of your current symptoms, not wanting to distress him any more than you already have, but it was hard to get anything past the young man who’s been by your side for most of your life.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re ok?” Seokjin’s soft voice laces itself between the severed pieces of your contemplation, bringing you back into the library the two of you were studying in.

You look down at your blank sheet of parchment. The flatness of its off-white color makes you feel dizzy for some inexplicable reason. You had not begun writing your report at all, but that was clearly not the cause of your spiraling unresponsiveness. “Yeah, I-I’m fine.” You shake your head to dispel the distraction.

“If there’s something on your mind, you need to tell me.” He’s more adamant this time, staring at you intently as if to nonverbally convey that he knew something was not right and he wanted to help.

Ever since you had come clean about your strange dreams, Seokjin has been patiently waiting for you to share more, expertly hiding his growing urge to assist you in discerning such perplexities because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It was impossible for him to not notice how out of it you’ve been lately, forgetting some of the most fundamental pieces of information about yourself, like you’re age and sometimes even your name.

“Does it have to do with the visions?” He speaks again after you continue to remain silent.

“Seokjin, really, it’s nothing. I think I’m just overthinking it, maybe if I take my mind off-”

“Y/N” Seokjin interrupts. “I’ve known you for over fifteen years. I can tell when something is bothering you, and I can assure you it won’t go away until you’ve addressed it.” He was right. It’s sometimes uncanny how well he’s able to read you, how he somehow understands you better than you understand yourself. He exhales smoothly and reaches out for your hand, giving you that familiar light squeeze. “Need I remind you of Irene?”

Your face immediately heats up at the mention of his past project partner for History of Pandora during year one who you wrongly assumed was his newly found girlfriend and avoided him for months out of sheer pettiness. It’s your most embarrassing memory to date; one that you’ve denied on countless occasions, and you can’t believe he’s bringing it up now.

“Irene did not bother me.” You pout, releasing his hand and crossing your arms.

Seokjin’s lips quirk upwards. “Ok, whatever you say~” One would have to be blind to have not spotted your jealousy back then, but of course Seokjin is not going to push your buttons. He never does. “But seriously, Y/N, you’ve been unlike yourself recently, and I really think you should reach out to Namjoon if you think it has to do with your visions.”

“Namjoon?” The name of the man who provided you with star mail service two years ago rings a bell in your head. “The star mail guy?”

Seokjin hums matter-of-factly. “I think speaking to him may provide some insights. He has to have at least heard of people experiencing similar symptoms in the past, right? They’ve relocated to a newer astronomy facility since we last went, but I’ve searched up their new address on the interweb. If you want, I can drive you there this weekend.”

It really shouldn’t surprise you by now that Seokjin would go through the trouble to find a way to help you without you needing to request for assistance, but the way he just casually threw his suggestion out there when he probably spent a good part of his day running through the different options in his head rendered you at loss for words. You end up just sitting there, staring at him with a slightly slack jaw.

“Y/N?” He says, waving a hand in front of your face, almost afraid you had spaced out again.

“I-I…. would really appreciate.” You finally respond, cheeks feeling a tad warmer than the rest of your body. “Thank you, Seokjin.”

He smiles pompously. “Would you expect any less from yours truly?” He boasts, flashing you one of his signature proud, verging on arrogant, smiles, and thus chasing away the butterflies that nearly started fluttering in your stomach and making you roll your eyes at him playfully.

 …

 As promised, Seokjin drives you to the new Astronomy Center at the heart of one of Pandora’s largest metropolises the following weekend. You had grown up in smaller towns that were only marginally larger than the villages out in the countryside, so you had only ever seen the capital city as images through the screen of your television.

Gazing out the window of the vehicle you marveled at the monolithic structures rising from the ground ostensibly able to pierce through the sky. Their mirror-like glass windows sparkled under the light of Solaris’s golden rays, compelling your jaw to hang slightly ajar. The roads were made of smooth concrete as opposed to the cobblestone paths you were used to, and the occasional sky train that zoomed by on the elevated tracks made you gasp in delight.

“Star Mail must be a booming business.” Seokjin comments as he looks around with eyes just as wide as yours, waiting for the light to turn green.

“Yeah, if they can afford to pay for a facility down here.” You agree, swallowing as the concerns of how to explain yourself to Namjoon begin to take form. You had been thinking about it for the past few days, formulating what questions to ask and how to describe the visions that fostered the purpose of your visit.  

“Relax” You hear Seokjin murmur as he senses your uneasiness. “This isn’t the be all end all. If he can’t help you, we’ll find another way.”

He had been reassuring you with similar words the entire ride, and you have to admit, it did the job of quelling the majority of your trepidation. Despite not knowing what you would discover today, you cannot disregard the hint of excitement that weaves itself between your natural anxieties, an enthusiasm that is only amplified by the breathtaking scenery rolling by.

The new astronomy building was a stark contrast to the broken down one you had visited two years ago. Built for the purpose of viewing the night sky, it stood on a hillside overlooking the city center you had just driven through the heart of. With only five stories, it diverged sharply from the skyscrapers that greedily took up vertical space, and its futuristic design made it more befitting of a research center at the forefront of science.

Stepping out of the car, your eyes are glued to the giant domed top of one of the sections, unmistakably made to house a giant telescope. It was understandably much larger and more overwhelming up close as you were standing in the most compromising position to view such a grandiose structure. 

“Are you sure you don’t need me to go up with you?” Seokjin questions as the two of you enter the facility. He’s looking down at the reflective marble flooring and around at the decorative portraits of outerspace plastered on the walls in just as much awe as you are.

“I’ll be fine.” You assure him. “The real question is will you get lost in the city without me?”

“Do I seem that incompetent to you?” He puts on a bored expression as if the answer was self-explanatory.  

You shrug. “I don’t know. It’s seems highly likely.”

He teasingly makes an offended face before nudging you in the shoulder. “Call me when you’re done?” He says, glancing at the large clock hanging from the ceiling.  

You give him a curt nod before heading towards the elevator. Although you would’ve felt much more comfortable if Seokjin stayed with you, you knew you had to do this alone. And despite the habitual reliance on your old friend tempting you to fall back on your dependency on him, it was about time you started facing your own problems independently. Besides, you wanted to give him a chance to explore the city and would’ve felt bad if he drove all this way solely for your benefit. You take a deep tranquilizing breath as he waves to you one last time before the sliding doors squeeze shut.

When the doors open on the 5th floor, you’re confronted by a large room with a decorative telescope placed in the very center. An enclosed balcony-like area that had a slanted glass ceiling was located at the end of the long room, while the left portion of the chamber was lined with tall bookshelves and the right was filled with computer monitors and more of those same pod-like apparatuses that you assume are for sending Star Mail.

“Hello?” You call out, wondering if the entire place was empty as there was no sound other than the idle machines, softly humming in the background.

You hear a painful grunt, the noise of a book falling to the ground, and the emergence of someone from behind a cluttered bookshelf. “Yes?” The vaguely recognizable face of Namjoon appears with those same square glasses you had witnessed him sport two years ago. He tilts his head when he sees you, seemingly trying to recall why you appear so familiar.

You gulp before speaking. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m not sure if you remember me from two years ago, but I came to send star mail with a friend-”

Namjoon holds up a hand to signal for you to stop speaking. He chuckles lightly and nods his head. “Yes, yes, I remember you.���

You let out a breath of relief that he at least recognizes you. You also note that he must have an excellent memory, since he had only met you once and has probably seen hundreds of fresh faces in the past two years.

“You don’t happen to be back to send more mail are you?” He cocks a brow, walking over and offering you a seat at one of the tables next to the rows of organized pods.  

You shake your head vigorously. “No, no. I was actually hoping to ask you some questions about some weird things I’ve been experiencing since I went through the star mail procedure.”

“Oh?”

You continue, wanting to get everything out before you the nerves caught up. “I saw some strange events while I was in the pod, and I’ve been dreaming about them for the past two years.” You glance up at him tentatively, waiting for him to either assure you that it was completely normal to experience such side effects or simply brush your statement off as nothing to be concerned about. There’s a period of silence as you watch Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow as he digests your rather quick and to the point disclosure.  

“What did you see?” He inquires with an unreadable interest.

You swallow again, slowly regaining conviction. “I was in a unknown place, and I saw someone.” You whisper softy. “H-he’s not Pandorian, he’s…he’s…different.” You proclaim with more resolve.  

“Are you sure?” Namjoon’s voice is lower this time as he raises both of his eyebrows in mild shock. This information was no doubt strange to him. In all of his years researching and aiding in the process of sending Star Mail, he had never heard of anyone having visions or hallucinations about a person that they’ve never met before while undergoing the procedure, much less experiencing such detailed dreams about said visions afterwards.

You close your eyes, trying really hard to remember just exactly what you’ve been seeing for the past two years. You find it difficult to recall these seemingly subconscious events, but you were pretty confident that everything was occurring in a linear fashion only it was abnormally nonconsecutive. It seems as though time is passing differently for you and the person in your dreams. “Yeah, they’ve all been about the same person. The first time I met him, he was very young. I would say about five years give or take? And when I dreamt about him again, he was slightly older and so on.”

Namjoon’s expression changes back to one of resting calm. He nods in vague understanding, unable to do much more than that. “What does it feel like? When you’re there, I mean.”

“Surprisingly, I can never remember much of it.” You huff a small laugh, recalling how difficult it was to even recall you were even having dreams in the beginning. You would only wake up more or less unsettled and confused. The clarity of said dreams have somehow increased in strength as you find yourself enjoying, for lack of better words, seeing that person. His lovable facial features, his boyish personality, the way he makes you feel like you belong somewhere your rational mind tells you that you don’t.

“Does he know who you are?”  

You nod. “He seems to be unable to physically see me.” You purse your lips, trying a bit harder to draw upon that sensation of communicating with him, the way your voice only travels as invisible sound waves to his ear. “But he somehow knows what I’m saying. I don’t think he knows what I am or what I look like, and he’s always…” You pause, trying to formulate how to explain that look in his eyes when you’re with him, that shy smile that dances across his face every time he speaks to you, the warm feeling he gives off even though it might just be your imagination. “…happy to see me.”

“I see” Namjoon continues to nod.

“Do you think they are real events?” You prod, mildly puzzled as to why the astronomer is not commenting on your statement any further. The man seems to be deep in thought, and you regret blurting out an inquisition so impulsively, not letting him deliberate in peace.  

“I have no doubt that they are.” He asserts, causing you to almost experience non-physical whiplash. You didn’t know he was going to give such a simple but assured response for something you’ve been hesitant to believe yourself and running through ways you can explain why they viscerally feel real. “If he’s not Pandorian, I would presume he’s from a planet that is millions of light years away.”

“Why that long?” Your question gives away your elementary understanding of metaphysics, but Namjoon remains patient.

“A light-year is a measure of distance. Space is so vast we have to measure distances using the speed of light, which is also the precise reason Star Mail is converted to electromagnetic waves. It’s the fastest way to send information, and it’s pretty.” He explains, adding that bit in the end for kicks and smiling at the thought of iridescent light beams shooting off into space before reverting back into focus. “The reason I’m bringing this up is because we’ve searched our galaxy for intelligent life and have not found any within a 50 million light-year radius.”

“What does that have to do with Star Mail and my visions?” You’re a bit ashamed to ask because Namjoon seems to be waiting for something to dawn upon you, thinking that the amount of information he just shared should be enough for you to come to some obvious conclusion.

“When you are separated by distance, you are also separated by time.” He answers. “Going by my gut instinct, I would hypothesize that he is somehow able to interact with that package of Star Mail you sent two years ago, but…”

“But?”

He looks at you with unreadable eyes, and you feel a chill run down your spine. “It’s supposed to take 50 million years for your parcel to reach him.”

...

The Adoration of Michael

Star Trek Discovery modern AU

Modern AU: Michael Burnham is used to taking care of herself, but when a handsome stranger rescues her from a heckler at a lecture it may be the start of a new chapter in her life.

Chapter 3: His Shot

rating: Mature

characters/pairings: Michael Burnham, Gabriel Lorca, Michael Burnham/Gabriel Lorca

chapter summary:Date, the first

warnings: some people don’t like Star Trek

Gabriel spotted her before she spotted him and for one breathless moment all he could do was stare and take her in. Her dark hair was soft and cloudy around her elven face. He'd never imagined that army green could be sexy, but the shoulder-baring dress, draped and billowing at the top, short and tight at the bottom, made him swallow with anticipation. Was she wearing a bra? She'd have to be bra-

He cut that thought off right there. She was a brilliant scientist who dressed like a million bucks; he wasn't going to drool at her like some twelve-year-old boy, even if those sandals of hers made it look like her legs went all the way up to-

A gust of warm air off the lake stirred that cloudy hair and Gabriel signaled to her, making his way down the planetarium stairs and through the crowd to meet her.

"Sweetheart,you're an absolute stunner. Never knew army green could look so damn good."

"Thank you, Gabriel." She ducked her head for a brief moment, and he smiled at that unexpected shyness.

"Let’s get away from the crowd." Without hesitation, Gabriel steered her through the crowd, one hand in the middle of her back. A sweet, soft perfume wafted off her hair and skin, and Gabriel found he wanted to drink it in. He held the door for her as they went in and once they moved away from the crowd, she turned to him expectantly.

"So what are we doing first?"

As she turned those big dark eyes on him, Gabriel froze. Had he really brought this gorgeous young woman to look at a telescope?

"Gabriel?" She touched his forearm with gentle fingers, raising goosebumps at the contact.

"Sorry, been a  long day.  Sky show starts in fifteen minutes, dinner's at seven, and when it's dark, we can go up to the telescope."

She smiled at the last, easing his nerves a bit.

"Well, let's go to the show then." Another smile.

"Alright."

Following the signs for the show they made their way to the theater. The show that night was in the IMAX 3D, ‘Lights in the Sky,’ about comets and meteors - shooting stars. While Michael was looking up at the screen, Gabriel found himself watching her, waiting for her reaction, and hoping for that first delighted smile. He had come to planetarium when he'd first moved here as a tourist and loved it, but locals sometimes didn't appreciate the things found in their own backyards.

He swallowed his nerves; the light show started, that first delighted smile broke out over her face, and right then and there he relaxed.

"They did not have all this when I was a kid."

"What was it like?"

"Dull, dated, boring."

"Why did you to come?"

"You sounded pretty excited about it, and I knew they had redone it, so I figured: why not?" She shrugged, an easy, graceful movement that drew his eyes to the slope of her shoulders,

"You ready for dinner? If you liked the show, you're gonna love the cafe, Michael."

He was right about her loving the cafe. For the After Dark dinner events, the Galileo Cafe was transformed into a glowing ethereal spacescape.

The walls of the cafe were glass windows set with white beams allowing diners to look out at the lake and sky. During After Dark the lights were dimmed to a soft blue that reflected off the white beams to cast a soft glow over the entire cafe. The tables were set with cloths of shimmering soft purples,  tea lights adorning their tops added to the warm, ethereal atmosphere and Chinese lanterns hung from the ceiling like orbs.

Michael's gasp of surprise and the delighted smile that blossomed on her face were a welcome reward to Gabriel.

"Wow, I've never- this is just really beautiful. I'll have to bring the girls here."

"Girls?"

"I volunteer with Black Girls STEM."

"I've heard of it."

"You have?"

"When I first moved here, I looked into the different volunteer organizations. Didn't have much to offer that one, but I like to think I don't make a half-bad big brother."

"Really."  Michael looked impressed as if she wanted to ask more questions, but the hostess appeared to take them to their seats, halting the conversation. Seated, Gabriel ordered a glass of red wine for himself and Michael started off with water.

"They've made this place elegant and beautiful."

"What was it like when you were a kid?"

"Dated, very 70's. Everything was brown and orange like a cafeteria. The sky show was slides, and it just wasn't fascinating or inspiring like it is now, it wasn't-" she stopped short, and Gabriel felt his curiosity pique.

"Wasn't what, Michael?"

"It-it did not make me fall in love with the stars; it didn't stir up any wonder or curiosity as it does now."

"It kinda does, doesn't it?"

She nodded.

"Oh and they had this god awful Star Trek exhibit."

"Star Trek exhibit?"

She nodded. "You don't like Star Trek, do you?"

"You mean Bill Shatner being a ham all over the place? I am in conntrool! It’s terrible, never liked it - pretty sure the ham acting was to make up for how boring it was."

"Oh god yes, Shatner is the worst 60's acting at its finest. It’s awful, even the new ones are bad. My roommate Sylvia loves it. She got me to sit through a couple of episodes."

"Bad?"

She grimaced.

"I like science-fiction, but Star Trek is- the science is bad. The old shows were dull, and it's military but peaceful - that's suspicious - and this new one- The one thing that recommended the old shows is this idea about hope and a better vision of humanity. This new one does not offer that. It's violent and bleak."

"You know a lot about this subject for someone who claims she doesn't like it." Gabriel challenged with a smile.

"A number of my colleagues’ interest in science started with Star Trek, so I have to hear about it."

"Got it. Like MASH or China Beach - inspires people to join the military."

She gave him a quizzical look, and he told himself to steer away from pop culture references she was too young to remember or even know about.

"You were saying?"

"I've just heard its praises sung over and over again and it's a shame about the new one because the lead is a black woman, but I can't let the girls watch it. I may not think much of it, but if it could give the girls someone to look up to and encourage them to pursue STEM fields, I could appreciate that."

"Makes sense. This came up from time to time during my service, getting more women into different fields and how those fields were benefited by them, and there's always a benefit, whether it's as simple as differences in thinking or approaches to problem-solving or,” he chuckled, “smaller people fitting into smaller spaces. In my experience as a tactician, any weakness that a female soldier has because of size or strength is easily balanced by a strength that she has that a male soldier didn't."

Michael nodded.

"Yes, exactly."

The waitress came back for their orders, and they decided they should probably look at the menus. Once the appetizers and dinner were ordered, the pair resumed their conversation.

"I feel like I took your moment from you."

"What do you mean?"

"With the heckler. I have a pretty good feeling you can defend yourself, but bullshit like that works my nerves. He was fucking with you because you're a woman and what kinda backward assed shit is that??? Anyways I'm sorry if I overstepped."

"Well, you're right. I can handle myself, but I didn't feel that you overstepped." Those dark eyes met his again, and there was something soft there that tugged at every protective instinct he had. "I was grateful."

"I can handle myself. Even if that guy had harassed me afterward, I could handle myself. I've been taking martial arts since I was twelve, jr. world champion at seventeen, I keep fit.  Get down to the gym to spar two days a week. I could have handled him."

"Shit, sounds like maybe you could kick my ass."

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Maybe we'll have to spar one of these days."

He smiled at that.

"So yes I could have handled it, but you know what- why would I want to? Why would I want to deal with that? I have been standing up for myself since I was twelve years old. I get harassment like that all the time, and frankly, it just feels good to have someone else speak up- not just because it spared me having to do it, but because it feels good to have someone else in your corner even if it's for just a few minutes."

"You deserve it Michael,"Gabriel said as he felt that protective urge intensify.

Their appetizers came then.

"Well, you did me a favor, saved me from myself."

"How's that?"

"I was about to snap."

"He deserved it."

"He did. I get a lot of rudeness my colleagues don't get, and I've gotten used to handling it, but when that man had the unmitigated gall to call me stupid at my own presentation, it made me very angry. Usually, you know the wink, the smile, it plays to their egos, and they calm down, but I got very angry with the way he was acting, the way he was talking to me."

"With reason, anyone would have been angry -you're a human being, you deserve respect. "

"Well of course, but you know I'm black-"

"-I hadn't noticed," Gabriel said with a wink. "I thought all that lovely dark skin was a deep, deep tan."

She started smiling again.

"If I get angry at something very reasonable I'm not viewed as a person with a right to their anger though, I'm "an angry black woman" and people get offended, and they complain-"

"-It's a whole thing."

"It is. It can mean not being invited to speak, a reputation as a hot head or worse, difficult to work with. It can follow you. Especially if people already think you're intimidating."

"Only the weak and the foolish would be intimidated by you, Michael."

"So what do the strong and the smart think?"

"The strong and the smart find you compelling, almost irresistibly so."

She froze, and he kept a careful eye on her. She flustered more easily than expected. At first he'd thought maybe she wasn't used to being complimented, but he was starting to think that wasn't it not exactly. Compliments didn't seem to make her uncomfortable just uncertain.

Gabriel sat back and saw her relax a bit.

The waitress came with their food then, setting heavily loaded plates down in front of them. The conversation focused on their meals for a moment as napkins and eating utensils were arranged.

The easy conversation resumed as they ate. He learned that she loved cats, had never had a dog, lived most of her life in Chicago and later in its nearby northern suburbs with an adoptive family, but had traveled a good deal as well. He wanted to ask more about the adoptive family, but it was probably a painful subject, so he let it go for now. He certainly wasn't at a point where he wanted to talk about Anthony or Ava even if they'd passed years ago.

For his part he talked a bit about his naval career, hobbies and some of the places he'd traveled as a young officer.

The conversation was easy and fun. She had a sharp mind, a dry wit and apparently a mean poker face. A question about previous relationships seemed to make her nervous, not in any very noticeable way, but her hands tightened, and he knew it was a subject she did not want to discuss. So they moved on.

They talked a bit about the differences between life in Georgia and Illinois and especially a city like Chicago. When she asked why he'd moved there, he told her that he'd had a chance to live nearby down at Grayslake and he'd always loved it. There was a lot he missed about the South, but the active vibrancy of Northern cities had always appealed to him. They ate and talked and watched the sky fade from blue into pink, orange and soft warm purple before black, lake Michigan changing colors with the sky.

"I'm gonna have a drink- you  want dessert."

Michael studied the menu, head cocked to one side, and Gabriel let his eyes linger on her. The graceful length of her neck, delicate collarbone, and her hand dainty and beringed holding the menu the light and shadows from the tea lights flickering on her skin. She'd make quite a subject.

And since he was watching her he saw her face light up rather suddenly as if she'd just had a thought that pleased her. Something told him the appraising look she turned on him did not mean anything good.

"What?"

"I've never had any of these desserts; I'd like you to pick."

"Michael," Gabriel narrowed his eyes, almost certain it was some sort of trap. "What are you up to?"

She shrugged.

"I just want to see what you pick."

"Alright." He looked over the dessert menu and picking his choice the moment his eyes landed on it.

"That one." Her only response was to arch one eyebrow.

The woman had a damned good poker face. He had no idea what she was thinking.

"Yeah. Delicate, nice combination of sweet and tart flavors, hot and cold and nice flaky pie pastry."

"Opposites."

"Yeah."

The waitress returned then, and Michael looked at him an expectant smile on her face.

"I'll have an Alexander, and the lady will have the apple crostata."

"I'll have those right up for you-"

"Wait, that apple crostata- that's like an apple pie a la mode right?"

"Yeah," the waitress said with a nod.

"Good. That's actually my favorite."

"Then I'm sure you'll love it."

The waitress walked away, and Michael sat back clearly amused by her little joke.

"You know what, woman."  Gabriel leaned forward, closing his hand around her fingers, resisting the urge to give her hand a playful swat, choosing instead  to caress the pads of her fingertips with his thumb.

"What?"

"I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you."

"I hope so." She said and then very gently pulled her hand from his. "I'm going to the ladies' room."

He watched her walk away, green dress snug across her rear, a small smile playing about his lips. At one point she had to ask a waiter where the restroom was, and every movement was easy and graceful, the way she held her wrist, the unconscious primpingof her hair while the waiter directed her, she was a knock-out. He took a sip of his whiskey wondering how it was even possible for her to be single.

He kept his eyes on her until she was out of sight before signaling for the check. The waitress, a very sharp young woman, had it ready, pulling a black folder from her apron pocket.

"Don't go anywhere."

There was, of course, no question of Michael paying. Gabriel took a quick glance at the tab, gave the young woman his credit card.

He'd seen Michael Burnham on YouTube, found her videos in an attempt to help Jake, his little brother, with his science homework. His only plan had been to kill a couple of hours at a lecture given by a dynamic young woman. It certainly hadn't been to take that young woman to dinner. Though in all honesty, he had to admit that he probably already had a tiny bit of a crush on her from her YouTube videos alone.  

Gabriel reached into the  pocket of his jacket, a small smile playing about his lips. He did a quick check, making certain that the contents - two fortune cookies that he'd grabbed on impulse before leaving - were still intact.