#with every candid I just woke up with my messy hair at my kitchen table video

[calpalirwin]

Mosaic Broken Hearts

Summary: More secrets spill out the more your relationship with Bucky grows

Word Count: 4.4k

And away, and away we go!

__

Bright flashes of light, explosions, blood spattered everywhere, pain, indescribable pain. You screamed for it to stop.

“Hey,” a voice was calling out, a hand nudging at you. “Hey! Y/N! C’mon!”

You screamed louder as your eyes snapped open, scrambling to get out of bed, and promptly face planting on the floor in the process. “You have exactly five seconds to explain who the hell you are, and what the fuck you’re doing in my room before I kill you. One!” You made your voice as threatening impossible, as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Where the fuck was a prosthetic when you needed it? Could you kill this guy from the floor? Well… It’d be messy, but you sure as hell would try.

With your mind racing, it took a minute to register that your intruder was laughing. Why the fuck were they laughing?

“Two!”

“It’s me! It’s Bucky. You had a nightmare.”

Different flashes went through your head. Screaming in the lab for a knife. Bucky offering to carry you to your room. You asking him to stay. “Oh…”

“C’mon,” he said softly as he appeared in front of you. One of his arms went around your back, the other hooking under your left knee as he picked you up and set you back in bed. “Do you wanna talk about it, or just leave it?”

“I- Gimme a minute,” you told him, taking a series of long, slow deep breaths as the adrenaline pounding through your veins slowed. “Fuck… You’re just seeing every ounce of vulnerability I have, aren’t you?”

“Could have just as easily been me having the nightmare.”

“Only you wouldn’t have face-planted out of bed in the process. Or at least you would have been able to get up by yourself if you had,” you replied bitterly.

“Can you not play that tough guy role who has it all together all the time?”

“I dunno, let’s ask my pride.”

“I’m not going to judge you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Or think less of you, or whatever else your head is telling you I’m gonna do. You can’t scare me off, Y/N. The only thing you’re fighting here is your own pride.”

“Yes, I’m well aw-” you started, then sighed. “Thank you. I’m, uh… not used to this. So I’m probably gonna be bad at it for a while. But thank you. For staying and stuff. Now… if you wanna go ahead and be the vulnerable one for a bit, that would be fantastic.”

Bucky chuckled, his arm snaking across your shoulders to hold you loosely at his side. “I’m sure it’ll happen eventually. I’m pretty broken myself. And rumor has it you have a soft spot for broken things.”

“Aw, he pays attention, how sweet,” you teased, squishing his cheeks in your hand.

He chuckled again, and you admired the throaty sound of it. “So, the nightmare?”

You let out a sigh. “It’s always the same one. Two car accidents. Two explosions. Lots of blood. Lots of screaming. Which is ridiculous to me because one of the car accidents I wasn’t even there for. It was my parents, and I was just told about it. But I still dream about it like I was there.”

Bucky stiffened, and you assumed it was in sympathy to having nightmares about memories that weren’t your own. “And then the other accident is yours and Tony’s?”

You nodded. “Yep. My family should just stay away from cars. We don’t exactly have the best track record with them.”

“How old were you when it happened?”

“When what happened? My parents, or my leg getting blown off?”

“Both? If you feel comfortable. It’s fine if you want me to shut up.”

“No, it’s fine. I was… Let’s see… I was 11 when my parents died. And I was 28 when I lost my leg.”

“You said after your parents died you went straight into the Army. How could you do that if you were 11?”

“Okay, so I left out some steps. My parents died. I finished school. Went to Westpoint, became an officer, then got shipped overseas. All the while Tony did whatever the hell it is Tony does.”

“And you were 28 when you had your accident, which means…”

“That I’m 36, yeah. Still younger than you, even though all that time spent frozen and whatever magic in that serum slows the aging process makes you look about 32.”

“I was going to say it means we were the same age when we had our incidents. But thanks for reminding me that I’m technically 99.”

You snorted. “God, my boyfriend’s old.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Shit… Jumped to conclusions… Fuck, sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I, uh, it’s fine. It’s more than fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I happen to like you quite a bit, Y/N. In case I haven’t made that obvious.”

“Good. Cuz I happen to like you quite a bit as well.”

~~~

Waking up in the morning with Bucky’s arm thrown around you was nice in a way you didn’t expect. While your friendship with him up until this point had already made you feel better than you had in longer than you could remember, the dating part was already adding to that feeling, even though it’d only been a handful of hours since you made the change from friends to boyfriends, most of which had been spent sleeping through the night. Bucky made you feel seen in a way you weren’t used to, and while it scared you, it also thrilled you. And it was more than just being able to see you. He understood you. He understood your pain. And it didn’t scare him. It was a relief to not feel so fucking alone, or have to put up a front.

Your problem now was not wanting to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, the long locks of brown hair acting as a curtain in front of his face. You knew if those fluttering eyelids flashed open, you’d find the most stunning pair of blue eyes, which was quite the statement considering you’ve known Steve for five years. Was it an unspoken requirement that you had to be god-level hot to be a super soldier? Or did the serum do that? Either way, it was grossly unfair.

You were awake, and your stomach was growling, and now you were in a predicament. One, despite your hunger, you didn’t want to leave your bed. There was a hot man in it with his arm flung around you. Two, getting out of bed when your prosthetic limb was still in the lab wasn’t going to be an easy task, unless you woke up said hot man sleeping in your bed. Which you didn’t want to do, because A.) he looked so peaceful and B.) you knew how hard peaceful sleep was to come by, so you didn’t want to be the one to ruin it for him. But god damn, you needed food. And to get to the lab to build a new leg.

It was fine. You could do this. You could get across the room to your closet where you had a pair of crutches without waking Bucky in the process. You were the king of stealth.

Through some small miracle, you managed to make it out of your room without waking Bucky, leaving behind a small note as to where he could find you.

As you made your way to the giant kitchen area, you remembered why you usually either hid in the lab until you made a new leg, or used an office chair to scoot about the place. These crutches were a pain in the ass, beads of sweat forming on your face by the time you got to the kitchen, where you came face to face with what could possibly be your worst fucking nightmare: the full team of half awake Avengers staring at you in shock.

“Morning,” you greeted, making it the rest of the way to a countertop, and leaning on it.

Mumbles of “hey”s and “morning”s chorused back at you, with the exception of Tony who went “Kid, get a chair. With wheels.”

Peter looked up from his bowl of cereal. “Got it, Mr. Stark,” he replied before dashing off.

“Tony, that’s not really necessary,” you started. “I’m just gonna grab something and head to the lab.”

“Don’t play the stubborn hero act. It’s annoying,” was all he replied with as Peter reappeared with an office chair. “Thanks, kid. Sit, Y/N. Toast?”

“Thanks, Peter,” you smiled gratefully, easing into the chair, leaving the crutches leaning against the counter. “And yeah, toast or whatever’s fine, Tony. Thank you.”

“So cordial, are you sure you’re a Stark?” Steve teased.

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned, scooting your way over to the table.

“Your leg okay?” he followed up with genuine concern.

“Which one?” you asked sardonically.

“Yep, definitely a Stark.”

“So hanging around the Manchurian Candidate helping you embrace amputee life finally?” Tony asked, setting a plate of toast before you.

“Actually it was an explosion that made me embrace amputee life. You were there, remember?”

“My brother, the comedian,” he said with an eye roll. “You know what I meant.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I mean I guess. It’s still not something I’m gonna go around mentioning for the hell of it. Kinda like how you don’t go around mentioning certain things.”

“Mentioning your business isn’t my business, Y/N, it’s yours.”

“I appreciate the discretion.”

“I’m sorry,” a man spoke up. “Is anyone else lost, or just me?”

“Scott, this is,” Tony started, but thought better of it. “Fuck it, it’s your business, you tell it.”

“Y/N Stark. Tony’s younger brother. Ex-military. Not an Avenger, I just live here,” you rattled off the basics. “Oh, and my right leg below the knee is fake thanks to yours truly,” you pointed at Tony. “Well, right now it’s non existent because I had to stab the prosthetic I did have. Different story, different time.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Tony interjected as people stared at him with their mouths open in shock. “I did not blow off your leg. Stark weapons did.”

“Same difference. And it wasn’t meant maliciously. Just a fact. Anyway, I’m pretty easy to find if you need me because I’m usually in the lab. Speaking of, do you need me today, Tony?”

“No, we’re fine.”

“Cool. Cuz I gotta make a new leg.”

“Aw,” Bucky’s voice pouted from behind you, “and I was starting to like carrying you around.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “You could’ve woken me up,” he murmured.

“Um… what is this?” Tony asked, waving a finger between you and Bucky.

“None of your concern,” you replied bluntly.

“Bullshit it’s not. Hanging out with him is one thing, Y/N. But whatever that is, shut it down, and shut it down now.”

“I’m going to say this as respectfully as possible 1.) because we’re family and 2.) because I don’t want my morning to become more of a spectacle than it already has been. But you don’t get a say in how I live my life. You had your chance to be involved after Mom and Dad died, and you ran away from that chance. And I try really hard not to hold a grudge against you for that. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me since our accident. But I’m a grown ass man, Tony. Who I chose to involve myself with is none of your concern.”

“Oh, so you’re fine with your new boyfriend being a mass murderer?”

You laughed. You laughed so hard you doubled over in your chair, your sides aching and tears forming in your eyes. “That’s the best fuckin’ joke I’ve ever heard!” you kept howling with laughter. “Mass murderer boyfriend, do you hear this shit? Cuz the rest of us in this room are so innocent, right? Cuz our hands aren’t covered in the blood of someone else? Oh, God! Yeah, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that, Tony.” You snorted. “Mass murderer. Yep. That’s a good one.”

Your brother’s eyes flashed darkly. “So, you’re aware that part of his mass murder history includes our parents? Or did Sergeant Barnes conveniently leave that out?”

You stopped laughing as you glanced upwards at Bucky. His hands were gripped tightly on the back of your chair, the knuckles on his right hand white from the force of the grip. His body was rigid, eyes screwed shut. “What?” you croaked out in a barely audible whisper.

“Yeah. The reason you got robbed of a childhood with Mom?” Tony clicked his tongue, pointing at Bucky. “Right there.”

You continued to look up at Bucky who stayed in his frozen state. “Tell me he’s lying,” you pleaded quietly. When Bucky still didn’t move, you shoved a hand into his chest. “Tell me he’s lying, Bucky!”

Slowly Bucky opened his eyes, his face, his gorgeous face, a painting of pain and sorrow. “I’m sorry…”

You hated this. You hated Tony for blowing up your life a second time. You hated Bucky for not telling you this himself. And you hated yourself for daring to believe that for once you could be happy. But you’d be damned if you’d let them see you break. You took a slow breath, sealing yourself off, the walls building around you. “I have work to do,” you said, starting to push away in your chair, but Bucky’s grip still held you in place.

“Y/N,” he said in a cracked voice. “Y/N, please.”

“You have exactly five seconds to let go of my chair, Sergeant Barnes, before I break your hands. One,”

“Y/N.”

“Two.”

“Please, let me explain.”

“Three. I swear I’ll break those hands. Metal or not.”

“Love, please don’t do this…”

“Four,” you continued to count, feeling your voice start to shake at the way he called you “love.”

He let go, and you pushed yourself quickly out of the room, not daring to look back.

~~~

In the lab, you tried to distract your brain, but it still raced. There were so many swirling parts, and you were so angry that you couldn’t pinpoint what was actually making you angry.

Footsteps and a throat clearing had you snapping up your head, body tense, not ready to face either Bucky or Tony. So when you saw it was Steve, your defenses fell. “Hey, Steve,” you greeted half-heartedly.

“Hey. How you feeling?” he asked, testing the waters as he slowly made his way to you.

“I’m not gonna bite your head off if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Don’t think I could blame you if you did. What happened back there was… intense. Tony was out of line.”

“When isn’t Tony out of line?”

“Fair point. But hey, I’m here if you want someone to scream at. Someone to help answer any of the thousand of questions running through your head.”

“I don’t want to scream at anyone. Kill Tony, maybe. But I’m kinda used to that feeling. I just… Fuck, I dunno, Steve. I don’t know what to be mad at, or about. I just know that I’m mad. Hurt. I’m hurt.”

“So start at the beginning. Work through it.”

“It’s true, right? What Tony said about Bucky?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“How long did everyone know?”

“It came out when we brought Bucky in. So a few months now. Obviously Bucky knew longer.”

“Obviously,” you snorted, then sighed. “Well, that explains Tony’s feelings towards Bucky.”

“But it’s still not an excuse for how it came out. There was a way to handle that situation and that wasn’t it. So if you want to be angry with Tony for that, you’re well within your right.”

“Oh, I’m livid. Like don’t trust myself alone in a room with him, livid. And I hate the position it puts me in. Being mad at him for telling me the truth. Sounding like an ungrateful, spoiled brat.”

“You can appreciate what Tony’s done for you while hating the circumstances that led to it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.”

“I deal in absolutes, Steve. It’s what makes the most sense to me. Facts. Fact: my parents died. Fact: Bucky caused their accident. Fact: their death shaped the way I lived my life, and the way Tony lived his. Fact: Tony’s actions ruined my life, not once, but twice now.”

“And where does that leave you with Bucky?”

You sighed. “That’s where things get convoluted. Fact: he was brainwashed as the Winter Soldier. So I can’t hold that against him. And I don’t. Me knowing Bucky caused their accident doesn’t make them less dead. So as stupid as it seems, I’m not mad about that. I’m mad he didn’t tell me himself. But even then? Part of me can still understand why he didn’t. I mean, there were things about my past I kept from him. And at what point do you drop a bomb like that?”

“So where does all of that leave you?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. Part of me wants to clock Tony for running his mouth. Part of me is screaming that this is exactly why I don’t let people in. And part of me is still stupidly head over heels in love with Bucky, even though I feel like my trust in him got betrayed.”

“In love with him? Does Bucky know?”

You shook your head. “We barely started dating. And I mean barely. Like it happened last night barely.”

“And now it’s already potentially over.”

“Yup…”

“Well. And you can do whatever you want with this advice. But, it sounds like the real issue is with Tony, not Bucky. So try not to confuse the two.”

“But how do I trust him, Steve? I laid everything out on the line, and he couldn’t do the same for me.”

“Sounds like you trust him just fine if you’re able to do all that. So is your real hurt, with Bucky at least, in the fact that you feel he doesn’t trust you back? I mean, and correct me if I’m wrong, but this is just my observations. You don’t let that vulnerable side of you show often, if ever. I mean, everyone back there expected you to rip Tony’s head from his shoulders and you barely raised your voice. You have a very tight control on your feelings. You have a very tight control on what you let others around you in on. So if you allowed yourself to be vulnerable to Bucky, I can understand how that powershift makes you feel out of control. I can see how any indication of him not trusting you back is a huge act of betrayal in your mind. It’s like you loaded the gun, and handed it to him yourself.”

“Have I ever told you how much you scare me with how observant you are?”

Steve chuckled. “I knew Bucky a long time before he was the Winter Soldier. He’s not gonna be the guy to let you down. But me telling you that, and you believing it are two totally different things.”

“So what do I do, Steve?”

“You gotta figure that out for yourself. But talking might be a good place to start.”

“Thanks. Seriously. This helped me a lot.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

~~~

Your next visitor was Tony. “So…” he started, peering over your shoulder at the leg you were halfway finished with. “Break up with him yet?”

“So… find a new way to blow up my life yet?” you fired back.

His jaw clenched. “Blew up your life by telling you the truth?”

“Blew up my life by fucking ruining everything, actually. I was happy, Tony. Actually fucking happy. And you let me have that for all of what? 30 seconds?”

“So you’d rather your happiness be fake? Be a lie then?”

“It wasn’t fake, that’s the thing! Look, I get that you hate him. I get that you and Steve were at odds with each other because of Bucky. And I get that hearing the news that he’s the reason for our parents’ death doesn’t make you exactly keen on being his friend, or having him around here. But, God, Tony! There were a million different ways you, or Bucky could have clued me in on things. And of course, you went with the one that would hurt him the most, not even hesitating long enough to think about how it would hurt me in the process. I knew you were a spiteful bastard, but this is a new low, even for you. Whatever happened to ‘it’s not my business to tell’?”

“That’s why I’m here to apologize.”

“That was an apology?”

“It would be if you let me get there.”

“Well, go on then.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I let my issues with Dad get in the way of me being there for you after they died. Not that at the age I was in any way ready or capable of taking on the responsibility of looking after a kid. And I’m sorry that it led you down a path of eventually getting caught in the crossfire of my mistakes with the company. And I’m sorry for how I handled the news of you and Barnes and the subsequent fallout.”

“Wow,” was all you could come up with to say. Tony wasn’t exactly the apologetic or remorseful type. He was the “throw money at the situation in hopes it went away” type, a classic Howard Stark trait Tony had been unfortunate enough to inherit, alongside the arrogance. And yet, here he was, apologizing to you for everything. And all you could say was, “Wow.”

“Yeah, great talk. If you connect those two wires, you should be good,” he said, nodding his chin at your leg.

You looked at it, “Oh. Thanks.”

“Yep.”

“I mean it,” you said as he started to walk out. “The apology? Thanks.”

“Yeah, if we could not mention it, that’d be great.”

You let out a small laugh. “Works for me.”

~~~

Your final visitor was Bucky. “Been wondering when you’d show,” you said, as you walked around the lab, testing the newest prosthetic.

“Yeah, I, uh… would’ve been by sooner but I got caught up in a few things.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I might have gone off on Tony after you left. And then Steve might have banned me from seeing you until I calmed down. And by the time I did that, he had already talked to you, and Tony was in here. So I talked to Steve. And… yeah.”

“You mean I missed out on another fight between you and Tony? Damn.”

“Heh, yeah… And look, I’m not here to act like an apology is going to magically make this all okay-”

“Good,” you cut him off. 

He sighed. “But I am sorry.”

“I don’t want your apology. I don’t need it.”

“Then… Could you yell at me, or something? This eerily calm thing is really freaking me out. Yell at me, Y/N. Tell me you hate me. Tell me I’m the reason you’re broken. Something. Anything.”

You paused in your small laps around the lab, looking at him in confusion. “Why would I do that? I’m not the starry-eyed prince who cries when his knight in shining armor isn’t real.”

“I- What?”

You winced at your words. “Bad analogy. I meant that I’m not the type who’s going to cry and scream every time my feelings get hurt. So if you’re waiting for that to happen, it’s not going to.”

“Y/N, please… I don’t know what to do here. I want to make this right. Tell me how.”

“There’s nothing to make right. I’m not mad at you, Bucky.”

“You’re not?”

“No! You were fucking mind-controlled for half of a god damn century. And Howard wasn’t exactly winning Dad of the Year Awards. Fuck, I can’t even find it in myself to be mad that you didn’t tell me. I’m hurt, Bucky, but I’m not mad.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, that’s the thing. And I know. I know I had so many chances to tell you, and I didn’t. But how do you tell someone that without hurting them?”

“God damn it!” you snapped, your temper flashing before you could reel it back in. “That’s not why I’m hurt, Bucky. I’m hurt that I trust you, and you feel that you can’t trust me back. I’ve trusted you with parts of me I don't let anyone even get near. Hell, I’ve known the original crew of Avengers for five years, and today’s the first time they figured out I’m an amputee. That’s how hard it is for me to let my walls down. And I let you break them like they were nothing. And as great as it is to feel chosen for once, I cannot fuckin’ stand that it’s one-sided. Trust me back, Bucky. Let me choose you back!”

He took a step towards you. “Love, I-”

There it was again. “Love.” God, did he know what he was doing to you when he called you that? “Can’t do it? Think you’re too broken, and you’re gonna scare me off?” you asked.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Then what were you going to say?”

“I...don’t know actually.” He took a few more steps until he was mere inches from you.

“Well, you know where to find me when you figure it out.”

You turned to leave, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, twisting you back around the strength and suddenness of the movement causing a splintering sound in your newest prosthetic while you collided into his chest, both of your eyes wide. “Shit!” Bucky swore. “Okay, that was not supposed to happen.”

“Bucky…” you growled, both in agitation that your new leg was already broken, and in slight desperation of if he didn’t hold you steady soon, you were going to face-plant into the floor.

Thankfully, he understood the hint, and more. His arms snaked around you, holding you upright while his head tilted down, his lips crushing into yours. “Please choose me back?” he whispered desperately against your mouth.

“Not choosing you back was never an option, Bucky,” you assured, your arms wrapping around his neck and deepening the kiss.

__

Tag List

@cxddlyash​ @stanofalotofthings​ @philthepegacorn​ @youngblood199456​ @binxiboo​ @creator-appreciator​ @felixtok​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @lilyoflower​ @mychemicalimagines​  @milea​ @partiesandblurrypolaroids​ @summerdaughter​

[wickedlyqueer]

Wherever the wind may carry us

Nearing their graduation at Shiz, Glinda prepares for her final event as president of the university’s LGBT+ Network. Completely unaware that Elphaba has a surprise for her planned...

(Final one-shot in the Dutch High School Universe. Can be read separately).

READ ON AO3

Glinda woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread in the oven. It had only been a couple of months since she and Elphaba had found an affordable apartment, but the long wait had been worth it—no matter how many times her old roommates had set off the fire alarm. Not that Glinda had exactly deserved a ‘best roommate award’, being the girl who always had her partner over and was prone to leave her pile of dishes out for days.

But none of that mattered anymore. After a year long search they finally managed to snatch an one-bedroom apartment in the centre of Shiz. It was all they could afford for now, and though the space was a bit crammed, Glinda thought it suitable. They were just starting out after all! Only last week had Glinda gotten her final grade for her thesis and officially gotten enough credit to graduate. Meanwhile, Elphaba had been accepted as a PhD candidate at the university and would be working alongside researchers like Dr. Dillamond. Glinda had never seen them beaming as much as when they received the news.

A soft knock came from the door and Elphaba peeked their head around. “Oh good, you’re awake. Breakfast’s ready.”

“I noticed,” Glinda smiled and nestled deeper into her blankets. “Hmm, so is there a special occassion or am I just lucky?”

“Well, it’s your last day as president. I thought you deserved something nice,” Elphaba said and crouched down next to her to give her a kiss. “Morning, by the way. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

“Oh you know me,” Elphaba said as they played with Glinda’s messy and curly hair. “I fall asleep at three and wake up at seven and somehow that’s enough fuel for me to get through the day.”

“How you do it is beyond me.”

Elphaba chuckled. “Well, if you’re ready to leave your comfortable cocoon, I made us a fancy breakfast. Got freshly squeezed orange juice and warm, tiny breads waiting for you.”

“Oz, that sounds good. I’ll be there in a few, okay?”

After Elphaba left the room she checked her messages on her phone and then put on her slippers and Elphaba’s comfortable sweater that was too big for her. In the kitchen, Elphaba was still prepping some food.

“Need help?”

“Nah, I got it.”

“Probably for the best,” Glinda joked and Elphaba let out a laugh. It was no secret that her cooking skills were abysmal.

A bit of free counter space was left and Glinda decided to hop on it. Elphaba was rolling up slices of cheese and put them on a plate and added a cut stem of parsley as decoration.

“Oh, it’s a fancy fancy breakfast. You’re really going out of your way here.”

Elphaba looked up to her and smiled. “Anything for my girl. I actually thought I’d pamper you this entire day, since it's the closing of a big chapter.”

“That’s true.”

Though her initial hesitation stopped her from going to any LGBT+ meetings the first semester at Shiz, after her gender reassignment surgery, Elphaba had persuaded her to go to one of their lectures about the differences in trans identities across the globe. It had been so fascinating that Glinda kept going to every lecture or borrel she could attend. In her second year, she became part of the board and was in charge of organizing the events. She continued this during her final year of her bachelor, and when applying for a master’s programme, she got asked to become president.

“I can’t believe this is my final day with the Network.”

“Hey.” Elphaba stopped what they were doing and placed their hand against her cheek. “Don’t forget the amount of good you’ve put into the world. You created this welcoming space for every queer person on campus. You’ll go down in the books as a great president.”

“And the first trans woman,” Glinda was quick to add.

“That too,” Elphaba grinned and went back to cutting little cubes of cheese. “Oz, can you even imagine what high school Glinda would think of you?”

“She’d freak out and run back into the closet.”

Elphaba laughed. “Oh yeah, she would. You used to be so terrified of coming out and look at you now. Here, try this,” they said and fed her a cube of cheese.

“Hm, this is good.”

“Yeah? It’s added with buttermilk and some cumin seeds.”

“Nice. Also, what was that about pampering me all day?”

A dark blush spread across their cheeks and Elphaba busied themself with whatever was on the cutting board. “Well, I thought we ought to celebrate today. So after the meeting I reserved us a table at Peach and Kidney’s. Maybe go for a walk afterwards, watch the sun go down at that little park you like.”

Glinda was touched. “Really? That’s so sweet!”

“I thought so too. This day is all about you. I still need to go to the lab for a bit, but I should be in time for the event.”

“Dr. Dillamond called you in?”

“Yeah, he messaged me if I could come down for an hour or two.” Their eyes glazed, but it was for such a brief moment, Glinda thought she must have imagined it.

“As long as you can make it to my final event as president. I may or may not mention you in my goodbye speech.”

Elphaba smirked. “Uh oh. Should I be scared?”

Glinda hoped off the counter and drabbed her arms around their neck. She left a lingering kiss on their lips. “Never.”

--

That afternoon, Elphaba sprinted into the humanities faculty building, out of breath. They located the lecture hall where the event would take place and saw the doors were still open.

“Oh, thank Oz,” they breathed out heavily. They promised Glinda to meet her beforehand and almost didn’t make it in time. The lecture hall was already packed and a few students were still searching for a seat. Next to the lectern, Glinda was in light conversation with the vice president of the LGBT+ Network. Elphaba took two flight of steps at a time as they rushed down the stairs. Before they were down, Glinda had already spotted them and let out a sigh of relieve.

“Hey,” Elphaba said and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay, we’re running a bit late ourselves. You got hold up at the lab?”

“I did, yes,” they agreed, knowing they wouldn’t come up with a more convincing lie themself.

“Okay, well, you better go grab a seat. I don’t think many more will be coming.”

Elphaba nodded. “Sure, and hey—you got this.”

“Thanks babe,” Glinda smiled.

They quickly took a seat in the second row and nervously patted their pocket to feel if it was still there. Not long after, the doors closed and the room quieted down as Glinda stepped towards the lectern.

“Thank you all for coming to our last event of this school year. Before I’ll introduce our guest speaker for today, I’d like to take a moment to say a few words. As some of you may know, this will be my last day as president of the LGBT+ Network. After this event, Jeremy will take my place, and I’m certain he’ll be able to lead this wonderful network with much care and great enthusiasm.”

She looked away from her notes and gave Jeremy a smile. “Upon meeting me, most people have reacted surprised that I am president of the LGBT+ Network. As a trans woman, I cannot help but feel flattered by this. It means I pass, it means I can live my life unnoticed,” Glinda took a breath. “But I’ve learnt more than once that this right of passing can be stripped away from you the moment people find out. This is how I got taught to hide myself and be quiet. I never took pride in my identity. It felt like a dirty secret. I was a dirty secret.”

Her gaze fell upon Elphaba and a soft smile tugged at her lips. “If not for my rock, my datemate Elphaba, I would still feel the need to hide. If they had not pushed me to go to one of these events in my first year, I would not be standing here in front of you. They taught me that, yes, queer acceptance still has a long way to go. But that spaces such as these help us be ourselves. And they were right, because it helped me become myself.”

Her voice started to crack, and Glinda paused for a moment before pushing through. “So to Elphaba, to all the wonderful board members of this network, and to each and every person who has come to these events, I want to thank you for creating this safe space for me. I hope in my two years as president, I have been able to return that favour.”

Applause rung through the audience. Elphaba whooped in support and Glinda’s cheeks coloured with embarrassment. Not that she minded, Elphaba knew that too. And why wouldn't they show how proud they are of her? If Glinda could make them turn into a pile of mush, then the least they could do was do the same for her.

“Okay, sentimental stuff out of the way,” Glinda laughed nervously as the applause died down. She switched to a different piece of paper. “Now, it is my absolutely honour to introduce professor Wertl who visits us from Qhoyre University. Her research in…”

Everything but Glinda faded to the background. It took all of Elphaba's willpower not to jump out of their seat and declare the love that was bursting out of them right in front of all these people. They dug their hand in their pocket and smiled as they felt the little box against their hand. A chapter would be closing today, that much was certain, but Elphaba was not done with their story yet.

Dr. Dillamond hadn’t asked them to come to the lab at all. Elphaba had to come up with a white lie, so they could run across town and pick up the ring they’d chosen out for Glinda weeks ago. Tonight, as they’d sit at a park bench while the sun would be dipping under the horizon, they’d ask the question they always knew they’d ask one day.

Nearly five years ago, they had been sitting on a different bench and told her they could not imagine spending the rest of their life without her. Those words had stuck true all these years through college, and now, at the verge of a brand new adventure, it was time to commit to that promise.

Life had thrown its fair share of curveballs at Elphaba, and they were sure many more were to come. But they knew they’d be strong enough to smash them right back with Glinda on their team. Nothing in life had been easier than loving Glinda. And with the ring hiding in their pocket, Elphaba would ask her if they could continue to love her. Today, and for the rest of their life.

[dracusfyre]

Sleepless in Wherever The Hell We Are

@winteriron-week  Day 3, prompts:

·        Bed Sharing / “I’m not drunk enough for this.” / Soulmates

“Shove over, T-1000, we’re bunking together.”

Bucky scowled fiercely; the last thing his sanity needed was to sleep in the same bed as Tony Stark. “What about the couch?”

A last minute mission delay on account of weather leaves the Avengers stranded in a cabin where there's not enough beds to go around.

Link to AO3

“Shove over, T-1000, we’re bunking together.”

Bucky rolled over to see Tony standing next to the bed, hugging a pillow from the closet and looking exhausted. “Why?”

“Because all of the other beds are taken. I was gonna bunk with Steve, but because Sharon’s here and they are back together again I got ousted. Natasha and Maria claimed the other bedroom, and Sam and Clint are on the air mattress.”

Bucky scowled fiercely; the last thing his sanity needed was to sleep in the same bed as Tony Stark. “What about the couch?”

“First of all, I am on the shady side of forty, if I sleep on a couch there’s no way I would be able to even move tomorrow without throwing my back out. Second, Rhodey has the couch because he can’t get in and out of a bed very easily unless he sleeps in his braces.” Dammit, those were both good reasons. As Bucky’s scowl deepened Tony sighed, clearly too tired to argue. “I don’t like it either, sugar britches, but this cabin wasn’t made to house all of the Avengers at once. Now scoot.”

When Bucky couldn’t think of any other protests, he reluctantly moved over, making room for Tony in the queen-sized bed. “You better not snore,” was all he could think of to say, trying to make it sound like having Tony in his bed was the last thing he wanted rather than the thing he wanted most.

“Yeah, well, just make sure you stay on your side,” Tony snarked, pulling the covers up over his ears until only his hair and his eyes were visible. Bucky rolled over to face the wall in self-defense, resigning himself to a sleeplessly night since every cell in his body was suddenly acutely aware of Tony’s proximity, quivering with an excitement that no amount of thoughts about baseball or counting sheep was going to fix. “And don’t hog the blankets.”

Bucky only grunted in response, trying not to move the bed too much as he got comfortable, a dodgy process at best with his metal arm.  Eventually everyone in the room grew still and quiet, with only the occasional susurration of skin moving against sheets breaking the hush. A steady, soothing rain drummed on the roof of the cabin; outside, it was an aggravating nuisance that had forced them to postpone their mission, necessitating the team’s stay in this cramped cabin, but now that Bucky was clean and warm and dry, the noise was cozy and relaxing, making him want to do nothing but curl up next to someone and doze. The problem was, there hadn’t been anyone for years, and the only candidate Bucky really wanted as a cuddle partner anyway was the prickly human burrito currently lying next to him.

He sighed as he heard Tony’s breathing and heartbeat, barely audible over the rain, become slow and rhythmic, his body going limp with sleep in a way that was impossible to fake. It was nice, on some level, to know that Tony trusted him enough to sleep next to him; Bucky could still remember the days when Tony’s eyes would follow him like a hawk, suspicious and resentful, every time they were in the same room together. Nowadays he could get smiles, the dubious blessing of an endless supply of nicknames, and, on rare occasions, Tony would join him on the couch as he binge-watched classic movies. At this rate, Bucky thought morosely, Tony might agree to a coffee date in oh, ten to twenty years. He sighed again, trying to get his heart to stop pounding, but his hands kept twitching with the thought that Tony was right here, within touching distance, wearing only an undershirt and boxers.

Bucky closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on something else. The botched mission, the rain, how he was going to get Sam back for putting mayonnaise in his shampoo bottle, but all he could think about was Tony. Thinking about how he wanted to roll over and bury his nose in that messy hair. Thinking about what Tony’s skin would feel like under his palms if he slid his hands under that thin A-shirt to feel the ladder of Tony’s ribs or inside his boxers to stroke down the smooth line of his thigh. His cock twitched at the thought of curling around Tony, pressing his hand in the center of his chest under the glowing star of the arc reactor and feeling the mind-meltingly good pressure of his ass against his groin. How sweet it would be to be sure of his welcome, to know that if he pressed his lips to the soft skin under Tony’s ear Tony would smile and turn his head for a kiss.

Gritting his teeth, Bucky pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes. He tried to use the meditative techniques his therapist taught him: inhale slowly, count to three, exhale slowly.  Focus on anything except the throbbing ache that had settled at the base of his spine. Don’t think about the way Tony had closed his eyes and tilted his face up into the rain, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, as Steve was canceling the mission. The way he had stood still as a statue in the mud and the rain and let everyone else hold on to him as they slipped and slid through the muck trying to get into the dry sanctuary of the cabin. The way his hands move when he talks, how sometimes his mouth can’t keep up with his thoughts and his sentences become incomprehensible to anyone but Bruce and sometimes Rhodey.

Dammit. Not only did that not work, but now the ache had moved under his ribs, a wistful, tangled thing that sent tendrils up to close his throat and press against his eyes, something that probably had an untranslatable name in German or Russian. Bucky pressed a hand to his sternum as if he could push the longing back down where it belonged. Christ, it was so much easier to handle these unruly feelings when he wasn’t lying down.

That thought made him gingerly sit up, moving slowly and senses dialed up to pick up the slightest change in Tony’s breathing. He slid his legs carefully over the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands as he considered his options. He could sleep on the floor; wouldn’t be the first time, definitely wouldn’t be the last. It was chilly in the cabin, though, and Bucky had no idea where to find an extra blanket.  He could hide in the bathroom and hope no one woke up in the middle of the night and found him lurking. Every square inch of the cabin was packed but he could maybe tiptoe to the kitchen table and spend the rest of the night staring at the tiny glowing rectangle of his phone.

He glanced over at the sleeping lump that was Tony, who was making soft, mumbling noises like he was talking in his dream. The truth was that, as hard as it was to lay here, as tortuous, it was the sweetest sort of torture and Bucky was loathe to give it up. Without thinking his hand reached out and hovered over the slight rise that was Tony’s hip, but at the last moment he curled his hand into a fist and pulled it back. He scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled as he gingerly laid back down.

“I said no peanut butter,” Tony muttered, sounding adorably disgruntled. Bucky froze as Tony rolled over until he was facing him, the line between his eyebrows smoothing away as he fell back into a deeper sleep. With a soft exhale Bucky settled onto his stomach, arms wedged under the pillow as he turned his head to look at Tony.

Bucky studied Tony’s features until his eyes grew heavy from the drumming rain and the cozy warmth and weight of the blankets. He let himself fall into a dozy dream that they were here by design and not by accident, imagined waking up with long limbs entangled with his own, breaths mingling, lying in bed together for long, languid minutes, maybe falling in and out of sleep a few times before they finally get up in search of coffee and food. Or maybe they would have relaxed, lazy sex, with deep, drugging kisses, no urgency until the last moments before climax. And with that pleasant image in mind Bucky finally fell asleep.

[deadlydollies13]

The Potion Master’s Grace Ch. 9

It was midnight of July 8th. Severus watched the clock as the hour hand hit the twelve. He couldn’t fall asleep, not until he wished her a happy birthday. He gently knocked on Grace’s bedroom and opened the door slightly. All he could see was her messy red hair splayed out over her pillow and the tiny black fluff ball that was her cat next to her. He walked in quietly and whispered, “Grace, are you up?”    He heard Grace groan and roll over to turn on her lamp, “Well, I am now.” Her fiery curls went every which way as she sat up. She barely had her eyes open, but he could tell she wasn’t too happy about being woken up.    “Sorry,” Severus had to hold back from laughing at the girl. She did look rather ridiculous. But he was unarmed and was afraid that if he annoyed her anymore, she’d grab her wand and turn him into stone. He sat on the edge of her bed, “I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”    Grace looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot from being asleep, and then glanced at the clock on her phone. “Heyyy, it’s my birthday! Aw, thanks, Severus!”    “Well, I know the past week has been pretty tough for you and-“ he was interrupted by the girl pulling him in for a hug.    “Severus you’re really too sweet. Thank you so much,” her voice was low and a bit slurred from sleep. She really had a hard time keeping herself awake, barely enough so that her brain could comprehend what was going on. But when she found comfort once again being held by Severus, she immediately started to drift off to sleep.    Severus felt Grace slowly slipping back into the dream world, “Okay Grace, go back to sleep.” He laid her back down, she mumbled something inaudible. He just rolled his eyes and tucked her back in, glad no one would ever learn that Severus Snape was being domesticated by a teenage girl and losing his sharp, bitter touch, “I’ll see you in a few hours, Grace.”    He made his way to the door,  just as he was about to leave, he caught Grace saying, “Night, dad.” He was stopped completely in his tracks. Perhaps he had heard her wrong, or the domestic bliss was just getting to his head and making him hear things. Still, just hearing her say it made his heart melt. “Goodnight, Gracie,” he whispered back, but she had already gone back to sleep.

- 

   Grace woke up the next morning, but when she opened her eyes, she saw darkness. Well, not complete darkness, more like something was covering her eyes, like a sticky note. She groaned, feeling too tired for silly games, and reached up to snatch the note from her forehead.    The note read, in Luna’s swirly cursive, Happy Birthday, Best Friend!    Grace’s mood was instantly uplifted. This would be the first of Grace’s birthdays that Luna actually got to spend with her. Years before, the Nobles’ had dragged Grace off for summer vacation, not so much as to celebrate Grace’s birthday, but so they could go off and drink and travel. Half of the time, their vacations were actually business trips for Mr. Noble.    Grace looked around her room, where there were tiny objects hung and spread across the ceiling, reflecting the morning sun. When she reached for her glasses, she found another note. Putting them on, she saw that Luna had filled her room with crystals. Crystal garlands, crystal mobiles, crystals everywhere; just like Ravenclaw Tower.    A little home away from home. Or is it, a little home away from home at your home?    Cas was pawing at a dangling crystal and trying to play with it. Grace, afraid he’d break it or make a mess, let him down from the bed. She just didn’t realize the little fur ball sneak out of her room and probably make his way downstairs. She never really told Severus about her cat, but she had a feeling he knew about him. Plus, Luna was downstairs and she’d act as a buffer to make sure Severus didn’t kill Cas.    Grace quickly got dressed, straightened her hair, and did her makeup. Thirty minutes, a new record since she usually took forty-five minutes in her lethargic state that was usually early school mornings at Hogwarts. She made her way day downstairs and she was hit with a strong smell of fruits and… chocolate! She practically tripped over herself running to the kitchen.    “Happy birthday, Gracie!” she was met by Luna pouncing at her, wrapping her arms around her and doing a “happy dance.”    “Ah! Yay, happy birthday to me!” Grace hugged back. It really had been amazing to not have to spend her birthday virtually alone; to have her best friend with her in person instead of texting or calling of Facetiming. And as a big bonus, now she had Severus to spend it with as well, who was now sitting at the table with The Daily Prophet, feeding Cas tiny pieces of banana. Well, thank Merlin he’s not annoyed by the cat.    Luna got her attention back, “So, how’s it feel to be fifteen?” She now had Grace’s Polaroid —must have taken it from her room when she put the crystals in— and was taking candids of Grace.    “Ummm… Well, y’know, I think I feel a wrinkle coming on,” she said jokingly.    Severus snorted, “Oh, don’t even start, Grace.”    As Grace sat down, he put the paper down. Finally realizing that her red curls were flattened down and hung as low as her waist, and her makeup was done, and she looked significantly older. Severus didn’t know why this scared him so much, but it did. He didn’t realize how much a kid could grow up literally overnight, “When did you go from fourteen to nineteen?”    Grace, now used to Severus’ dry sense of humor and knew how to take his words, just laughed. Luna sat across from her and levitated their plates over—which was crepes with Nutella and strawberry and bananas— along with what seemingly looked like orange juice, but once Grace took a sip, realized Luna had spiked it with champagne, “Luna!”    “What? Professor said it was okay!”    “You’re fifteen, and it’s not as if you can get drunk on just one drink. Unless you’re a complete lightweight, and that’s just pitiful,” Severus added with a smirk.    “Oh! Do you know what he did?” Grace said to Luna. “Twelve am this morning, I’m woken up by him!”    Luna gave Severus a strange look, “For what?”    “To be the first to say happy birthday, which was very sweet. But still! When’s your birthday, Severus? January 9th? Oh yeah, just you wait. I’m getting a bugle horn and everything!”

-

   Halfway through breakfast, Grace’s phone began to ‘ding’ like crazy. She groaned, “Birthday texts.”    She began to open them, replying to a few from those who meant the most to her, not just the ones who talked to her on her birthday or when they needed something. But one text, one with no name, especially caught her attention.    Happy Birthday, Fireball.    “Fireball” was what Grace was known as on the Quidditch pitch, for her fiery red hair and because of how fast she was. But who would call her that in a mysterious text?    Who is this?    She eagerly awaited a reply, her curiosity piqued. Her leg shaking under the table, trying to think of who the mystery person was. Finally, her phone dinged again.    It’s Draco. Surprised you didn’t already have my number when I have yours, little red.    Grace felt like she had been hit with a bludger; she almost dropped her phone, almost screamed, almost fell out of her seat. Instead, she just gasped, “Oh shit!”    Both Luna and Severus went, “What’s wrong?” in a panicked tone.    Grace’s eyes shot up to Luna’s, “Did you give Draco Malfoy my number?!” Now, Grace sounded panicked.    “Uh, yes?”    “Why?”    “Because he asked me!”    “When did he ask you? Why did he ask you?”    “He asked me on the last day of school before we went to the platform!”    “But we hate each other! We butt heads all the time!”    “But you like him, Grace! Look at yourself, your face is all flushed, your pupils are practically dilated from just the sound of his name. And now you have his number, so there’s no excuse not to text him and get to know the real Draco. And, who knows, if he cared enough to say ‘Happy Birthday,’ maybe he actually-“    “Don’t say it, Luna Lovegood!”    “-likes you back,” Luna crossed her arms with a smug look on her face as Grace slouched down in her chair in defeat. She tried to mumble out a final, “I don’t fancy Draco stupid Malfoy,” but it was no use.    Severus really had a hard time not breaking into a fit of laughter, for Grace’s sake. She was already embarrassed enough. Actually, he felt kind of sorry for her, being ousted like that. So, he decided to help her get back at her friend, “Maybe you should follow your own advice, Miss Lovegood, and finally ask out Mr. Scamander?”    Now Luna was the one with the flushed face, “How’d you know?”    “Everyone knows. Just like everyone got the sense that Grace had feelings for Malfoy. And now both of those theories are proven.”    Luna groaned and slouched in her seat, mirroring Grace. Severus smirked, “You girls are ridiculous.”    Both said at the same time, “Oh, shut up.”

-

   After breakfast, Severus used Grace and Luna’s nonstop chattering as a chance to slip into his office to grab Grace’s adoption forms. He didn’t know how to present them to her, or how she’d even react. But, she kept making future plans as if she was going to be around for a long time, so surely that meant that she wanted to stay, right? From the other room, he could hear the girls’ laughter, and he realized that Grace had always been a part of his life ever since coming to Hogwarts. He remembered the first time he had met the tiny Ravenclaw.

-

   The new first years shuffled into the Great Hall in a jumbled line. Their wide eyes scanned every inch of the room in awe. Some knew what to expect, these were Purebloods or Half-bloods that had done their research on Hogwarts or had family and siblings who had come before them. The Muggle-borns were easy to pick out of the crowd; they were the ones who looked like deer in headlights, unable to believe what they were seeing.    Severus, bored of seeing the same routine thing over and over again, made a game of it all. He’d try to determine each child’s house before the Sorting Hat made its choice. Most of the time, just by looking at them, he was right. He was especially good at picking out future snakes.    “Hey, look, it’s ‘Loony’ Lovegood!” Severus’ eyes followed the voice to, of course, a second year Draco Malfoy. Young, but still a tosser. His friends found what he said funny, but he knew all the better what the Lovegood child had been through, and though he would never, ever show it or admit to it, he felt awfully bad for her and her father.    But, Luna didn’t seem to mind at all. The platinum blonde was being distracted by a very tiny redheaded girl. Was this girl actually eleven? She was as tall as Professor Flitwick, well, maybe a bit taller. But her red hair fell down to her waist which exaggerated her tiny physique even more. She reminded him ever so much of a certain childhood friend of his that he cared deeply for, but lost.    The redhead was going a mile-a-minute asking the Lovegood girl questions, and she happily answered all of them. Then, their attention was brought to the head table, where she asked who each person was. When the redhead’s eyes landed on Severus, their eyes met. Luna looked somewhat terrified, but the redhead smiled brightly and waved really quickly before McGonagall started calling names. Severus smiled slightly and gave a curt nod to the girl so to not be noticed by anyone else. Hufflepuff, maybe? Or who knows, maybe Slytherin?    McGonagall called, “Lovegood, Luna,” and the blonde made her way to the stool and the Sorting Hat was plopped on her head. The Hat didn’t take long to finally say, “Ravenclaw!” It was the same house her father and mother had been in, and perhaps it would be good for the child after what she went through. The Ravenclaw table clapped and cheered, but she stopped before going to her seat. Instead, she stood nearby the stool and waited as the redhead girl was called up, “McClivert, Grace!”    The tiniest First year Severus had ever seen, not just in height, but she was awfully skinny as well, a skinny that meant she hadn’t been fed properly. She slowly made her way up to the stool, and even had to give herself a tiny jump-boost to sit.    The Sorting Hat was placed on her head, flattening down her red curls, “Hmmm…You’d do very well in Slytherin. But you’re thinking very fast… Tricky…”    “Don’t put me in Slytherin! Put me in Ravenclaw! I’m smart and value learning and knowledge more than anything else,” Severus was in shock, not only because of such a thick Irish accent coming from such a tiny girl but because he never heard someone argue for Ravenclaw.    She continued to argue with the Hat, using words Severus didn’t think was in an eleven-year old’s vocabulary. Maybe she did belong in Ravenclaw on account of her brains and wit, but the Hat wasn’t wrong, she was being awfully Slytherin-like.    Finally, the Hat said, “Ravenclaw!” and the girl beamed and ran to Luna, taking her hand and walking to the Ravenclaw table together. Though, Severus had to admit he was almost a little disappointed.

   In Potion’s class the next day, Grace had dragged Luna all the way up to the front of the class to sit front-and-center. Severus began with his usual speech he said every year to the new students, just to intimidate them enough so that they wouldn’t act like the dunderheads they were, but it ultimately left no lasting effect. While all of the other students looked scared, Grace was gazing around the room, interested in anything else but whatever Severus was saying.    “Miss McClivert!” Grace’s head snapped toward him, her curls whipping in front of her face.    “Yes, sir?”    “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Sure, Severus knew it was almost impossible for her, a Muggle-born, to know the answer. But after her row with the Sorting Hat the previous day, he wanted to test her knowledge to see if she could at least walk through it.    For a moment, her eyes were wide and just stared at him, but not in fear, not in shock. No, her eyes weren’t even looking at him, they were looking at the board behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing written. But she saw something because her eyes were flicking back and forth as if she were reading. Finally, it was like a lightbulb went off and she threw open her textbook and began flipping through the pages. She scribbled what looked like nonsense on a piece of parchment, but with a pen, totally disregarding the quill, because that would take too long. She was flipping through the textbook pages so quickly, he was surprised she didn’t get a paper cut or tear the page. Severus didn’t know how long it took her, but it was incredibly fast. She held up her paper and flipped it around so Severus could see what she wrote; it was math. She had turned his question into a chemical equation, with properties he didn’t know the two ingredients had. She made something that was supposed to be abstractly learned and memorized into that of which was logical and could be proven using experimental evidence. “Draught of Living Death, sir,” she was so confident in her answer, as she should be.    The other students just stared at her in shock, even Luna looked thoroughly surprised. Severus had a baffled look on his face as well. Slowly, Grace’s confidence began to fade, “It’s… just like chemistry. Right, sir?” He could hear a few students whisper, What’s chemistry?    “Miss McClivert, go up to the board and redo the problem and explain why you did each step,” frankly, Severus was rather intrigued by her method. Should there be a simpler way to understand Potions— to teach it— he wanted to know.    The Ravenclaw made her way up to the board, and standing on her tip-toes, wrote and explained every step. There were even some students who took notes, others just looked at her like she was crazy. But she so eloquently broke apart the potions recipe, and then another, and another, Severus just called out random potions that came to mind, and she managed to figure them all out just by flipping through her textbook pages and her Muggle methods.    Later that day, Severus ran into a few of Grace’s professors and Dumbledore. “So, how was everybody’s first day with the First years?” Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye.    They all replied that things went smoothly, no one had died or got injured at least. Then Severus spoke up, “Miss McClivert, she’s too advanced for First Year Potions class, she needs to be transferred to a more advanced class. It’s only the first day and I feel that she’s already not being challenged enough.”    “But, she’s a Muggle-born, how could she be so advanced in something she only just found out about?” asked Flitwick.    “Chemistry. She used Muggle chemistry equations to put logic behind the potions ingredients. I named off completely random potions, some even that aren’t to be learned until the Third or Fourth year, and she solved them perfectly!” replied Severus.    Dumbledore intervened, “But that is just the thing, my dear boy. There are certain potions, certain charms, certain spells, that are to be taught only to the appropriate age group. Ministry rules. Besides, it is best to keep her surrounded by her fellow First years.”    “But, she’s too clever for that! Within a few years, with extra practice, she could have a Masters in Potion-making before she’s eighteen. Isn’t she that advanced in her other classes?” he looked to his colleagues, but they just shrugged.    “She seemed to be on the same level as the rest of the class; asked plenty of questions as anyone else,” McGonagall said.    “It’s because she’s still just a Muggle-born,” said Lupin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. “Potions really doesn’t require magic like Transfiguration or Charms does. Like Severus said, she compares it to chemistry, making it easier for her to learn.”    “Perhaps Severus could give the girl some extra Potions work. She’d still remain in the same class, but would learn a step ahead of everyone,” Minerva said to Dumbledore. He took a moment to contemplate, and then finally agreed.    And since Grace’s second week of her First year, she was doing extra problems, extra essays, staying after to make potions alongside Severus and even help him with his personal potions when she was done her work. He also didn’t know that she had snatched an old copy of Advanced Potions Making from the closet, and he didn’t know that it was his own textbook from when he was a student that he had made notes inside and rewrote instructions and even made up his own spells. And Grace hadn’t known that the Half-Blood Prince whom the book belonged to was actually her favorite professor, the one who believed in her and had big expectations for her and gave her a chance in this new world.

-

   And now, here was Severus again, giving her another chance at a family. Sure, they wouldn’t be a nuclear family, certainly not the Brady Bunch, but it was more than what Grace had now.    “Severus, you didn’t have to get me anything. Really, you’ve given me more than I could ask for,” she held the manilla envelope, playing with the metal clasp that kept it shut.    “Trust me, I haven’t done that much,” he gestured for her to open it, now his nerves were getting to him.    Whatever was inside the envelope, it was light and flat, so obviously paper. But what could it have possibly been? And why is Luna recording me? “Why are you recording me?”    “Oh, trust me, you’re going to want to remember this,” her best friend replied.    “You know what it is?” Luna just nodded.    Grace opened the envelope and pulled the papers out. For a few seconds, nothing registered. It was like she had never seen the word “Adoption” before, or never thought she’d see the word so close to her name. Finally, something clicked, her jaw dropped, and her eyes filled up with tears. She covered her mouth with her free hand and whispered, “Oh my God…” a phrase she only used on special occasions in which she was in so much shock that she forgot she was in the Wizarding World. Severus, of course, knew she crying out of pure happiness only by how her eyes squinted with glee and there was a laugh or two between each “Oh my God.”    He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Grace, are you all right?” Instantly, she was up and had her arms wrapped around Severus. He hugged her back, which only caused more tears and more giggles.    She finally got a hold of herself and looked at Severus with the most sincere look he had ever seen from her, “You have given me…” she choked on her words and while averting her eyes, bit her tongue so she didn’t break out into hysterics again. “Ever since I came here, you’ve given me more than I could ever ask for. And you are so kind to me— overly kind and caring— I’ve just- I’ve never had an adult care so much for me and it scared me! I thought, ‘This is all too good to be true, he’s going to get rid of me at the first chance!’ But now I know you’re not and that’s- you have no idea how grateful I am.”    It was like the last bit of stone chipped away from Severus’ heart and he felt himself melt completely. He even felt a few tears threaten to form in his eyes before he pulled Grace close once more and hold her tight because no, he would not be giving her up. They were stuck with each other now until forever. It didn’t scare Severus anymore that he’d have a daughter. Hell, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops he was so happy! He was honored to be Grace’s father, and how every foster parent before him failed to see that, he’d never know. But in a selfish way, he was sort of glad they did, because if they hadn’t, he would have never gotten to this point.    “I promise, I’m going to be the best daughter ever.”    He couldn’t help it; he grinned and kissed the top of her head, “Gracie, you already are.”    Both had forgotten that Luna was right there, still recording on Grace’s phone, until she sniffled and said, “Awww!”