#Also because your tags make me spin around in my office chair with joy

[madaboutmunson]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @rvllybllply2014!

Happy Birthday to the reader with the best tags in the business! I cannot thank you enough for being so supportive, and I hope you have the greatest, most marvellous, flippin' fantastic, superb birthday ever @rvllybllply2014!! I wish I had something better as an extra birthday gift, but here is a little Eddie Divider if you ever wanna use it :)

[winterscaptain]

second chances.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: some early isaac content for you on this fine sunday afternoon. sorry it's a little late! i hope you enjoy it!

words: 1.6k warnings: language

summary: “it’s a good thing babies don’t give you a lot of time to think. you fall in love with them and when you realize how much they love you back, life is very simple.” - anita diamant. au!april 2016

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Do I have to go?” Aaron asks, staring down at a sleeping Isaac in his arms. 

You tip your head to the side, watching with a small smile. “Unfortunately. Duty calls, my darling.” 

With a sigh, Aaron hands him over to you, tucking him expertly into your elbow with a kiss pressed to your cheek. He grabs his briefcase and looks over his shoulder. 

“I’ll see you in nine hours,” you remind him. “Set a timer, if you have to.” 

+++

“There’s my little man!” Aaron sets down his briefcase and trots over to you, Isaac screeching happily in your arms. 

Aaron looks at you and laughs. “Someone’s loud today.”

Jack snorts from his place on the couch, playing around on the tablet. “He’s been making noise since you pulled into the driveway.” 

You pass the baby over, and Isaac settles neatly into his father’s arms. Aaron’s tie immediately finds a home in Isaac’s mouth as they bounce around the living room. Aaron, patting his back and pressing his cheek to the side of Isaac’s head, looks beyond relieved to be home, the stress melting off his face. 

“He had a really good day today,” you tell him. 

Aaron’s not listening to you, but makes a kind of noncommittal noise of acknowledgement. You don’t mind, understanding that he’s just enjoying the view. His eyes are trained on his son, just as enamored with him as he was the first day he arrived. “Every day is a good day with you, isn’t it?”

+++

Aaron’s too quiet when you get into bed later that night, staring into nothing as you place Isaac in the bedside crib and crawl into bed.

“Hey.” You place a hand on his forearm and he almost startles. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, no, you’re fine.” 

“What’s on your mind? I know it’s something.”

With a sigh, he immediately cops to it, much to your surprise. “Yeah. I just - I can’t help but think it’s unfair. I wasn’t there when Jack was this age. I left Haley alone, and I know I’m working better hours now than I was then, but -” 

You stop him before he can spin too far out of control. “Aaron.” 

He looks at you, and you can finally see how tortured he looks. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” You turn toward him and take his face in your hands, brushing through the hair perpetually sticking up at his forehead. “C’mere.” 

He tips sideways into your lap, his head resting in the crook of your arm, his back against your chest. 

“Aaron, my love. This is different. Every kid is different.” 

A shuddering breath leaves him, and you hold him tighter. “I’m…” He starts. “I’m scared.” 

“What are you scared of?”

“Jack. He must -” 

You interrupt him with a hand to his forehead before he can voice the thought, knowing exactly where he’s going before he gets there. “He doesn’t resent you. He’s having so much fun being a big brother.” You scrape your fingernails along his scalp as you speak, hoping to soothe him into something that at least resembles relaxation. 

“And Aaron, my love, don’t forget that you can talk to him about stuff. You can ask him. Check in.” 

He nods. “Yeah.” 

“He’s a smart kid.” You huff a little laugh. “He’s a lot like you. Sometimes you gotta wiggle stuff out of him.”

You feel his body shake in a little laugh. He sniffs, and you adjust your hold as he turns around, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“You’re also super sleep-deprived.” 

He groans, quietly. “Tell me about it.” 

“You haven’t had a new baby in ten years, and you’re ten years older than last time. Thirty-six is different than forty-seven.” 

“How would you know?”

You shrug. “I’m observant. And mean to you.” 

You’re rewarded with a small smile as his eyes close. 

+++

The weekend sneaks up on you, and you find yourself almost sleeping in on a Saturday. Isaac’s snuffling wakes you up, and you roll over before he can really break into a big cry. 

“Okay, baby. Come here.” 

You stand and hold him to your chest, headed to the rocking chair in the corner. Eventually, all of this will move to the little third bedroom, where Aaron’s home office lives for the time being. 

The condo is relatively small, but it strikes the right balance between rent and distance. It’ll do for now. 

Aaron stirs. “Y’okay?”

You look down at Isaac, who’s blinking at the ceiling with eyes that threaten sleep. “Mhmm. Just fine.” 

+++

Jack works on his lego set while you kick your feet up, leaning back in the chair on the other side of Aaron’s desk with Isaac asleep on your chest. 

Every once in a while, Aaron looks up from his computer with a soft smile on his face, watching you watch Jack. 

He’s acutely aware that not many men his age, or any men at all, get second chances. He fucked it up the first time - didn’t soak in these early moments with his son, lost his wife. He won’t do that this time. 

First of all, he couldn’t. You won’t let him and the nature of his work - the thing that pulled him away in the first place - has changed. He’s home at night now, sleeps in his own bed more often than not. 

You’re the one gone, now. In an ironic twist, he’s the one sleeping in the empty bed, fixing dinners, and solving meltdowns and crises, and handling playdates, of all things. Mostly on his own. 

And he doesn’t mind it. He’ll never once blame Haley for minding it, but then again that was the difference between them. He needs someone who doesn’t need him, and Haley needed… more than that. 

Maybe it’s because he understands the work you do, can appreciate it from a distance now. Even then, he’s never anything but thrilled when he hears you sneak into the apartment, doing your best to slide into bed without making any noise. He’s ecstatic when he can catch you in the hallway, take your hand and drag you to bed. 

He always misses you when you’re gone, of course, but the joy of your return would always be worth it. 

You look up and meet his eyes, looking for all the world like you haven’t slept in days. (You haven’t.) Deciphering the look on his face has never been the hardest thing for you, but this one is curious. He’s looking at you, but it’s like he’s looking at something past you, through you. There’s something nostalgic about the crease between his brows, something affectionate in the set of his mouth. 

What? You mouth, mindful of the sleeping infant in your arms. 

He shakes his head. Nothing.

+++

tagging: @avengersbau @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygranger @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @prentisswrites @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @luciilferss @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me @itsalwaysb33nyou @finnologys @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hothothotchner @mac99martin @ssahotchner99 @vagabond-ing @rebel-flying @jhiddles03 @nuvoleincielo @rqgnarok @ssa-volturi @reidyoulikeabook @schlooper @itsmytimetoodream @bau-baby @ssagube @oreogutz @lexieshuntingsstuff @saintsmotels @hotchestie @mosiacbrokenhearstf @hsbavery @soupyamanda @ohhersheybars @marvelousmsmaggie

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 12) - Jason Todd

Gif: Dxnninja on Tenor

Word Count: 2.6K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Poor Jason has to suffer dress shopping with Y/N, Harley & Ivy. Y/N worries that she’s bothering Bruce.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterisations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget   @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36​ @acvrosstheuniverse​

_______________________________________________________________

“We’ve been in this fucking store for three hours,” Jason groaned to Y/N as they watched Harley and Ivy order the staff around. Turns out Bruce had shut the store down for the day so Y/N and Jason could have their outfits for the Gala selected without interruption. All remaining staff present signed papers not to spread the information and then were left at the mercy of Harley and Ivy.

Every dress and suit that the staff showed the women were either too dramatic (Plain white? She’s not getting married), not dramatic enough (Oh, so now she’s merely going to the Oscars?), too sparkly (what? Was Y/N a Vegas show-girl now?), too poufy (She’s not in a Disney movie, moron), not modest enough (hun, we’re all for wearing what you want, but this is a Gala, there are standards), or too modest (She’s a gorgeous young woman, not a fucking Nun). Harley and Ivy always had something to critique about the dresses, and don’t even get them started on the suits. The women had decided that Jason and Y/N must wear matching outfits, and because the dress hadn’t been picked yet, the suits were all met with an icy glare.

“Now, I’ll say this one more time for you, doll,” Harley smiled sweetly with a deathly glare in her eyes, clapping her hands and leaning into the worker’s face. He was a tall, bulging man, but cowered in fear at Harley, who was half his size and standing on a seat to make eye contact. “This ain’t any plain ole gala here, we need a show-fucking-stopper of a dress, not this cheap crap that you’re prancing around us, not the tacky shit, the best shit, the high-quality shit – you hear me?”

“Yes, Ms Quinn,” the man nodded furiously, “right away, Ms Quinn.”

“Good, now scamper and don’t come back till you got the best fucking dress for our girl, kay?”

“Yes, Ms Quinn, right away, Ms Quinn,” the man disappeared quickly.

“Now, darling, that was a little harsh, don’t you think,” Ivy scolded her partner lightly, tilting her head and pursing her lips with her arms folded as Harley climbed down from the chair, huffing and popping out her hip.

“Y/N deserves nothing but the best,” Harley said, sticking her chin up and strutting to look at shoes for Y/N.

“Give the dresses a chance,” Ivy rubbed her temples, “Y/N hasn’t even tried a single one on.”

“Yeah, Auntie Harley, they might look different on,” Y/N nodded.

“If I don’t like it, it ain’t going on your body, babes,” Harley cocked her eyebrows as she lifted one shoe up, a sleek black shoe with dagger heels.

“Good thing she likes me then,” Jason whispered into Y/N’s ear, causing her to burst into giggles and smack his chest.

“I heard that lover boy,” Harley lifted her eyes to glare at Jason.

“Am I wrong, though?” Jason flashed a classic grin at Harley, who rolled her eyes and chuckled before gliding past him to look at bags, ruffling his hair in the process. Jason frowned and tried to fix his hair quickly.

“Not completely, lover boy,” Harley said, studying a bag and showing it to Ivy, who squinted then nodded in approval, “but we can still take it all back. Remember that!”

“Yes, mam.”

_____--

Saying that the office of Bruce Wayne was grand was an understatement. Spectacular, extraordinary, antique, majestic, and so much more. It was the only room which Y/N hadn’t been in. Part of her felt as though she was intruding. She still felt a little like an imposter, really. It hadn’t even been a month, and Bruce had altered his will to say that Y/N was his main heir. Obviously, he left a little something for Alfred, who would still be employed for the Wayne Family, now that there was one. Dick Grayson had some money left for him, and a car, one which he loved as a young boy and first came to Wayne Manor. Jason, of course, also had a small inheritance lined up for him, and a position waiting at Wayne Enterprises. Selina was left something as well, but Y/N held to gain the most. CEO, a vast fortune, lord knows how many houses and cars and bottles of wine and anything else which wasn’t left to anyone else – it was all hers. When she was made public, Y/N would be one of the most envious people on the planet, part of the 1%. It was terrifying, to say the least. She was going to go from someone the world didn’t give two shits about, a daughter of a single mother who had a criminal record, to someone who would have people sharing everything about her to the world, the daughter of Bruce Wayne, future CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Bruce adored her. He looked at her with pride and joy. She was already the apple of his eye. When Bruce asked if Y/N wanted to see his office, she agreed. It was strange being in a room that was going to be hers one day, one which was her father’s, and her grandfather’s, and great-grandfathers.

“So… Dad…” Y/N said as she walked around the room, looking at everything. There were bookshelves which stretched up to the ceiling, all filled with leather-bound books. “What kinda work do you do in here?”

“Go over statistics, read reports, things like that,” Bruce explained, “we’ll go into more and more detail about this later. Right now, I just wanted to show you it. You don’t have to stress about the CEO stuff yet, I’ll talk you through everything and show you the ropes.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“It’s not a problem, my dear,” Bruce stroked his daughter’s hair. “So, wanna see the Batcave?”

“Hell yes, Dad!”

Bruce chuckled and grabbed a book off of the self and opening it to reveal it was hollow inside with a small remote. Grabbing the remote out, he moved Y/N to face the empty fireplace. There was a mischievous smile on the older man’s face and a twinkle in his eye as he pointed it and pressed the button. The fireplace pulled back inside itself, and a secret hole underneath it was revealed. Y/N stared and walked forward to see the descending staircase.

“Down we go!” Bruce said behind Y/N.

___-

“And this is where Alfred oversees everything when Jason and I are in the field,” Bruce showed Y/N the computer set-up. There were seven monitors in a mixture of on a desk and mounted on the wall, and three keyboards, but one mouse. All the screens as the Bat Symbol on the screen, slowly spinning around.

“This is a cool set-up, Dad” Y/N let out a low impressed whistle. “The most advanced thing I’ve got is my night-vision goggles.”

“Well, we can give you an upgrade if you want,” Bruce offered, appearing a little sheepish, wondering if he had crossed a line. Bruce was trying so hard to find the balance between fun and protective, worrying about being either too careless or too overbearing. Selina seemed to have it down perfectly, but she had 19 years to learn, Bruce had about 19 days as a father. It wasn’t something you could pick up in a YouTube video. Bruce had to learn it himself. He gave Alfred a lot of credit now as he realised the sudden lurch in the man’s life to care for another living creature, protect and love them. Bruce had no idea how Alfred managed.

“I’d love that, Dad,” Y/N turned to Bruce with a grin on her face, thrilled at the suggestion.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Bruce asked curiously, “calling me ‘Dad’?”

“Oh,” Y/N blushed and looked down as her face fell, “sorry, does it bother you? It’s just… I’ve spent near-on twenty years never being able to call someone ‘Dad’, and now I have you here… I guess… I just want to make up for lost time,” she confessed, “If it bothers you, I’ll stop.”

“No, no,” Bruce shook his head as he met Y/N’s eyes. “I like it,” he said, “it feels… right… hearing you say ‘Dad’. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad… Dad,” Y/N smiled as she hugged her father. “It’s nice to be able to say it finally.”

“It’s nice to hear it,” Bruce whispered into her hair before pressing a fatherly kiss on her forehead. “You’re a remarkable young woman, and I’m so proud to say you are my daughter.”

“I love you, Dad,” Y/N said quietly.

“I love you too, my dear,” Bruce assured her before wrapping her into his arms.

_--

Selina painted Y/N’s toenails while Y/N painted her own fingers. They had both decided on painting them a glittery red colour. As Selina slowly moved the brush over her nails, Y/N wiggled her toes with a giggle, earning a stern look from her mother.

“We don’t want these messed up now, do we, Kitten?” Selina tutted, but smiling afterwards with a small chuckle.

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Y/N laughed, “we should do your nails afterwards,” she said, “I’ve got a lovely shimmery black that would go amazing with your dress!”

“Not tonight though, kitten, we need to let your nails dry before even thinking about mine.”

“Fine,” Y/N nodded, “what about jewellery?” she asked, “what jewellery are you wearing?”

“Nothing dramatic,” Selina said, “gold chain necklace, earrings and maybe a bracelet. I just want it to be subtle, yet elegant.”

Y/N smiled. Subtle, yet elegant – that was Selina Kyle through and though. She never needed to wear giant jewellery or puffed up dresses to catch the attention of an entire room, no, all Selina had to do was smile faintly and hold her head up high, that was all it took for heads to turn and face Selina. She was enchanting, breath-taking, ethereal – Selina Kyle could rival Aphrodite herself as most beautiful. She was beautiful inside and out. She loved and cared about people. She was a good mother, a tender heart, regardless of criminal activities. Selina Kyle was a good person, and that was rare, not just in Gotham, but in the world.

“You’ll be the most beautiful person in attendance, Mama.”

“Thank you, Kitten,” Selina stroked Y/N’s hair, “that’s very kind of you. You will look marvellous as well, Baby, I’ve seen your dress. It’s breath-taking, like you.”

“What are you girls chatting about?” Jason asked leaning in the doorway with a cheeky grin, his eyes entirely on Y/N.

“The gala,” Selina said as she finished up Y/N’s nails and closed up the nail polish, putting it away, “our dresses and stuff like that.”

“Yeah, Y/N is going to look stunning,” Jason grinned.

“How’d you know?” Y/N chuckled as she blew on her nails. “Auntie Harley and Auntie Ivy won’t let you see my dress.”

“It’s like you’re getting married,” Selina teased, causing both Jason and Y/N to blush and look at each other.

“I know because you’re stunning even now,” Jason said. Y/N scoffed. Right now? Well, she was in giant sweatpants, with an equally large shirt that was old and worn out, even a few holes were visible. Her hair was soaking wet, and she had no make-up, showing the acne scars and blackheads on her skin. Y/N couldn’t help but feel insecure. Selina assured her that they could get the scars to fade with the right serum, which they had already found, in fact, they were less prominent than they were a few months ago. With a charcoal peel-off mask, the blackheads would lessen too, but Selina always told her daughter that she was a beautiful young woman, and she was, Y/N was aware of her looks. She was like her mother, but she was still only human, and even the most beautiful humans were insecure. “I mean it,” Jason told Y/N when seeing her facial expression, “you’re stunning.”

“He’s right,” Selina sang as she walked out the room, brushing by Jason, “remember, door open.”

“Yes, mum,” Y/N sighed as Selina waved and disappeared down the hallway.

“She really thinks we’d do that with them in the house?” Jason cocked an eyebrow.

“Considering that you make an innuendo in front of my aunties when we were dress shopping, I can’t blame her.”

“SHE KNOWS ABOUT THAT!?”

“The Sirens are like sisters, Tweety Bird, they tell each other everything.”

“Oh, God…”

“Just be glad she didn’t tell my father,” Y/N laughed at Jason’s already pale expression, which worsened at the thought of Bruce knowing what he said about being on Y/N’s body.

“He doesn’t know, right?”

“The Sirens aren’t stupid, Jace, they know that Bruce would lock me in a tower, Rapunzel-Style, if they told him that.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Jason groaned as he collapsed on Y/N’s bed, right by her feet.

“Hey, don’t ruin my nails with your floppy body!”

“Floppy?” Jason lifted his head, “I ain’t floppy, Kitty Cat, I’m a fucking Greek statue! Perfectly chiselled.”

“Well, there is one small unflattering thing about Greek statues, Jason…”

“You and I both know nothing about me is small,” Jason said, leaning over and kissing Y/N, cupping her face. Y//N leaned into the kiss, eyes closed and carefully placed her hand on his wrist, trying not to ruin her nails. Jason, through the kiss, knew this and chucking against her lips.

“Don’t make me get the spray bottle,” came a voice from the door, causing Jason and Y/N to pull apart quickly to see Ivy and Harley standing there, narrowing their eyes at Jason. Harley made an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture while Ivy folded her arms, tutting and shaking her head, “fucking bunny-rabbits you are.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking after Bud and Lou?” Y/N sighed as she shifted back from Jason.

“They’re at the groomers,” Harley shrugged.

“What groomer handles Hyenas?!” Jason frowned.

“One who has very high rates, trust me,” Ivy rolled her eyes and huffed.

“They look so cute,” Harley clapped her hands wildly, “they come out with matching bows, and they get given a little goodie bag.”

“We’re going to go pick them up now, so behave you two,” Ivy warned, pointing a sharp finger at them before she and Harley disappeared from sight.

“Well, that was embarrassing…”

“They’re gone now though,” Jason grinned.

“No chance are we picking up where we left off,” Y/N scolded, “anyway, Mum and Dad gave us rules, and we need to stick to them.”

“Fine, fine,” Jason chuckled as he stood up and pulled a small box from his pocket. “I’ll do what I originally came here to do then.”

“If you get down on one knee, Jason Todd, I might just faint.”

“Not yet, Kitty Cat, but one day,” he winked as he opened the box and handed it to Y/N. He presented to her the contents inside the box. A pair of earrings. They were silver, it seemed, and hanging off of the silver, like a precious mermaid tear, was matching white pearls that glistened in the light of her room.

“Oh, Jason, you didn’t,” Y/N gasped as she carefully took the box from his hands and looked at the pearl earrings. She looked from the earrings to Jason and then back to the earrings before looking at Jason again.

“I wanted to get you something for the Gala, and since I’m not allowed to see your dress yet, I’d go for something classic and beautiful, like you,” Jason said gently, stroking her wrist, so not to ruin her nails which her still drying.

“Jason…”

“No, don’t, I know what you’re going to say that it’s too much, but it isn’t, it really isn’t.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N smiled.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Thank you, Tweety Bird,” Y/N kissed Jason’s cheek, “I love them. They’ll look really good with my dress.”

“And they’ll look gorgeous on you, Kitty Cat.”

“God, you’re such a charmer aren’t you,” she teased.

“Well, when I’ve got such a beautiful girl here, how can I resist?”

[billhaderlovebot]

i love you - aaron conners drabble

summary: you're in love with him, but you've been hurt before. every base instinct is screaming at you to get the hell out of dodge, but you can't bear to push him away.

tags: @a-second-hand-sorrow @gazebros

a/n: this is more of a drabble than anything because i couldn't be arsed to fully flesh it out and make it better but i wanted to wire for aaron yk. mm. so enjoy, anyway.

---

whatever strange cafe-bar aaron had dragged you into to have this talk was nearing closing time, and the oddly shaped paper lamps hanging from the ceiling were the only source of light. you resented him for how good he looked under the pale yellow glow. 

"you have to promise me that you're not in love with me." you sniffed, pointedly avoiding his gaze. 

you swirled your paper straw around absently in your long since abandoned gin and tonic, and aaron tried not to focus on your lips and how soft they looked as they closed around it every once in a while, pretending to be interested in the contents of the glass. 

"i can't." said aaron. and for the first time since you'd sat in the booth, you met his eyes. 

"you have to." it was barely more than a whisper, your throat not willing the words any louder. "you have to, or i can't-" 

"i know what he did to you." said aaron, drumming his fingers lightly on the table the same way you swirled your straw around. looking for something, anything to focus on, that wasn't this. 

"then you know why i can't let you-" 

"please." the despondent plea that fell from his lips shouldn't have cut you as deep as it did. but here you were, your chest constricting as his watery blue eyes bored into your own. "just, please, let me love you." 

"i can't, aaron." 

the first time aaron had confessed, it was hushed whisper in his car as you were speeding down the highway at night, the city lights faded to small white pinpricks dotting the curtain of black draped across the sky. you remembered distinctly the warm night air on your face and everybody wants to rule the world filtering from his car radio. aaron hadn't thought you had heard him until you started to cry. 

"take it back. please. don't say that."

"why?" 

"because i can't see you anymore if you do." 

---

he showed up the day after the cafe-bar encounter at your place of work, shuffling into the office in one of his infuriatingly cute polo shirts, coffee in hand, soft smile on his face. 

"i've thought a lot about what you said, and, while repairing a kneecap today, i reached some conclusions." aaron placed the coffee on your desk next to the ever growing pile of classic literature you had. the cover of the great gatsby faced up at him, and he remembered fondly the night, not too long ago, when you had called him up, practically vibrating with praise for this book and the wonders it presented to you. he bought his own copy the very next day. he hadn't liked it so much, but he wouldn't tell you that. 

"and what conclusions would they have been?" you smirked, closing your google search for "do penguins have knees" before he could see it. 

aaron cleared his throat. 

"number one, we really like each other." 

"no." you shook your head. 

"you weren't saying that last weekend when i was going down on you in that starbucks bathroom." he quipped, settling into the spinny chair opposite you, his eyebrows shooting up a fraction. 

"dr conners, do i have to ask you to leav-" 

"number two! you're scared of being hurt again." 

"was me leaving your ass in that bar not evidence enough of that?" you sighed, sipping the coffee he had brought despite yourself. 

"number three." 

"there's more?" you groaned. 

"number three! all you do is smoke weed and ignore people who like you. which i think is a shitty way to deal with your trauma, if you don't mind my saying so." aaron rolled the spinning chair right up to your desk, stopping inches away from your face. 

"i do, actually." you said. 

"also, i love you. but, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." 

"we'll burn that bridge when we get to it, aaron." 

---

you slept with aaron again that night. he was falling for you, and you couldn't bear to push him away. 

to say that you didn't love him back would be a lie. blasphemous, almost, but you wouldn't admit it. 

as much as you reveled in the warmth of his body pressed up against yours, your back against his chest and your legs tangled together, as much as you wanted to kiss the socks off him, as much as you loved him back, you would not admit it. 

"why do you let me do this to you?" you asked, toying with the seam of his sheets and allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist. "doesn't it hurt?" 

"i can't be close to you any other way." he confessed, pressing his lips against your bare shoulder. "i take what i can get. i know what it's like to be broken by someone." his breath fanned over your cheek. you turned to face him. "and i know what it's like... when you don't feel like you'll ever be able to trust anyone again. you need to break out of it, for your own happiness."

your eyes were trained on the way his lips moved around the words, and the sharp curve of his jaw, and the way his hair fell perfectly even though he hadn't done anything to it. oh, for the love of all things holy, you loved him. 

so you relented. "look, if i give this a go, like, a real, honest shot--" 

"wait, are you saying--" his eyes lit up, suddenly alert. 

"will you please just be patient with me--" 

"holy shit, you're really--" he broke out into a sparkling grin, and you found that allowing yourself something you'd wanted ever since you'd met wasn't so hard after all. 

"because i need to heal, yknow--" 

"can i kiss you?" he breathed. aaron was near vibrating with joy at a frequency that could shatter every window in his penthouse apartment. "not to invalidate your outpouring of truth, here, but i just... really wanna kiss you." 

"aaron, you had your head between my legs not ten minutes ago, i don't think you have to ask." 

---

being aaron's girlfriend wasn't that much of an adjustment. it was the same as you'd been doing for months now. aaron, however, relished in the fact that he was able to present you to the world as his, and tell you he loved you every hour of the day, eagerly awaiting the moment you would say it back. 

until then, your various creative responses never failed to keep him on his toes. his favourites so far were: "oh, worm?" and "bet." 

despite all the doubts you had about committing to someone again after him, it was so natural. it was automatic. he moved, you moved. like an invisible force coordinating your actions. it was so blissfully easy to be with him and you found yourself wondering often why it took you so long. 

"do you still think about him?" aaron asked one night, while you were curled up together in his bed, just about to drift off. "is this still hard for you?" 

"it actually surprises me every day how easy it is." you admitted, yawning and tracing your fingertips across his bare chest. "because you're nothing like him, and i feel safe with you." aaron's heart swelled in his chest at that. 

"i won't let anyone hurt you again." he whispered, his words burrowing deep into your chest and fixing themselves there, next to your heart. 

"i love you." the admittance rolled off your tongue so easily that it seemed silly that you'd ever held it back from him. 

aaron audibly gasped. "holy shit-" 

"goodnight, bitch."

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

@intiate03 asks: Hey could u write a ff on tony visiting peter at MIT with morgan bcz he was missing him . And them meeting one of tony teachers or someone who tony knew form his time in MIT

requests are now closed

A/N: another first for me! thanks a lot for your request sweetie🌸 I’m no really familiar with the X-Men universe but I tried making a parallel between the two universes like they did in one of the comics. It’s a short short blurb so I hope you will like it✨

‘Good to see you again’ - Iron Dad & Spidey Son

Warning: cuteness infinite level, and NO ENDGAME in this house!!

masterlist

Finally some free time. 

Tony sighs while turning in office chair when he hears the sound of steps echoing in the lab, coming to his direction. As he turns to see who it could be - even if he definitely knows already -, the little body of his daughter jumps right into him making both of them spin in the chair, laughing.

“Well well well, look who’s there!”

The little girl giggles in her father’s arms. “Daddy you done with work? Can we go now? Pleaaaaaase?”

Tony stops the chair with his feet and after waiting a few seconds, he stands still holding Morgan in his arms.

“Yes, sweetie. We can finally go. But first, we need to tell mum we’re going out. Can you go tell her while daddy close the lab?”

“Yes!! We’re finally seeing Peter!!”

Morgan jumps out of Tony’s grasp and runs outside the lab to her mum, Pepper, who was somewhere in the house doing her own business. Tony signs again, now pleased. He promised his daughter a few weeks ago that he will find some time to go visit Peter together, because the boy was getting busy with his lessons at MIT so they saw him less recently. And the little girl missed him a lot. And little did she knows that her father also couldn’t wait to see Spidey boy again.

Meanwhile, Peter finishes his first lesson of the afternoon. Having a few hours’ break before the next one, he thinks about reviewing some of his notes outside the campus. While sitting on a bench of the MIT garden, he soon hears in the distance someone calling his name, awakening his spider senses. And as he turns his head toward the voice, he couldn’t help but stands to be soon almost tackled to the ground by Morgan.

“Peter!! Hi!!” the girl screams in joy in his face.

Peter chuckles and wraps his arms around Morgan, spinning her in the air, a big smile now on his face. 

“Morgan!! Oh my God, I’m so happy to see you, little one!!”

They both keep giggling, happy to meet again after so long. And then, Peter starts hearing some shocked whispers around him and wonders what was happening.

“Dad! I found him!!”

“You sure did, sweetie.”

None other than the famous Anthony Stark aka Iron Man walks toward both of them, hidden behind his signature sunglasses, emanating power and class from him. Obviously people would start freaking out. And Peter feels even happier. He delicately puts Morgan back on her feet and taking her tiny hands in his, he (proudly) waits for Tony to stop in front of him.

“Hey, how are you doing, son?”

Son. This is the nickname Tony likes using to call Peter. He would never admit it out loud to the world but this boy, no, young man standing while looking at him in awe is like his own son. And for sure Morgan sees him as her big brother.

“I’m doing more than great, Mr. Start” replies Peter, still smiling.

Tony smiles back and ruffles the boy’s curly hair with his hand, before giving him a warm embrace.

“Good to see you again, son.”

“Good to see you again, Mr. Stark.”

“Well good to see you too, Tony.”

The new voice calling out to Tony makes him break his embrace with Peter, Morgan hiding behind both men as they all see the person moves to them. And Tony couldn’t help but smirk.

“What can I say? Who doesn’t like seeing the most talented and handsome Iron Man?” 

��As cocky as ever, Stark. You would never change.”

Peter recognises the voice as soon as he heard it. Because here now stands Professor Charles Xavier, one of Peter’s teachers at MIT. Of course he knows who he is. He is one of the most strict and intelligent professor of all the US, and nobody wants to mess with them. Peter has some classes with him and he can say he admires the man in the wheelchair. 

“So, you and Mr. Parker know each other?” professor Xavier says, his gaze going from the man in his forties and his friendly student. “Why am I not even surprised.”

“Well, the kid here is sure a nerd but that brain of his is one of a kind. A bit awkward but still smart. Everything I look for in an intern at Stark’s Industry.”

“After knowing you for quite a long time, I sense when you have something in mind, Tony.”

Peter closely looks at both men exchanging words, Morgan still gripping at his jumper. He conforts her by caressing her head.

“You, er, you both know each other?” tempts asking Peter.

“You see, kid, professor Xavier and I work together sometimes-”

“But Mr. Stark here clearly is avoiding me for, what, eight months now? Tony you can’t run away forever when we have to talk about Illumi-”

“I know I knoooooooow” interrupts Tony, exasperates. “But I’ve been super busy with the Avengers and my business - you know I’m a real business man, also family stuff and blah blah blah.”

Peter and Morgan try to hide their giggles while watching Tony being... well, Tony.

“Also”

Tony puts one arm around Peter’s shoulders and brings him against him again, Morgan following closely.

“I’m in the middle of a happy family reunion right here so if you would excuse us!”

The three of them start walking toward the street, leaving the professor by himself. 

“Don’t be a Stark and call me, Tony. You know why!” shouts professor Xavier at them.

“Yeah yeah, I’ve still got your number somewhere. I think? Bye, X!” Tony begins whistle.

“Er- b-bye professor Xavier!” Peter manages to say.

Professor Xavier lets out a sigh, looking at them walking toward some shops in the street nearby. Then he decides to go back inside the building, making his way between the students.

“At least, he got the family he ever wanted.”

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[sarcastic-sunshines]

Letters for my Love - Chapter 2

A/N: So it appears I don’t know how to do a one shot lol. But that’s okay, because I have a vision for this story and I am excited to share it with you all as it unravels. I appreciated all your reactions to the first part and tried to tag as many of you as I could remember who liked it. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I did writing it.

Warning: It pulls at your heartstrings a bit’

Pairing: T’Challa x Black Reader

Chapter 1

________________________________________________________________

My Love,

Yesterday was Nobomi’s  fourth birthday. To think out little girl is growing so fast. It also marks 4 years since I lost you, the time has gone fast yet I still miss you like it is the first day. Though things have changed since then, especially considering I spent the end of our daughter’s first birthday in tears.

Yesterday I was almost brought to tears again when I thought about how my baby is no longer a baby. She is a talkative, inquisitive, beautiful child. Her face hasn’t changed since the day you brought her into this world. Her eyes still hold your glow, and each time it steals my heart.

It is hard to think she will be starting school in a week.  She is so excited, meanwhile I haven’t felt this nervous since the day I proposed to you. She is not going to need me as much anymore and I am not sure how to feel about that. Since the day she was born, everyday has been consumed in making sure she is happy and loved. If she is spending most of her day at school what am I supposed to do with my day now.

Its moments like this that I miss you most. I still imagine the shared nervousness we would have had leading up to this milestone. I often think about all the moments I wished I had been able to hold your hand through. It makes me think of all the love we shared for each other, the love I held so strongly for you and accepting I will never experience that again.

I do not have too much time to dwell on the ifs and maybes of life. I have a little girl who needs help picking out a backpack for her first day. I am quite excited to be apart of this process.

Yours Forever,

T’Challa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Challa sat on his office chair with a smile as he watched the newest four year old in town model different backpacks, hoping to pick the best one for her first day at school. He sat completely shocked by his child as she did  spins to give him the full experience.

“Okay Baba which one do you like better?” He made a face making it seem as though he was deep in thought making the little girl giggle.

“I think the one with the blue rhino is the better choice Nono. It seems to be the perfect size for you and I think it will hold all your books.” She stared back before picking up a completely different napsack from the one T’Challa recommended.

“I like this one better Baba.” T’Challa chuckled. Just like her mother, he thought.

“Well was I any help to be you”

“Yes! You were the audience in my fashion parade” He let out a boisterous laugh while Nobomi crawled into his lap giving him a big hug and a kiss.

“Baba are you gonna be the one to take me to school on Monday?”

“Of course Nobomi wam. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You are growing so big you know.” he said smoothing out the two big puffs on her head.

“I know Baba, Auntie Shuri says I will be so grown up soon, I will able to go on trips all by myself like you” The thought scared T’Challa. He was barely coping with her being 15 minutes away for 6 hours of the day, let alone think about her being halfway across the world for Bast knows how long.

“Why don’t we focus on school first?” She nodded absentmindedly as she searched for games on her Baba’s kimoyo beads. There was a knock on the door drawing T’Challa’s attention away from Nobomi. The door opened and the mining elder strolled in.

“Hello Kumkani, I was hoping to have a few words with you?”

“Of course.” He placed Nobomi on the ground leading her to the door. “Nono, why don’t you go find your Auntie Shuri and I will come get you in a little while for dinner”

“Okay, but only if we can have french fries”

“That’s fine, I will see you soon okay” The little girl nodded giving him a hug goodbye before her Dora led her to Shuri’s lab. T’Challa smiled closing the door. The mining elder smiled too.

“She is growing so quickly, to think I remember blessing her during the naming ceremony” T’Challa smiled at the memory while picking up the backpacks that had been abandoned for Nobomi’s preferred option.

“I know, now she is starting school and making demands, I am sure she has me fully wrapped around her finger.” He took his seat waiting for the elderly woman to begin discussing what she came here for. “How can I be of service to you”

“I actually came to discuss you kumkani”

“What about exactly?”

“My King, I and some other members on the counsel think it is advisable for you to take another Queen.” She said slowly gauging his reaction, which was complete shock.

“Why is that any of your business? Or anyone on the counsel? I have an heir and my mother is Queen regent so I do not see-”

“My King, if you will allow me, this is why I was asked to approach you privately. It is more than just an heir. Your mother is aging and is not as active as she once was. When your wife was here she was able to handle Queenly duties. Since her passing, those duties have not been getting done as quickly as they should be. Which is understandable, considering you are already wearing yourself quite thin my King”

“I am not complaining am I” the King retorted.

“No, but your efficiency is evidence you need help. The princess is starting school soon, and I know you have discussed going on less missions to be able to be with her since she cannot travel with you anymore. But that is not a responsible decision for a King, especially as a nation that is still forming its placement in the international community. If you had a Queen you would not have to divide yourself so much.”

“I can send representatives, many countries do so.” T’Challa felt cornered. How long had his counsel felt he had been doing an inadequate job. He was trying to make sure Nobomi was able to have him as the parent she deserved as well as being a good King. Now he feared he may be struggling at both.

“My King, there is one more thing” T’Challa was more than ready for this conversation to be over. He waited for her to continue with less enthusiasm than he once had.

“This is more of a personal check on you if anything. You have not been yourself since your wife passed. And of course we can never expect for you to return to your old self, but your only joy has been your daughter and now that she is going to school, we have noticed your mood has dimmed again. Perhaps if you had someone you could share these emotions with-”

“I have a wife”

“Had. And it may be time for you to start moving on. That child needs a mother figure and you the companionship.” T’Challa was seething. Was she implying he wasn’t enough of a parent for Nobomi? Moreover, how did they expect him to be able to love another even one quarter of the way he loved his wife. How could he give his heart to another when it died with his morning glory.

“I would like you to leave. “

“My King I didn't mean to offend you” T’Challa’s stare was cold and empty of emotion.

“This discussion is over. Thank you, and you can let the other council members know they will be hearing from me about their, suggestion” He declared.

He waited for the door to close behind the mining elders before leaning back and letting this new stress overtake his body. How dare she? How dare they? Could they not see how hard he was trying. How everyday he prayed to Bast for the tranquility of mind so he could continue to do his job. To be here for Nobomi. He wasn’t sure how much more of himself he could give. He wasn’t even sure if he had anymore to give.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Challa slowly moved the little girl off my his body before leaving her bed quietly for the night. He closed the door softly before rejoining Shuri on the couch. His body melted into the couch and he closed his eyes, the stress of the day was still lingering.

“Are you okay brother? Or did Nono ask for sixteen different bedtime stories again” he let out a little chuckle.

“No she is not the reason for my strife. She never is really”

“You say that now until she starts telling you she is going to parties and dating” T’Challa groaned making his sister laugh. “Alright then, what is the issue here”

“I got a visit today from one of the council elders. She was speaking on behalf of the whole council though”

“What about?”

“Apparently, the council would like me to take a new Queen. Mama is getting older and is not as good at the job as she once was. They think it will also help me not feel as though I am doing too much all while giving Nobomi a mother figure.”

“Okay, so what is the issue”

“I don’t need a Queen” T’Challa said slowly.

“You don’t need one, or you don’t want one. Because those are two vastly different things” T’Challa scowled at his younger sister.

“Both, I have been managing fine on my own and there isn’t anything a woman can offer me in my life right now”

“Managing, yes, but not as efficiently as you once were. Also is there nothing a woman can offer you or perhaps nothing another woman can offer you that you haven’t  already received from -”

“Shuri stop.” T’Challa felt his anxiety rising. He didn’t like talking about her so openly. Let alone the thought of replacing her.

“And that right there is the problem, you never want to talk about her, so I am not sure how you expect to heal. Mama and the council may be right” T’Challa turned, taking in Shuri’s words. Was his mother behind this as well.

“Wait, Mama thinks the same thing?” Shuri felt like she had already over shared but her brother’s menacing look let her know she wouldn’t be able to leave without filling in all the holes in the story.

“Well Mama is part of the council so, she definitely gave her opinion. She thinks that you having  a girlfriend of some sorts would be good for you. But first she thinks you need to see a therapist because she is tired of seeing you sad.”

“I am not sad.”

“She also she says you can’t spend all your free time with Nono because that will never mend your heart, and you are spoiling her.” T’Challa was annoyed.

“I guess everyone in this palace has something to say about my parenting, ruling, or love life. It seems all three is the preferred option”

“Brother, I know it hurts but they are not wrong. Mama especially, you have been with Nono since the first day. You fired her nanny when she was only six months old and haven’t been away from her since. You take her on every trip you have and are planning to stop going so you don’t have to be away from her.”

“I am only trying to be a good father” he said exhaustingly

“And that is fine, but you are crippling her and yourself at the same time. Nono can’t go to sleep unless you hold her and ever since her first day at school has gotten closer you have become more of a downer”

“And what is that supposed to mean”

“It means, maybe a little space between the two of you is healthy. She definitely needs the independence and you the chance to find your footing outside of being a father”

“What if I am not ready to reopen that part of my life? What if I am never ready?” He finally said it. It had been boiling in his chest for four years. And although he was being forced to analyse this part of his life, it was something that had to happen.

“Well, you don’t have to announce yourself as the most available bachelor in Birnin Zana. But, it also means you can be more open to the idea.”

“Perhaps” T’Challa said quietly. He turned his head to the television, putting the movie in play.

“Perhaps is a good place to start” Shuri said filling her mouth with popcorn. T’Challa smiled at his younger sister, always amazed at the wisdom she held.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Children ran all around T’Challa and Nobomi. Some were excited for their first day, while the tears of others made it very clear they didn’t want to be anywhere near the school. Nobomi held on to her father’s leg looking around at all the new faces. She was always one to take in her surroundings before joining in. She hadn’t seemed nervous this morning and he still didn’t think she was. He hoped not, because if she cried he wasn’t sure how he would react.

The headmistress rang the first warning bell, which was followed by the kindergarten teachers coming out and waiting for their new classes. T’challa knelt down in front of Nobomi. He smoothed down the two big puffs before making sure her uniform looked okay. He held his hand to her cheek trying to hold his himself together. He didn’t want her to think she couldn’t go and discover new parts of the world by herself.

“Okay Nobomi wam, it is time for you to go into the school now. You are going to have a good time and learn so many new things. Which I can’t wait to hear about later when I pick you up.” he said with a kiss to her hand.

“You promise you will come back for me?”

“I promise with all my heart”  he said rubbing their noses together making her giggle. He would only be picking her up today though. He had gotten a new nanny to pick her up and watch her so he could get more done and feel comfortable going on missions. When he had told her, she cried and it nearly broke him. But after meeting Miss Adanna, Nobomi barely noticed him leave the room.

The second bell rang and T’Challa noticed only one more class was still waiting. He was sure it was Nobomi’s. “Okay Nono, your class is waiting for you. Have fun okay.”

The little girl gave him a big hug and a kiss making him smile. “I love you Baba”

“I love you more” and with that she ran to join the line. He noticed she immediately made friends with another little girl. They held hands as they walking to the building. Nobomi turned once more to wave goodbye to her Baba. T’Challa waved goodbye before catching a singular tear that had fallen.

“Are you okay Kumkani” Okoye asked

“No, but I will be” He said turning to go back to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Love,

To say watching our daughter walk into that school was easy would be a huge lie. It took everything in me to watch her go off and create memories without me. But it had to be done and I am so proud of her.

I know you were watching over her as she navigated this new milestone. A milestone that she is enjoying if I may add. She has even made a new friend. Every story begins with ‘Fatou and me’. She really is a character. Just like you were. Everyday I see more of you in her. And it is for that reason I have to let her be independent. To let her create her own path, just as you would have wanted.

It is going to be hard for me to create a life outside of Nobomi, but I know it is the right thing to do. I am not sure if that will ever include me dating again, and I am not sure if I am ready to find out. My heart  is still so tethered to yours it is hard to tell if it will ever happen.

What I am sure of though is that you wouldn’t have wanted for me to let life pass me by. You always lived everyday to the fullest and I intend to do just that. I have been blessed to be able to love and to have been loved and for that reason I will make sure to thank the ancestors by smiling everyday. It has been hard to do so without you but I know your love continues to guide me and I refuse to let it go wasted.

Yours Forever,

T’Challa

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 58 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 2,594

Aside from the one confrontation post-petticoat ukulele conspiracy, Logan still hasn’t talked with Cadmium. Really, truly talked to the guy. Tagging along on his tours doesn’t count. Granted, a fair amount of his Tuesdays and Thursdays are occupied with thoughts of Cadmium, but Logan does still have a life outside of him. It comes with no small amount of annoyance that this other life involves dealing with unsolvable problems at his internship.

“I heard there’s no real answer,” Cassidy says. She stabs her pen in the air, writing imaginary equations and scowling at the empty space.

“I heard they had this problem, like, years ago,” Joy says. Logan steeples his fingers under his chin with his elbows propped on his knees, watching Joy spin circles on her chair with her nose pointed at the ceiling. “I bet they already know the answer, and any intern that can’t crack it gets kicked to the curb.”

“Somehow, I feel like excessive alliteration isn’t the answer, Joy,” Micah calls from the water jug. His perspective might seem more valuable if his cheek weren’t flattened against the top of the machine in an utterly pitiful display of boredom.

“Oh, and I bet you already figured it out, huh, smart guy?” Joy’s retort also seems less valuable, as it comes at the same moment that she smacks her ankle into the leg of her desk, her spinning cut short. Logan is getting the sinking feeling that he chose the wrong scientific field.

“Maybe we’re looking at it from the wrong angle. Does someone want to read it again, and we all think of it with clean slates?” Logan glances around the room, hoping that his non-contribution will be sufficient. “Or, hey, Alex, have you got an idea? You haven’t said too much yet.”

Alex’s shock of dyed yellow hair jolts as they lift their eyes to peer over the top of the computer. “Can I get you a handkerchief, or did you dodge the splashback when you threw me under the bus just now?”

“ I’ll read it, you bunch of babies,” Cassidy sighs. “Okay. Riddle me this, folks. Thought experiments for the modern era.”

“Lay off the Mcelroy references and finish the question,” Micah grumbles.

Cassidy wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue before continuing. “The ship of Theseus proposes that a ship leaves a location and has every single part of itself periodically replaced before reaching a second location. The question is whether the ship to arrive is a different ship than the one to depart. Bear this in mind while assuming all cultural divides and disparities—cultural, political, scientific, or otherwise—are held in an impenetrable stasis that has no effect on the contents of the riddle, and conclusively solve the following. Jeez, talk about a run-on sentence.

“NASA launches a rocket to Neptune, and the only passenger is the child of a Russian and an American, where the parents were born on Earth and the child on Mars. The inhabited rocket was built half of parts from NASA and half of parts from Roscosmos. It contains enough parts to make an entirely new rocket, all of which were created on the moon. Allowing adequate suspensions of disbelief in favor of the passenger’s ability to build the new rocket and touch down on Neptune alive, which flag should be placed on Neptune as the first to arrive: That of Mars, the Moon, Earth, America, or Russia?”

“Does the moon even have its own flag?” Micah muses.

Joy slams the side of her fist on her desk hard enough to rattle the pens scattered across the floor. “This is such a stupid question. It barely even has anything to do with space!”

“It is about non-mathematical rocket science,” Alex points out.

“You could take the exact same problem and change a few key words to make it about a fish being flushed down a toilet,” Logan counters, “and nothing would change.”

“Is the fish dead?” Micah asks. “Because now you’re introducing aquatic zombies to the equation.”

“No aquatic zombies!” Joy and Alex shout in unison. Logan joins in the cry with a muttered mimic of his own, and even Cassidy looks quite done with Micah, who traces his finger along the side of the water tank before patting the top.

“Aquatic zombies,” he whispers forlornly. Logan isn’t entirely sure how Micah managed to weasel his way into an internship here, but he stopped questioning it a long time ago.

“It’s the moon, isn’t it?” Cassidy tries. This brings about a chaotic storm of argued disagreements through which Logan couldn’t possibly begin to sort.

“But the passenger was born on Mars, so it’s the Martian flag.”

“But their parents were of Earth, do we know where the passenger was conceived? Earthling parents mean it can’t be Mars’ flag.”

“Oh, like the Opportunity rover would plant a flag on Neptune.”

“Rip in pieces, Oppy.”

“Well, wouldn’t it be the country of origin of the mom, since she’s the one that had to carry the passenger to term?”

“That’s sexist, and we don’t know which parent is which.”

“It’s heretonormative, anyway.”

“You mean cisnormative.”

“I know what I meant to mean.”

“Unless you meant both. Trans father for the win.”

“Trans father, transformer, illuminati?”

“Does Earth even have a flag?”

“Where was the passenger raised? That might change the answer.”

The door opposite the stairs slams open as another intern with dirty blond hair and a beanie stumbles in looking particularly disheveled—well, more so than usual, at least.

“The passenger opened a wormhole immediately after being born, and raised themself on Neptune,” Logan deadpans. “Roman, if you haven’t got any good news, I swear to—”

“They cancelled the level eight project,” the man at the door says. Were it not for the bright gold name embroidered along the breast pocket of his shirt—Roman—Logan might believe him to be a random guy from off the street. “They figured out the missing sections—without our input, obviously—and decided the clearance rate was excessive. Basically, they said a toddler with a functioning search engine could crack it, so we should stop wasting our time.”

“Has the toddler ever been to Neptune?” Logan asks dryly. A hollow chorus of laughs ricochets around the room, quieted only by the click of the hour hand on the only analog clock hung on the wall. It must’ve been ages since Logan souped up the old thing to announce clockins, breaks, and clockouts.

“For the next hour,” Joy declares, “Neptune does not exist.”

“Seconded,” the other interns agree, putting their respective monitors to sleep and shuffling for the break room.

Roman lags behind to enter after Logan, prodding the small of his back and tilting his head toward the computers. He clears his throat meaningfully. Logan sighs, casting one last doleful look into the breakroom before joining Roman out on the floor again.

“They did want me to give you this,” Roman murmurs, “but keep it cazh.”

“Nothing is less ‘cazh’ than you shortening the word ‘casual’ like that,” Logan says, nonchalantly stretching an arm over his head. On the downswing, he takes the item from Roman’s hand and threads it between his fingers.

“I think I got the same deal, but don’t mention it, yeah?” Roman steps into the breakroom first, allowing Logan a moment to dawdle and inspect his acquisition. A flat disc, about the size of a well-used roll of scotch tape, with the NASA logo on both sides. Logan pinches the edges beside the first and last letter experimentally, and a USB plug pops out from the bottom of the logo. He pinches again, and it slides away. It looks for all the world like an overly expensive keychain one might find in a cheap museum. Logan shrugs, pockets it, and joins the others in the breakroom.

Only Roman appears to be in any semblance of a good mood—then again, he got clearance to visit the upper offices while everyone else pondered that stupid riddle. After teasing Roman about how he was probably about to get The Talk (the firing talk, that is) from the higher ups, it only took the rest of the floor about five minutes to give up on individual glory and try to solve the problem together. Obviously, it didn’t help.

“We could send someone for coffee,” Cassidy says. At least, Logan thinks that’s what she said. Her voice is a little muffled, what with how her face is pressed against the table.

“And get yelled at for prioritizing caffeine over the crappy cloud juice we’ve already got here?” Alex replies, tracing their finger over the glass front of the vending machine. Its only products are bottled water and expired heath candy bars. Four bucks a pop. “I’d rather dehydrate than take that kind of reprimanding.”

“I am literally going to commit multiple federal and moral crimes if I don’t get some real bean juice in my system in the next hour,” Joy grumbles. A true testament to her name.

Micah, apparently having moved on from the destruction of his aquatic zombie idea, springs to his feet from where he was sprawled across the floor. “We could use Logan’s app!”

This might be a good time to mention that, in padding his resume to apply for this extended internship, Logan made a brief foray into coding, which resulted in an app he dubbed ‘fetch quest.’ Basically a personalized coffee order service, more specialized than door dash, where instead of ordering food straight to your location, you put out a request for coffees—usually from Starbucks, Tim Hortons, Biggby, the like—to be delivered by the colloquially nicknamed fetch kids. Upon getting their coffee, the buyer reimburses the fetch kid for the coffee, as well as an obligatory tip so the fetch kid can turn a quick buck.

To tell the truth, Logan was genuinely too lazy to walk to the campus cafeteria for a coffee while working on homework, and paid his roommate five dollars to do it for him. (He paid in nickels, by the way.) So lazy was Logan, in fact, that he made an app to avoid ever dealing with the inconvenience again.

“I’m down for that,” Cassidy mumbles. “Who’s got the app? Seems kinda rude to do six separate orders, y’know, like ordering a different personal pizza from different locations and having them arrive at the same time, then fight to the death for the right to deliver their pizza first, so they miss the thirty minute limit and no one gets paid.”

“Okay, so Cassidy gets a decaf,” Alex says, swiping around on their phone. “Everyone just getting their usuals? Same as the last fetch quest?” Grunts of agreement are their only answer—aside from Roman, who peers over Alex’s shoulder to design an obscenely personalized drink.

“Pitch in a five dollar tip for the barista,” Logan calls. “I’ll cover it.” Roman perks up at that as Alex taps the appropriate button on their phone. Before he can ask, Logan nods, saying, “I’ll spot you the six dollars.”

“It’s actually closer to seven,” Roman admits, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I got a dairy substitute, don’t sue me. I’m broke, anyway, so it wouldn’t help if you won the suit.”

“This is a paid internship,” Joy points out.

Roman looks aghast. “You guys are getting paid?” It’s unclear whether he’s kidding.

“Order placed and transaction pending,” Alex announces, “so start up the charitable donation pool to my wallet.” Roman initiates the process, pulling the beanie off his head and carrying it around the room for everyone to toss their bills in. He can only manage a weak smile when Logan tosses in double what he ought to.

“Wait, Logan,” Micah says, “you didn’t get anything last time.”

“Shoot, yeah, what can I get you? No one’s picked it up yet,” Alex says, pulling the wads of bills from Roman’s hat.

“Just do a fetch kid’s delight, I guess. Price limit five.” Roman darts across the room to grab the proffered bill from Logan, attempting (and spectacularly failing) to parkour over the chair on his way back. The rickety plastic flies out from underneath him and his chin smacks the carpet as he goes down. Before anyone thinks about moving to help, he jumps to his feet and dusts off his knees, pretending as if nothing happened.

“It’s been accepted,” Alex announces.

“Maybe the trick is to work out whether the rocket, being from the moon, is the first to land, or if it has to be a life form in order to count for reaching Neptune first,” Joy suggests. Cassidy lifts her head to respond, thinks better of it, and drops her face back onto the table.

“That’s only assuming you give the rocket living rights to plant the flag,” Micah says.

“Did you guys consider the ramifications of the nationalities of each parent?” Roman asks.

“Yes,” everyone else groans in unison. Even Logan says it, now thoroughly annoyed by how much inconvenience Roman was able to skip in favor of retrieving a little flashdrive.

“Do we need to take into account the heritage of the parents?” Cassidy tries.

“It wasn’t included in the information backing up the question, and we’re only supposed to get an answer based on what we concretely know already,” Alex replies.

“We don’t concretely know already which flag they plant,” Logan offers, “so maybe the answer is that we aren’t supposed to have one.”

“That’s exactly what someone who knows the answer would say,” Joy mutters. This manner of conversation continues for another fifteen minutes or so, until someone knocks on the door at the top of the stairs.

“Liquid inspiration!” Roman shouts, vaulting over the empty chairs on his sprint for the door. As he swings it open to reveal a very familiar silhouette, Alex clicks a few times on their phone, finalizing the transaction upon receival.

Apart from the grey and red plaid scarf wrapped around his neck, Cadmium looks like he walked straight out of one of his own tours, down to the maroon cardigan and black skinny jeans. “Fetch quest fulfillment for Ally-oopsy-olly—”

“Yep, yes, that’s me,” Alex interrupts quickly, not letting him finish saying the username. They take a couple of the cups from Cadmium, stepping aside to let Joy and Micah help with the rest. Cadmium makes eye contact with Logan for a split second, inclines his chin, and turns to leave. He pulls out his phone, the screen angled enough for Logan to see the fetch quest home screen loading in more requests.

“Wait, we didn’t tip you,” Logan calls, surging past the other interns to catch up.

“Yeah, we did,” Alex says, “I put in your five, and I have my account set for an auto-gratuity of twenty—”

“Shut up , Alex,” Logan hisses over his shoulder. He turns to Cadmium, who looks somewhere between amused and bewildered. If he landed on Neptune, which emotion would touch down first? “Here y’are. Thanks.” Logan allows the last word to linger in the air, implying an unvoiced request for a name as he passes Cadmium a ten.

Cadmium glances from his phone—now proudly displaying a cheerful reimbursement and tip breakdown message—to the bill and back to his phone. He nods slowly, taking the ten and heading down the stairs. Logan blinks, watching him go.

“Wow,” Roman says, coming closer to rest his elbow on Logan’s shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, my guy.”

“Oh, shove off.”

[kbbeatriceblog]

A Chance for a lifetime

By: Kierulf, Natasha Beatrice

The rays of sunlight danced around her room as she just woke up. She got up from her bed and stretched her arms as she made her way into her bathroom, did her business, took a bath, and brushed her teeth. After, she opened her wardrobe and changed into her formal attire then fixed her hair into a bun. Grabbing her suitcase and her envelopes, she took one last glance in the mirror before making her way out of her apartment. She hailed for a taxi to get to her designated location. The weather today sure is fine. The city is full of people early in the morning. Glancing at her watch, it was still 7:38 am, although the trial starts at precisely 8. As she arrived at her location, she immediately went to her office to wear her robe, below the prosecution tag was her name. Prosecutor Ma. Aysel Alvarez. 

She sat down on her chair to review the case one more time before proceeding to the courtroom. As she waits, a man in his late 20s approached her. "Are you ready to get roasted, Prosecutor Alvarez?" He said with a smirk. She looked at him and gave him a sweet smile. "The real question is, are you ready to get knocked out again, Attorney Guevarra?" She turned back to arranging her things on the table, "Don't be too confident, how are you so sure that you can knock me out again if I can break you twice today?" Atty. Guevarra had his hand on her envelope, which was containing the evidence. Aysel looked at his hand before standing up to meet his eyes. "By the truth," she said, and smiled, "And nothing but the truth." With that, she sits back down again with a determination to win today's final trial. The courtroom was crowded by reporters, journalists, and lots more. Who would blame them? It was a heated topic. The defense brought witnesses which will solidify the claim that the accused is innocent. "This honorable court of the Republic of the Philippines with the Honorable Judge Vincent Villar is now in session. All rise." Everyone then stood up as the judge entered the courtroom. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Calling Case No. M-1129, People of the Philippines versus Emmanuel Cruz. The final trial will begin. Are the defense and the prosecution ready?" The judicial courtroom assistant announced. "Ready for the People, Your Honor," Aysel said. Her figure stood out from the rest with her average height, mid-length black hair, and her usual smile. "Ready for the defense, Your Honor," Atty. Guevarra said. Aysel and Atty. Guevarra both shared a glance before taking their respective seats. The last trial finally started. "The defense will now prove its case, Your Honor," He said and looked at the crowd. The judge motioned for the defense. "Defense?" Atty. Guevarra then made his way to the front. "Your Honor, I summon the sister of the accused one last time to the witness stand, Ms. Santos." 

A woman in her late 40s proceeded to the witness stand. "Let's proceed," Atty. Guevarra cleared his throat. "You are the sister of the accused. To be more precise, you are the sister of Mr. Emmanuel Cruz, am I right?" He questioned. "Yes." Ms. Santos answered. "Kindly tell us, the full details, where your brother was at when the night of the murder happened?" Attorney Guevarra started to question their witness. "Well, in the morning, he drops by at my house to tell me that he'll have to attend his meeting at the company he was working at. He said it was hard leaving his wife all by herself whilst she's sick, he mentioned he'll be home quite late. He was carrying suitcases so I thought he was busy at that time. My brother also told me that his wife was cheating on him and that he will file a divorce sooner or later. On the night of the murder, he called me saying that his wife, along with her best friend, was dead. So, I went over to their house and saw both of them lying on the floor, lifeless. That was when I called the police, but they accused my brother of killing them." Ms. Santos was giving glares to the audience, especially to the prosecutor, Aysel. "Your Honor, the story itself just proved that the accused is innocent and by that, I rest my case." Atty. Guevarra stated and went back to his seat. The judge nodded. "Prosecutor?" Aysel stood up and stood at the center. "You mentioned that you are the sister of the accused, right?" Aysel asked Ms. Santos. "Yes." Aysel narrowed her eyes. "You also mentioned that in the morning, before the murder happened, Mr. Cruz went to have a meeting at the company he worked for?" Aysel said. "Yes." Ms. Santos said. "I've printed the things you said on the first trial and wrote down the things you said today. And it is quite different." Aysel looked deeply at Ms. Santos' eyes. 

"OBJECTION YOUR HONOR! THE PROSECUTION IS ONLY MAKING UP ASSUMPTIONS AND MIGHT CHANGED WHAT THE WITNESS SAID ON THE FIRST TRIAL!" Atty. Guevarra said. "Your Honor, I have permission from the stenographers." Aysel presented a permission letter and gave it to the judge. Judge Villar nodded for Aysel to proceed. "Objection overruled, prosecution continue." 

Aysel presented the difference of what the witness had said during the first trial and for today's trial. "Ladies and gentlemen, what the witness had said during the first trial is that Mr. Emmanuel Cruz sure did go to the company he was working for but he was only there for a couple of hours according to the biometric fingerprint time machine at the company then later went home. And you stated today that Mr. Cruz will file for a divorce because he caught his wife cheating on him. But, just so you know, divorce is still illegal in the Philippines." Everyone in the room was shocked that they didn't seem to notice this mistake. Of course, some would forget what she said during the first trial since it only happened last month. Loud murmurs can be heard in the courtroom. 

 "ORDER IN THE COURT!" 

 "Prosecution, continue."

 "You also mentioned in your testimony that when your brother called you because his wife and her best friend were dead, you immediately went to their house. Am I right?"   

"Y-Yes." Ms. Santos stuttered. Aysel smirked. "But according to police records, your house is fifteen minutes away, and by the time you arrived at the scene, you were the one who called the police. But the question was, why didn't your brother called the police after discovering what has happened? You were the first person he called after finding out that his wife, along with her best friend, were killed?" Aysel went towards the witness stand. "Tell me, Ms. Santos, why?" 

"OBJECTION YOUR HONOR, THE PROSECUTION IS TRAUMATIZING THE WITNESS!"

"Objection overruled, make her answer." 

 Aysel waited as she looked at Ms. Santos' eyes. "Please do tell, Ms. Santos." Aysel sure was pressuring the witness but she is also trying to get the truth out from the witness' mouth. Ms. Santos was sweating and Aysel can see the look in her face that she has been lying all this time. "Ms. Santos plea--"

"Because his wife cheated and she deserves to die!"

Aysel smiled, victoriously. Ms. Santos widened her eyes and covered her mouth with her hands. "Your honor, as you have witnessed, the witness had admitted that she and her brother were behind the killings of Mrs. Cruz and Mr. Chu. Thus, admitting that what she said at the first trial and this final trial were all lies."

The crowd cheered, especially the family of the victims. Aysel sighed heavily and returned to her seat. The prosecution and defense said their closing argument. And hours later, the verdict will now be announced.

"The accused," she said, "..has been charged with murder in the first degree. As the judicial courtroom assistant, and in front of the People of the Philippines, as the power has given us by the Constitution of the Philippines, with the decision of the judge driven by evidence and arguments presented, the accused, is found.." 

 There's a silence.

 "GUILTY."

 Everything went as fast as light, people were making noise out of joy and both the accused and his sister were being arrested.

 As the trial was done, Aysel went out of the courtroom to be greeted by reporters, pushing their mics towards her as they questioned her about the case. She was obliged to answer but she also has to go home and rest. Aysel went to her office and removed the robe and put it on the hanger. She fixed herself and drank the water from her tumbler. Aysel was about to walk out of her office but she felt dizzy and the world was spinning from her point of view before passing out. The last thing she saw was someone carrying her towards a dark room. 

 Aysel woke up, not in her apartment, but in a warehouse. She turned her head from left to right to see if she can recognize this place. But to no avail, she couldn't. Her hands and feet were both tied to the chair she was sitting on. She looked down and notice she was only wearing her undergarments, she felt embarrassed. She struggled in pulling her hands, thinking it might break free. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Aysel turned her attention towards the voice. "Who are you? Why am I here?" She asked. She was trying to remain calm as possible but her heart wouldn't stop beating so fast. The person stepped forward revealing a teenager. Aysel raised a brow before widening her eyes. "Aaron?" She gasped. 

 "Aaron Santos." 

 Aysel was dumbfounded. She opened her mouth but nothing will come out. She couldn't believe the person in front of her is one of her students in the Political Science Course. He is an intelligent student and is very kind. He always performs well in class and shows cooperativeness. "Anton, what is the meaning of this?" Aysel asked yet Aaron just laughed. "You're asking me when you should be asking yourself, Professor." He walked towards where Aysel was and stops just right in front of her. "W-What do you mean?" Aysel was confused and doesn't know what Aaron meant by his statement. Aaron gave her a slap across the face before grabbing her neck for her to face him. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHEN YOU HAD JUST BEEN IN THE COURTROOM!?" Aysel was terrified until she realizes what he meant. "Y-You mean... Your mom?" Aaron lets go of her neck. "Bingo, Professor." Aaron smiled but it soon faded. "Aaron, you know what she did. Your mom admitted that she was involved in the crime." Aysel stated yet she received a punch on her cheekbone. By this, another punch followed and then another. All Aysel could do was endure the pain as she couldn't muster up the strength to scream for help. Her blood spilled across the floor as Aaron continued to punch her here and there. As Aaron was done, he proceeded to unclip her bra before pulling out a gun and pointed it at her. "You know, Professor. I have the hots for you. But, after what happened to my mother, I thought that you also deserve to suffer." He was about to pull the trigger when the warehouse door went slamming and a man then started pointing his gun towards Aaron. 

 "DROP YOUR WEAPON AND GET ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW!!"

 Aaron dropped his gun and put his hands behind his head and kneels. A man approached him, confiscating his gun, and knocked him out by the butt of the gun. Aysel glanced at the man approaching him. "I'm glad I made it in time." The man took off his coat and covered her body with it before cutting off the ropes to set her hands and feet free. Policemen then arrived at the scene then handcuffed Aaron before escorting him towards the police mobile. Aysel held the coat close to cover her body as the man carried her to his car. Her face was filled with blood from the recent punches she received from earlier yet she turned her head to see the man's face.

 "Atty. Guevarra."

 He smiled at her. 

 "Please call me Chance."

 He said, looking straight into her eyes. "H-How did you find me?" Aysel asked. "I was about to congratulate you in your office but I only saw your belongings on the floor except for your phone and wallet. And you happen to drink your water but your water wasn't just water, it had hallucinogens. After that, I made the police track your GPS and we made it just in time to save you." Chance explained. Aysel was lost for words. 

 "Thank you."

 Chance held her hand, "I'll defend you, Attorney."

 Aysel smiled at him. 

 Weeks later, Aaron was charged with domestic violence and is punishable by fines and seven years of jail time. Aysel was able to get the weight off her shoulders. Her face was able to heal through the weeks and she was currently seeing her psychiatrist after what happened. She was most thankful to Chance who was able to help her through what she had gone through. People wouldn't even believe that the two best lawyers who were always neck-to-neck in the courtroom were now teaming up together. People thought that it was just a situation Chance used because he lost twice against Aysel and that the world didn't change. But who cares? Chance was her hero. It changed HER world. He was her chance for a lifetime.

edit: [2,303 words]

[mizalsayf]

Foreign Letters - Chapter One

~MASTERLIST~

Summary: After June’s passing, Denny is given a few letters.

Word Count: 2170

A/N: I finally decided to write for another character and it’s our beloved Denny! He’s one of my faves and deserves the world. But if you know me, you know he won’t get it in this story. @jeffreyfuckingdeanmorgan is the one responsible for that chapter being posted, so blame her.

Please let me know what you think and leave your feedback.

Warnings: angst, kinda fluff

Tagging: @warriorqueen1991 , @pelctiersnegan , @ryangoslingstanktop , @wolfgirl1074 , @haleyea , @collette04 , @negansoutpost , @mayuketchupytostones , @xabeautifultragedyx, @queenredfury , @kawaiirepublic , @jdms-network , @lovesjdm

Let me know if you want to be tagged. And to everyone already tagged, please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future Denny fics.

(gif originally posted by @heartfulloffandoms )

Be thankful for today, because in one moment, your entire life can change.

Denny held the envelopes in his hands, looking at them with tears threatening to overflow his eyes. He sniffled and hiccupped a few times before he rubbed his eyes, catching a few tears.

He got out of surgery with a brand new, healthy heart. He was excited to show June how warm his hands could be, how he could also have a steady, normal heartbeat. But the joy was quickly taken away from him as soon as Izzie informed him of her passing.

Not entirely sure how to process that kind of information, he sent Izzie away, just wanting to be left alone with his sorrow. He was always sure that he would be the first of them to leave this earth, not her.

Denny’s attention was brought back to his empty hospital room as a nurse entered the room.

“Denny,” she sent a pitiful smile his way, “I’m just checking up on you to see if everything is okay with your new heart and yourself.” She spoke as she checked the monitors he was attached to and wrote them down on her chart.

“Blood pressure; a bit low. Pulse; normal and oxygen; good.” She mumbled as she brushed a few strands of gray hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear and readjusted her glasses on her nose.

“Lydia,” he spoke, his voice raspy and heavy, “did you know her well?” He lifted the letters in his hand a bit to emphasize who he meant.

The older woman thought for a moment, biting her lower lip in deep thought, “Hardly, but yes. She was really popular amongst the others that worked there. She was always someone we talked about.” She smiled, remembering the countless stories her colleagues have told her about June.

Denny’s empty, deep brown eyes fell back on the letters in his hand. He once again sniffled a couple of times until he finally decided to let some of his pent-up emotions out.

He laid the paper down onto the white hospital sheets and covered his eyes with his hands. His breathing began to get labored while sobs escaped his mouth.

Lydia enveloped her small, calloused hands around his bigger ones, giving him a stern look over her glasses.

“Listen closely, Denny. I don’t know what’s inside those letters. But I have a strong feeling that it might be important to both you and her. Read them. It’s not going to hurt less or make the pain go away, but it’ll make it easier.” She ordered, sounding like a mother lecturing her child.

Denny stared at her for a moment, his glassy eyes boring into Lydia’s and his bottom lip quivering. She rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles and gave him an encouraging nod.

“I don’t know if I can take this Lydia.” He whispered, looking around the hospital room in a panicked state as more tears rolled down his puffy cheeks.

The nurse began to shush him soothingly and shook his hands a bit, “You overcame so much without her and you will get back on that path again. It takes time but you’re strong. Please, Denny.” She pleaded, fixing her gaze on the letters in his lap.

Denny’s block of uncertainty started to melt away a bit as Lydia encouraged him more. His body tensed and his breath hitched as she leaned in to give him a hug, careful to not rip out any of his I.V cables.

The old woman marched back towards the door and opened it, leaving the grieving air of the room.

Denny stared into nothingness for a few seconds more before he secured his decision and picked one of the letters up. He breathed in the scent of the paper, that held a faint note of coconuts in it.

He carefully opened the lid and pulled out the paper along with a necklace. He furrowed his brows, not sure what it was until he took a closer look at the pendant. He recognized it as one of hers that she always wore, a rose gold tulip.

Denny wrapped the band around his hand and squeezed it with the little strength he possessed. He unfolded the paper, looking at her neat handwriting and began to read..

—

Hello old man,

When you’re reading this, it means that I left before you did. I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t suspecting this to be the outcome. I had a feeling.

But don’t cry too much, okay? We both knew it bound to happen sooner or later. Also, I’m sure Lydia or Izzie wouldn’t know how to react.

But let’s not think about that too much right now. Do you still remember the first time we met and you instantly fell for me?

—

Denny strolled through the bright hospital corridors, happy that he wasn’t bound to his uncomfortable bed any longer than necessary. Although he felt a bit light headed, he felt free and that mattered the most to him in that moment.

As he was about to round a corner, he bumped into something, or rather somebody. Luckily, he was able to hold the much smaller person before they fell to their hands and knees.

“Careful there.” He chuckled as he recovered from the initial shock, “You’re going to make my heart weak again.”

The person took a step back, brushing off her clothes and lifting her head to look up at him. Her deep green eyes stared up at him as a small, embarrassed smile spread across her face.

“I’m sorry, mister. I was lost in thought and not really watching my steps.”

Denny felt like he was dreaming. Her adorable British accent made him want to faint. Literally.

His world suddenly started to spin as his vision grew darker and darker. He heard her shout for someone to help as he felt someone barely hold him up. Then, he was gone.

—

“Can someone please come and help me?! Don’t bloody faint on me. For god’s sake, you’re heavy.” She huffed, struggling to keep a firm grip on the stranger. She stood there with a man in her arms, barely able to stand straight as a nurse emerged from the office and bolted in her direction.

“What happened?” The older woman questioned, as other nurses ran out of the rooms around them. They immediately got to work and sat him down in a wheelchair.

“We bumped into each other, then, he just paled and… fainted.” June answered, her breathing picking up a bit in relief. The gray-haired woman nodded, sending June a small smile and turning to the nurses that were currently wheeling the man back into his room.

She took the cold I.V pole that has been her constant companion for the past weeks, deciding to walk after them. June heard the man starting to grumble and move again and was relieved when he answered the older nurse’s questions with a nod or hum.

“Is he going to be okay?” She asked a nurse that was making her way out of the room.  

The nurse stopped in her tracks and faintly smiled at June, “Yes, yes. He probably forgot to eat and drink enough. Happens to him all the time.” She assured, waving her hands a bit.

June patiently waited by his doorframe for the nurses to finish lifting him into the bed and plug him to an I.V. soon after, he opened his eyes and blinked a few times with a big smile spreading on his face.

The nurses that were still in the room began to giggle when they saw Denny’s head lull from side to side like he was listening to music.

“What are you grinning about, Denny?” The oldest of the nurses asked him as she began to check on his vitals, nodding from time to time.

“I saw a beautiful angel.” He answered as his smile grew bigger and the dimples became deeper. The nurse frowned and looked back at June who leaned against the doorframe with a slight blush crawling up her neck.

“Does that angel have a purple headscarf?” She chuckled.  

“Yes! That’s her!” Denny beamed like a child on Christmas Eve getting ready to open his gifts. “She also had a British accent. It was beautiful.” The nurses around him began to laugh, all their eyes on June who was trying to crawl inside herself.

After some time, when the nurses were sure nothing was going to happen to him, they left the room. June walked inside and closed the door behind herself.

Denny’s head snapped in her direction, hazel eyes meeting green ones. He was trying to figure out if he had some kind of hallucination from the I.V. June, on the other hand, wanted to say something but couldn’t utter a word.

“So, I’m hallucinating or dreaming, right?” He bit his lower lip in deep thought and slight nervousness. He didn’t know what it was about her, she just had an aura surrounding her that intrigued him like nothing has before.

June shook her head, “No, you’re not. I don’t know why you’d think that.” She looked around the room, avoiding his piercing eyes.

Denny almost told her to keep talking, her voice and accent were like music to his ears. He didn’t know why everything about her seemed to fascinate him.

June walked further into the room and sat down on a chair right beside the bed. She fumbled with her fingers, feeling slightly nervous by his intense stare that seemed to take in every inch of her.

“You’re not from this station, right?” He broke the silence with his husky, deep voice that almost made goosebumps appear on her skin. She felt drawn to the man in front of her and it scared her. She had never felt like this before, especially right after bumping into each other.

“No, I’m not. I’m from the oncology station.” She answered, swallowing a lump in her throat. He visibly leaned back into his pillows and looked at her with something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Understanding.

“That’s a nice necklace.” Denny commented, changing the topic as his gaze fixated on the pendant on her chest.

June immediately went to touch it and smiled at the memories surrounding said necklace. “Thank you. It was a gift from my family when I moved to the States.”

Denny nodded, listening to her every word. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know all the small things she liked or disliked, what she felt and how she felt. Just everything.

“Listen, I uhh have to go.” She went to stand up but before he thought about what he was doing, held onto her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Wait.. Thanks for, y'know, earlier.” He stuttered, facepalming himself internally at his poor choice of words.

She stared down at him with a hard look but it softened as soon as she saw that stupid, dimpled smile. “It’s no problem, really.” She smiled as he let her hand go and she grabbed her pole.

On her way to the door, a million thoughts ran through her mind. She knew she wanted to see him again, but how will she tell him that? It’s not like she was too outgoing or showed a lot of emotions in general.

June gripped the doorknob but before she opened the door, she turned around,

“What’s-”  

“Will-”

They both looked at each other, completely dumbfounded. Their eyes widened in surprise soon followed by a fit of giggles and laughs erupting in the room.

“What did you want to say?” June asked as her laughing subsided faster than his.

“I wanted to know what your name is and if we’ll ever see each other again?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, not sure if he went too far with the last part.

“June. June Faulkner and I’d very much like that.” June answered as a blush crept onto her face. Her purple headscarf falling a bit out of position as she scratched her head.  

“I’m Denny Duquette.” He introduced himself, “How about we meet up here again? Just in case I’m bedbound once again.” He suggested, wringing his hands together.

June nodded and opened the door, “See you tomorrow then.” She stated, closing the door behind herself as Denny shook his head in disbelief but did a small fist bump.  

He somehow got her to meet up with him again and she told him her name with a breathtaking smile. He couldn’t wait to coax that smile and those adorable giggles out of her again. In some odd way, he finally found something that made his stay at the hospital a bit more enjoyable.

—

As I was walking back to my room, I knew I was in deep trouble. I knew what I was getting myself into, but I wasn’t about to stop.

You were the reason that turned my dark, miserable day into one filled with giggles and delight.

[violecentstrs]

Memories of Us - Chapter 2

A/N: All right! So I’ll try to make it my habit of posting a new chapter every Wednesday. I have a bit of free time to write out the story then~ I hope you enjoy this one! 

P/S: Any italicized text between these “ • • •” means that it is the flashback/memory of Linda. If anything changes, I’ll inform you guys within that chapter. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warning(s): Blood, grief, mentions of death Word Count: 1,577 Summary: Soldier Reader looks exactly like Linda, a woman Bucky used to love. Little by little, she uncovers his past with Linda and what had happened between them through her visions. As she does, her feelings for Bucky grew as well. But, one question remains: if Bucky returns her feelings, will it be for Reader or for Linda?

<< Previous Chapter  ☀

★ ★ ★ 

• • •

I stand on the side as I watch the group of soldiers march together. From within the group, I catch a glimpse of James Barnes.

A soldier who works the hardest out of all of them. And if I have to admit, one of the best looking out there too. My father told me that he will have the title as a Sergeant soon because of all of his effort. I’ve seen him train with other soldiers. They seem to have a hard time defeating him. Especially at shooting.

I smile sheepishly when he passes by. He simply smiles back at me and returns to his marching.

• • •

I wake up to the white ceiling of a hospital. My body aches and the throbbing pain from my shoulder and torso seems to never stop. My head spins around as I try to recall what had happened. Then, a flash of Mike’s dead eyes passes through my mind. I jolt up from the bed so quickly, I accidentally pulled off some of the machines from the table.

The nurse rushes into the room when she heard the commotion.

“Mike! Mike! Where is Mike??” I yell as the nurse holds me down.

“Let me go! I need to see him! He must’ve survived, right? He’s okay, right??”

“Calm down, Miss! You need to calm down or it’ll delay your healing process!” The doctor yells as he rushes into the room. When I refuse to stay in bed, he pulls me down and pins me against it. I fight them off with all the strength that I could muster up.

“Let me go! I have to find Mike! I need to see the rest of my team!” I desperately protest. But the doctor and nurses are stronger than me.

“Get the sedative!” He screams.

I scream out as they hold me down onto the bed again. Tears are streaming down my face as I continue to call out Mike’s name. Soon after, I hear running footsteps into the room. I look over to see Jeremy and Captain America with him.

“Let her go!” Jeremy says, pulling the doctor away before he could inject me with the sedative. Jeremy holds my arms and keeps me still.

“Y/N. Calm down. Calm down. It’s all right. You’re safe now.” Jeremy says as he holds my cheeks and rests his forehead against mine.

My tears continue to spill as I take a deep breath. My abdomen throbs with pain as my chest rise and fall quickly. I had reopened the stitching when I was fighting the doctor and nurses off. Blood is soaking through my hospital gown.

But, I couldn’t care for the new throbbing pain right now. I want to know if Mike survived or not. I want to know if the rest of my team are all right too.

“Please, Jeremy… Where’s Mike? And Darius? Elvis and Hanna?” I whisper behind my tears. What happened to them?

“Shh… Y/N, calm down. Take a deep breath and calm your mind.” Jeremy’s soothing voice tames the storm within my mind a little.

When I finally was able to calm down, I take another deep breath.

“J…Jeremy. M…Mike… He… He…” I choke on my tears.

Jeremy looks over at the doctor, signalling him to give us a private moment. The doctor insists that he needs to check on me first but Jeremy protests and said to come back later. I grab onto his arm in desperation, waiting for him to say something.

“Jeremy! Mike! Where is he?? And the rest??” I ask again.

“Darius, Elvis and Hanna are fine. They survived.” Jeremy says while brushing his fingers through my hair.

My heart found a small sense of relief. At least they are fine. But… my heart didn’t stop racing. There’s still one more person he hasn’t mentioned.

“…and Mike?” I whisper with a little sense of hope. Jeremy’s sad teary eyes were all I need to know the harsh truth.

“Y/N… I’m sorry but he’s gone. He didn’t make it.” Jeremy says with a sad tone.

His words hang in the cold bitter air. My eyes widen as the tears pour endlessly. My whole world stops. My heart felt like it just disappeared out of my chest. Internally, I felt as though I had been thrown into an abyss.

A dark, cold and lonely abyss.

I look down at the bloodied hospital sheets in disbelief. I remember the fear in his eyes when he pleaded for help to me. I remember his last words and how his bloody hands stopped moving right after. How his sad, broken and accepting eyes stare right into my very soul the moment his slips away from his body.

“It was my fault. I should’ve protected him… I was careless, I…” I say with a broken and shaky voice.

No! I refuse to believe this… I can’t! Mike, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault!

My hands shiver as though they still had Mike’s blood on them. But they did… Even though my hands are clean, the memory they hold is not. His blood was in my hands. I had caused for his death… I didn’t protect him as well as I should have. Jeremy wraps his arms around me tightly.

“Shh… Y/N. It’s not your fault. We couldn’t have seen it coming…” He tries to reassure me. But my mind was set. My heart was broken and my whole world just shattered in front of me.

My brother. My sweet little brother. Died before my very eyes and I couldn’t protect him.

“He was the only one I have left… I can’t… I don’t…” I say behind my choked voice. Tears didn’t stop coming and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t accept this harsh truth. I can’t.

“Captain Rogers. Mr. Barnes. I know you’d like to see her, but I ask you to come back another day.” Jeremy says as he holds me tightly. His statement had pulled me out of my grief briefly. I open my eyes at the mention of their names. I had forgotten that they were there.

“I understand. We’re sorry for intruding. We’ll come back later.” Captain says. I cough the tears away and try to gain my senses back momentarily. I take a deep breath before pushing Jeremy to the side. I look up at them.

“C…Captain. Si…Sir. Thank you for… saving my life. For… saving our lives.” I manage to say behind my choking tears. I needed to say thank you after all. We survived because of them.

When both of them looked at me, I see a splitting image of them. Younger and in the old military uniforms before my vision clears out. That threw me off for a few seconds.

“It is our duty. We hope you get well soon.”

The Captain’s voice was familiar. I have heard them before when we met over at another mission, but only this time, it was a different kind of familiar.

 • • •

I sit in my father’s office by my desk alone; sorting out through the files of soldiers. He wanted me to separate those who are deceased from the pile. My heart aches at the sight of the files piling up. Young men died too soon. They truly deserve better.

A knock on the door.

“Come in.” I say without looking up from the papers.

“I’m here to retrieve a file, Miss.” The familiar voice calls out. I look up to see the soldier, James Barnes, standing before me. My heart races and my mouth runs dry. There he is, the new Sergeant in his military uniform. He looks even better up close and personal.

When I snap myself back into reality, I stand up a little too fast.

“What file, soldier?” I ask, not showing any hint of my nervousness. I was the General’s daughter after all. I need to be as tough and strong as my father.

“My file, Miss. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. As I understand I’ll be transferred to England next week.” My heart drops. He’ll be leaving? I hesitate for a moment before pulling out the cabinet drawer with letters from A-D.

“James Buchanan Barnes. Here.” I say as I slowly pull out the file. Inside was a photo of his enlistment along with his other information. I close the file and hand it over to him.

“Here you go. Good luck, James.” I say with a small smile. James gives me a salute followed by one of his sweetest smiles.

“Bucky, Miss.”

“What?”

“You can call me, Bucky.” He says fondly. My cheeks turn red slightly at his words. I nod.

“Linda.” Bucky nods before making his way to the door. He stops briefly and looks up at me. A small hope glimmering behind his eyes.

“I hope we see each other again, Linda.” He says.

My heart flutters at his statement. He smiles over at me again before closing the door. Inside, I was jumping with joy. I sit back down on my chair before pulling out the photo of him I snuck out from the file just now. I’m quite skilled at that.

I smile to myself. His picture captured his features perfectly. From the curve of his lips to the vibrant of his eyes. If only the picture could also capture their beautiful colours as well. But that will have to live within my memory.

“I do hope so too, Bucky…”

• • •

★ ★ ★

☀  Next Chapter >>

A/N: So I hope that the story wasn’t confusing to you guys. Let me know what you think. If it was, please let me know and I’ll see what I can do to fix it. Any comments or questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I don’t bite (hopefully). If you’d like to be tagged , comment/message me!

Thank you so much for reading! Much love. <3

Next chapter coming soon!

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