#st barbara's day

[kajenus]

As always: God speed you, miners! Happy St. Barbara's day! 💛💙 ⚒️

[the-dust-jacket]

LET'S PUT ON A SHOW: six novels about playing Shakespeare!

(Pictured: Romeo and Juliet Together (And Alive!) At Last; Foolish Hearts; King of Shadows; Star-Crossed; Hag-Seed; Station Eleven)

I love a good let's-put-on-a-show story, especially a Shakespearian one, and I feel like it's been ages since I've picked one up. If you've got recommendations please let me know!

[hairstevington]

i'm counting the days to the rapture (Part 2 - Barbara)

Summary: Barb wakes up and contemplates what happened to her. Eventually, she decides to turn lemons into lemonade. (part 1, link to Ao3)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Teenage girl angst but it's Barb so it's iconic, otherwise idk this fic is all about the topic of life and death but that's about it for warnings!

A/N: Ao3 is down and idk what to do with myself so here's the next chapter! I love writing Barb and am excited to have her as a main character. This chapter is inspired by the song "Last Man on Earth" by Anna Bates. Enjoy!

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

It was like waking up from the worst nightmare she’d ever had. 

Barb gasped for air as she sat up, clawing at her neck and stomach, fighting against something that was no longer there. She halted, realizing that it had all been a dream. 

Oh, thank goodness. 

She closed her eyes and breathed until she felt centered again. If the monster attacking her had been a dream, everything leading up to it must have been as well - the party at Steve’s house, Nancy going up those stairs…

Barb was so relieved she nearly burst into tears. What a horrible, miserable, tragic dream. 

She opened her eyes to find that she wasn’t in her bedroom. She wasn’t in any bedroom actually. She wasn’t even in a bed. It was a bit dark, but she was sitting in an open space, hard concrete beneath her, the night sky above. It was quiet, the temperature cool. 

She blinked a few times and stood up, her vision slowly adjusting to the lack of light. A ladder was beside her, so she climbed up - and that’s when she recognized where she was. 

Oh. Oh, my.

She was still at Steve Harrington’s house, where she’d been in her dream, but the pool was empty now. Why would it be empty? They’d just been swimming in it. Did she fall in and then they drained it and left her there? If it had been a dream, why was she still here? Unless, she was still dreaming…

Well, this didn’t really make much sense at all. She pinched herself, but remained where she was. Steve’s house was completely dark on the inside - no Steve, no Nancy, no Tommy, and no Carol. Just Barb - alone, confused, and surrounded by that deafening silence. 

The world was still.

Nothing around her felt like it had any life to it. She didn’t have the words to explain it. Why would she? She was a sixteen year old girl who never wanted to go to that stupid party in the first place. Up until that night, Barb had lived a nice, normal life. She had great parents who supported and loved her, a best friend she could tell everything to, and big aspirations to go to college and travel the world. What else could a person want?

None of that existed here - she could just tell. She woke up somewhere else. Somewhere familiar, but foreign.

“Nancy?” she called out, hearing nothing but her own echo. “Nancy!”

Barb knew her best friend had a brief lapse in judgment, but in no world would Nancy have left her there. Barb checked herself for wounds but found none - not from whatever that beast was, nor from the knife she’d used when she tried to shotgun a beer (so stupid). 

She realized that her car was parked somewhere down the street - in theory, anyway. She figured that was a good place to start, so she headed that direction. As she walked, she pondered her situation some more. She knew deep down that she wasn’t still dreaming, but denying that and holding out hope she was provided a bit of comfort. 

It’s just that - she remembered what had happened to her, and she knew she was killed. Which meant wherever she was could very well be the afterlife. 

The Holland family went to church every Sunday, and Barb was no exception. She didn’t consider herself to be a very religious person, but her parents had strong faith, and Barb had lived her life to their standards. To God’s standards, really. Barb had never sinned - she’d had a few sips of wine with Nancy at a sleepover once or twice, but that was it. And was that even a sin, or just illegal?

None of that mattered, because this place wasn’t heaven. Didn’t quite feel like Hell, either. Purgatory? Maybe. 

Her car was there. She hadn’t really been expecting it to be, based on her luck so far that night, but she was grateful for it nonetheless.

And that’s when something else caught her eye - a billowing of smoke from beyond the trees, accompanied by the faint scent of something cooking. It was close, she could tell, but she didn’t want to walk there. Not near those woods, not with the monster still etched into her memory. So, she got into her car and drove toward it, winding down the road and around until she pulled up to Benny’s Burgers. She’d been there a few times with her parents, as a kid, and then once or twice with Nancy for milkshakes, but that was it. 

Usually, the diner was nothing special. Now, it seemed like the most exciting place of all time. 

Lights were on inside, music blaring. Barb could see a man through the window. She was thrilled to hear something fill the silence, to see light within the darkness, to feel life amidst the void. 

She stumbled to the door, stunned. It felt as if she were at the bottom of the lake, swimming to the surface. Once she was through the door frame, she could breathe again. 

“Hey,” the man said. “Where did you come from?”

She was more concerned about where she was now, but his question was still a valid one. 

“I just climbed out of an empty pool,” she explained, relieved that she was no longer alone in this. Whatever this was. “I - I’m pretty sure I’m dead.”

The man looked at her curiously. 

“Dead?” he asked, confused. “Well, you look fine to me. Can I make you something?” He wiped his hands on his pants and gestured to the kitchen behind him. Barb shrugged and nodded. 

“Milkshake?” she asked. Benny chuckled and shook his head. 

“You’re the second mysterious girl to show up here alone wanting ice cream,” he said as he turned towards the walk-in freezer. 

“You mean, there are other people around?” For a moment, she was hopeful again. Nancy and the others disappearing was weird, but she wasn’t thinking about that. There was probably an explanation, and everything was normal, and -

“Well, no,” he replied, sheepish. “Not that I’m aware. Although, I haven’t ventured that far if I’m honest.” 

Oh. Damn. 

He walked into the freezer and emerged with a tub of vanilla ice cream.

“So, who was the other girl?” Barb asked, desperate for more information. The man got a clean scoop from the dishes and heated it under hot water. 

“Dunno,” he replied. His face was almost forlorn. “She was here before I - well, before.” Barb nodded, slowly, taking all of this in. The man scooped the ice cream into a blender, poured milk in, and then suddenly the room was vibrant with noise - albeit unpleasant, grinding noise, but still. He clicked off the blender, and music coursed through the air once more. 

“So, what’s the last thing you remember?” she asked. “Like - I mean, what happened? When did you get here? How -?”

“Woah there, one thing at a time here,” the man said. He poured the milkshake in two glasses and sat down with her at a table, sliding one in front of each of them. “I haven’t been here that long, I don’t think. But it seems to be just me. Haven’t had a customer since I woke up.” They each took a sip. “Let’s start with you, though. How’d you end up here, uh - sorry, what’s your name?”

“Barb,” she answered. “You first.”

“Hmm, fair enough,” he responded. “I’m Benny, by the way. I run the place, as you probably figured out.”

Barb probably should have figured that out by now, but she hadn’t been thinking about it. Benny. That made sense. It was the first thing that had made sense so far.

“Thanks for the milkshake, Benny,” she said, drinking some more.

“You’re welcome, Barb,” he replied. “As to how I got here, well, uh - hmm. Yeah, I guess I’ve been thinking I died, too.”

“How?”

Benny stared at her with raised eyebrows.

“How did I die?” Barb nodded. “Oh, it’s - how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Maybe a little young for this, then,” he muttered. “If what I think happened happened, it’s a bit violent.” Barb blinked a few times, unimpressed. 

“I was dragged around, attacked, and bit by a giant monster with no face,” she stated, matter of fact. Benny waited for her to say she was being sarcastic, but she stayed silent and unwavering. He shook his head. 

“Okay, kid. Point taken,” he told her. “Some woman I thought was from social services came in here and shot me in the head.”

Barb’s eyes widened in shock. 

“What? Why?” This time, Benny was the one to shrug. Barb sighed, then attempted once again to make a semblance of sense in all this. “Okay, so we’re dead. So are a billion other people. Maybe there’s more of us out there.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Benny said. “I guess I just - I’m happy here. I wish I knew what happened to that girl, but I got no way to find her. I don’t mind the quiet, and we still seem to have power and food and all that. I figure this ain’t much different than my life before.”

“Okay, well it’s - it’s a lot different from mine,” she countered. “I think I’m gonna go see what’s out there.”

“You’re leaving?” Benny asked, concerned. “But I - well, I dunno if it’s safe out there for ya.” Barb almost laughed. She’d always had a bit of a dark sense of humor.

“I’m already dead,” she said. Benny, mercifully, shared the same sense of humor and chuckled.

“Guess I won’t be able to convince ya not to, huh?” She shook her head. “Well, alright. You know where to find me. If you see a little girl with a shaved head, will you bring her back with you?”

“Sure,” she responded, not understanding the reference. “And I’ll run from anyone who claims to be from social services.” 

Benny laughed, then nodded. They finished their milkshakes, and then Barb left the diner and got into her car. 

Time to explore her new world.

-

Barb quickly learned she could do literally anything and get away with it. She started with speeding - that was an easy one. She could drive as fast as she wanted without much worry, especially on long straight roads. Nobody else was around, especially cops, so who cared? Not Barb!

She raided clothing stores and got a whole new wardrobe, including accessories. All things she’d always wished she could afford. She even took an evening gown from a bridal shop - what for? She figured she’d know when the time came. Then, for good measure, she took a second gown. Just in case she needed options in the hypothetical gala of the afterlife.

Gas stations still worked. A road trip seemed like a good idea. 

First, she went up North to Lake Michigan and spent her days in a lake house. It was too cold to hang out on the beach, but some of those winter nights were beautiful. She got to see the frozen water glimmer in the moonlight. She’d wake up and watch the snow fall outside the window. The season changed eventually to Spring and eventually Summer, but the days didn’t pass as they used to. It was more like one prolonged experience that felt neither too long nor too short.

Eventually, she left the lake house and decided to go to Nashville.

She listened to music (she'd also raided a record store and stolen a bunch of cassettes) and had the windows down, singing at the top of her lungs the whole drive. She started to think that maybe this whole thing wasn’t so bad. It was…freeing.

She stayed in fancy hotels and jumped on beds. She ran down hallways and swam in pools fully clothed. 

She walked through the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. Her dad was a huge country fan, so she’d grown up listening to it. At that point, she figured since no one was around, no one would mind if she took something, right?

Barb decided on Bob Nolan’s black cowboy hat. It looked absolutely ridiculous on her, but no one was looking, so it didn’t matter.

She went to the Grand Ole Opry House, hopped on stage, and screamed as loud as she could.  She walked into bars and made disgusting drinks - she didn’t know much about alcohol, but she came to learn it tasted awful no matter what she mixed it with.  She laid on rooftops and watched the stars at night. She named new constellations when she didn’t remember the old ones. 

It took her a very long time to get bored, but she did eventually. She thought about venturing further into different parts of the country, but she had all the time in the world to do that - and that apparently wasn't an exaggeration. Instead, she headed back to Hawkins, where her mind still wandered to on occasion. Plus, she wanted to know how Benny was doing. She hadn’t found a single soul in Nashville in the months (?) she’d been away, and it had taken her twenty minutes to find someone back home, so perhaps there would be more waiting once she arrived. 

She was right.

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

PS next chapter is our man Bob Newby so stay tuned!!

Taglist! (kind of guessing on this because it's a gen story so if anyone wants to be removed or added please let me know! You can use replies, DMs, or the google form)

@skjachukson @manda-panda-monium @twcatelgatitodetwitter @renaissan-vvitch @disastardly @goodolefashionedloverboi @depressed-gays-of-marvel @smolbasilboy @bunnyweasley23 @alliemunsonsstuff

[nia1sworld]

Happy St. Patrick's day

Viola: Wilton......how much ink did you drink this time? Barbara (Drunk): WeLl *Hic* mAyBe I....DrUnK lIkE *Hic*....1 tOo MaNy

[catholic-saint-tournament]

This is my votes for Dorothy Day, St. Ignatius of Loyola, and St. Barbara!

YASS YASS YASS

Votes recorded for all three of them!!!

[jontycrane]

Trogir

A UNESCO World Heritage Site, Trogir is a lovely spot on a small island half an hour from Split, filled with buildings from between the 13th and 15th centuries when it was part of the Venetian Empire. With limited car access it is an oasis of calm, other than the large tour groups passing through. It was pleasantly busy on a weekday in early June, but judging by the number of restaurants I can…

[portraitsofsaints]

Saint Barbara

3rd Century

Feast Day: December 4

Patronage: prisoners, architects, artillerymen

Saint Barbara, a 4th century Christian so angered her pagan father by her will to remain a virgin, that he forced her to live in a locked tower. The solitude gave her the ability to pray, study and convert to the faith. He then denounced St. Barbara to the civil authorities, where by she was horribly tortured and at last beheaded. Her father was the executioner. As he was traveling home, he was struck dead by lightning. When anger controls us, the consequences are grave.

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase here: (website)

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 6 December 1989 (content note: gendered violence), 14 women, most of whom were training in engineering fields, were murdered in a mass shooting at the École Polytechnique in Montreal. The 25 year old shooter specifically targeted women, claimed he was "fighting feminism," and killed himself after shooting 28 people. The names of those lost were: Geneviève Bergeron, Hélène Colgan, Nathalie Croteau, Barbara Daigneault, Anne-Marie Edward, Maud Haviernick, Maryse Laganière, Maryse Leclair, Anne-Marie Lemay, Sonia Pelletier, Michèle Richard, Annie St-Arneault, Annie Turcotte, and Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz. The day is commemorated annually across Canada as the National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women. https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.1819457841572691/2153570694828069/?type=3

[gatheringbones]

robert f. reid-pharr, from living as a lesbian, from Sister & Brother: Lesbians and Gay Men Write About Their Lives Together, 1994

["In 1985 Barbara Smith came like a fresh wind into Chapel Hill. She brought with her a vision of home unlike anything I ever had imagined. It was then that I began the process of being a lesbian. It is only recently that I began to understand lesbianism as a state of being that few of us ever achieve. To become lesbian one has to first be committed to the process of constantly becoming, of creatively refashioning ones humanity as a matter of course.

Coda

By becoming a lesbian, I have done nothing more nor less than become myself.

I had expected to end this piece with these words, forcing all of us, myself included, to reevaluate what it means to be labeled lesbian, gay, straight, bi, transgendered, asexual. And yet, this is not enough. For even as I recognize the difficulty of giving definition and meaning to our various identities, I also realize that as I struggle to lay claim to my lesbianism I am always confronted with the reality of my own masculinity, this strange and complex identity that I continue to have difficulty recognizing as privilege.

It was a Friday afternoon in September when I had my first bathhouse experience. I'm not sure what I expected, or wanted. In truth, I was compelled more than anything else by Samuel Delany's description in The Motion of Light in Water of his visit to the St. Mark's Baths in the early sixties. I thought that it would be exciting, that perhaps within this outlaws' territory I could throw off the stifling fears and anxieties that shape and constrain our lives, sexual and otherwise. I even felt that, given the name of the enterprise I was about to visit— "baths"— there had to be something intrinsically cleansing and healing about it.

Now I find myself asking if in the bathhouse— the most sacred of male enclaves, where my masculine body and affected macho style increase my worth in the sexual economy— I am still lesbian. Is it lesbianism that spills out of the end of my cock as bald-headed men with grizzled beards and homemade tattoos slap my buttocks and laugh triumphantly? Is it lesbianism that allows me to walk these difficult streets alone, afraid only that I will not be seen, accosted, "forced" into sexual adventure?

All my bravado, my will to adventure is caught up, strangely enough, with the great confidence I have gained from "The Lesbian." And yet, this confidence, this awareness of my own body, of my own independence, takes me to places where she dares not go. Perhaps then I am not a lesbian at all, but rather like a drag queen, by day a more or less effeminate, woman-loving gay man, by night a pussy, a buck, the despoiler of young men recently arrived from the provinces and the careful tutelage of their loving mothers. What I know for certain is that this self, this lesbian-identified gay man, is in constant flux. I live like a lesbian, as a lesbian, because I know no better way of life. Still, I live beyond her, in a province that continues to be reserved exclusively for men, all the while reaping the many fruits of sexual apartheid.

Me, I want to escape…. this dirty world, this dirty body. I never wish to make love again with anything more than the body.

Perhaps in my next life I will be done with these questions of identity altogether, will cherish fully the body that I am given, begin to see it neither as burden or weapon, but only as the vessel of my existence. Perhaps in my next life I will have given up finally this constant struggle to explain who I am not— not woman, not white, not straight, not you— and start to revel in the limitless of my boundaries. Perhaps each one of us will recapture that which has been lost, start again to accept and acknowledge the profound ambiguity and uncertainty of this existence. It is then and only then that we will find home.

In 1985 Barbara Smith came like a fresh wind into Chapel Hill."]

[kajenus]

God speed you, miners!

Happy St. Barbara's Day to all miners 💛💙 ⚒️

[dearlybelovedemilyko]

The Patron Saint of Things That Go Boom

or who’s St. Barbara and what does she have to do with Shadows House?

I came across the name St. Barbara a while back, when I was looking up the meaning of the name Barbara for a possible Shadows House name meanings edit (you know the ones). It didn’t cross my mind that a Catholic saint could possibly have anything to do with a manga about shadow people in a cult and I googled her solely out of curiosity but, as you can probably infer from the fact that you’re reading a post about it tagged #shadows house, I was in for a surprise.

To sum up her life story, St. Barbara was born the daughter of a pagan noble, who kept her locked up in a tower and sheltered from outside influence. One day he came back from a trip to find that in his absence she had converted to Christianity and wanted to dedicate her life to faith as a virgin, which was not only a really bad look at the time but also ruined his plan to marry her for money. He then turned her in as a Christian to the prefect, who sentenced her to imprisonment and torture and, when she didn’t lose her faith and her wounds were miraculously healed every morning, to death. (Another Christian tried to defend her and was also sentenced to death)

St. Barbara’s father insisted on being the one to carry the sentence, killing her himself. However, a storm broke out as soon as she died, and both the father and the prefect were struck by lightning, burning to death as punishment for their actions. 

Due to their role in her story, St. Barbara is seen as a protector against lightning, and consequently against fire and explosions (there is also an old belief that she could control them). The connection to explosions was so strong that she became the patron saint of literally anything explosion related, anyone who works with explosions, or anyone in danger of dying in an explosion, from gunsmiths to miners. Hell, look at this actual website calling her “the patron saint of things that go boom".

Sounds familiar, right? Barbara’s seizures, both in the manga and the anime, are accompanied by lightning effects. This is more subtle in the manga, in fact I hadn’t realized what those lines were supposed to be until I watched the anime (see: the gif right after the title of this post), but they’re clearly there. She’s the only character that gets this effect, nobody else so far produces lightning along with their soot.

Her usual seizures take the shape of a storm/tornado, complete with wind sound effects in the anime, while the worst ones we’ve seen so far, the one that gave Barbie her scar and that one that almost killed Barbara, have notably caused, guess what, explosions.

Notice also how it was raining in both occasions, and how in both of these explosions someone nearly died.

At this point the parallels seem too clear to be unintentional, and I'd believe you if you told me that somehow Somato and I fell down the same internet rabbit hole researching about this saint, so I thought I should share this information with you guys.

There are lots of coming and going fan theories about Barbara's soot powers, if we ever get to see them, so maybe this can give us some clues. It would certainly be interesting if she turned out to have lightning and/or explosion powers that she still can't control, and that work involuntarily during her seizures. It would also be cool as hell if she got a gun.

[ltwilliammowett]

Masterlist - Advent Calendar 2022

Day 1 - The Christmas Box - here

Day 2 - Love is in the Air - here

Day 3 - Man over Board ???? - here

Day 4 - Karavaki - Christmas Boats - here

Day 5 - Christmas at Sea, The Longest John - here

Day 6 - St. Nicholas Day- here

Day 7 - Aubreyad Christmas - here

Day 8 - The Eliza Ann - here

Day 9 - The Christmas Tree aboard the Anna - here

Day 10 - The mysterious Sailor's English Plum Pudding - here

Day 11- The Christmas Tree Ship- Rouse Simmons (1868), 1912 - here

Day 12- A self made Christmas Tree - here

Day 13- The Christmas Mutiny of 1857 - here

Day 14- Christmas celebrations aboard a warship and a merchant vessel - here

Day 15 - Sailor’s superstition - Christmas Edition - here

Day 16 - Santa Barbara Anna - here

Day 17 - Christmas aboard Whalers - here

Day 18 - Sinterklaas - here

Day 19 - Christmas on Arctic Expeditions - here

Day 20 - I saw three ships - here

Day 21 - Christmas in the southern hemisphere - here

Day 22 - Christmas Punch - here

Day 23 - Christmas Presents - here

Day 24 - Christmas Eve Greetings - here

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 1: Matt

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warnings/Tags: No real warnings thus far -- This is going to be a pretty angst-free fic.

Word Count: ~6,300

A/N: Welcome to Angel of God, My Guardian Dear! This started out as a 1-shot and quickly spiraled out of control, as my thirst for Matthew Michael Murdock could not be contained.

For the purpose of this story, Reader is Catholic and grew up at St. Agnes with Matt.

Title is from the Catholic prayer "Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide, Amen."

"All set to go to Lavelle?" 

Matt Murdock turned his head as his friend and business partner, Foggy Nelson, came into his office. "Yeah, just need to finish up here and I'll be on my way."

"It was really cool of them to ask you to come speak," Foggy added.

Matt nodded. "I hope I can help these kids realize that their disabilities don't define who they are and that they can be whoever and whatever they want to be, including lawyers."

Foggy huffed out a laugh. "Or crime-fighting vigilantes?"

Matt grinned. "Well actually, there's probably only room for one blind crime-fighting vigilante in this city, so I probably won't suggest that as a potential career path."

Foggy patted Matt on the shoulder. "You're a great speaker, I'm sure you'll motivate the heck out of those kids. Have a good time, dude."

"Thanks, Fog."

Matt grabbed his briefcase, headed outside, then hailed a cab.

"Alright, where we goin'?" The cabbie asked.

"The Bronx," Matt answered. "Lavelle School for the Blind."

The cabbie tapped on a screen, presumably putting the address into his GPS. "Alrighty, just sit tight and we should be there in about half an hour."

Matt sat back as the cab began to move.  Think of it like a jury, Karen had said when Matt had told her and Foggy about the opportunity over a couple of pints at Josie's a few weeks before. Just a younger, way more judgmental jury.

Matt had laughed. Not helping.

You'll do great.

He mentally practiced his speech during the ride and before he knew it, the cab was pulling up in front of the school.

"Thanks," Matt said as he paid the cabbie.

"No problem," the cabbie replied. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too."

Matt headed inside.

Almost immediately, a somewhat familiar voice asked him, "Hi, may I help you?"

Matt turned towards the voice. "Hi, yes, my name is Matthew Murdock. I'm one of the speakers for today?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Murdock, I'm Dr. Bowman, we spoke on the phone."

Matt nodded, now placing the voice. "Right, right."

"We'll be in the meeting hall, which is straight down this corridor. If you'll just come with me…"

Dr. Bowman led Matt down to the meeting hall. "We really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to speak to our students," she said as they entered.

"It's really not a problem."

"The students and their parents will be starting to arrive in a while, but if you'd like we could have someone escort you around to the exhibitor tables once they're all set up."

"Yeah, maybe."

"We have a Braille program if you'd like one -- it lists all the speakers and exhibitors for today."

"Yeah, I'd love one."

"Okay, one second."

Dr. Bowman stepped away for a minute then returned, handing Matt a booklet printed on Braille paper. "Okay, here you go."

"Thanks." Matt pointed to a nearby table. "Is it okay if I sit over here?"

"Yes, of course. Just let us know if you need anything."

"Will do."

Matt sat at the table and began to read the program. Staff, sponsors, speakers, exhibitors…

He began to read the exhibitor list. American Council for the Blind, representative Ashley Prewitt. VISIONS, representative Clay Markham. NYC Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities, representative Barbara Franklin. Andrew Heiskell Braille and Talking Book Library, representative Y/F/N Y/L/N --

Matt froze and read it again. Could it really be the same Y/N?

Y/N, who at 8 years old had taken 9-year-old Matt, who had just arrived at the orphanage, by the hand and declared that she would be his friend. Y/N, who had giggled when Matt had asked her a few days later if she was an angel and replied, 'no, silly, I'm a girl!' . Y/N, who had been Matt's fiercest protector and had gotten into almost as many fights as Matt himself had. Y/N, who would stroke Matt's hair softly until he fell asleep on the nights when he would sneak into her room because all the stimuli flooding his senses became too overwhelming. Y/N, to whom Matt had taught Braille so they could pass secret notes to each other without anyone else being able to read them. Y/N, who 17-year-old Matt had held while she cried the day they found out that Y/N had been taken in by her long-lost aunt and would be leaving Saint Agnes… and him. 

Y/N, his own personal guardian angel, the one person in the world Matt could tell everything to… except the one thing he had wanted to tell her most of all.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"I don't want you to leave," he admitted quietly as he and Y/N stood at the entrance to St. Agnes.

"I don't want to leave either," Y/N replied. "I wish you could at least come with me."

Matt chuckled wryly. He had overheard one of the nuns talking to Ms. Y/L/N earlier that morning, warning her about 'that Murdock boy' and telling her how it was best for Y/N to be separated from him 'before he gets her into trouble'. "I don't think your aunt would go for that."

"Then can we run away together instead? We could travel the world, just you and me on the epic best friend adventure that we've always dreamed of." 

God, Matt wanted to say yes. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/N by his side, be it as his best friend or -- as he knew deep down in his heart -- something more.

However, Sister Bernadette had been right. Y/N really was an angel sent from on high who deserved all of the goodness in the world, and Matt… Well, Murdock boys had the devil in them.

He shook his head sadly. "Your aunt's waiting. You should go."

Y/N was quiet for a few moments. Finally, she said, "Before I go… I got you something."

She took Matt's hand and dropped a thin, wiry chain into his palm. "I saved up for six months to buy it from the church's gift shop. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but…" She trailed off. "Anyway, think of me when you wear it, okay?"

Matt picked it up with his other hand. Attached to the chain was a small cross. 

He nodded. "I will. Thanks."

"I'll write to you, give you my aunt's address." Y/N pulled him into a tight hug then gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you, Matty."

"I'll miss you too. Goodbye, angel."

Matt waited as half of his heart climbed into a cab and left, the note he had written to her the previous night still in his pocket.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt mentally shook his head. Don't get your hopes up. It may not be her.

…But deep down he knew it had to be.

He stopped someone who was walking by. "Excuse me, can you tell me if the representative from the Heiskell Library is here yet?"

"Umm…" the woman paused as she turned towards the exhibitor tables. "Yeah, actually, it looks like she's talking with Dr. Bowman at the moment."

"Okay, thank you."

"No problem."

As the woman walked away, Matt turned his head so he could listen in on the conversation.

"...So glad you could be here," Dr. Bowman was saying. "We really appreciate you taking time to come out and speak with our students and their parents."

"It's no problem, Dr. Bowman," the other voice replied. "I'm always happy to promote the library's services."

Matt sucked in a breath. It *is* her. 

Even after all the years that had passed since he had last spent time with Y/N he had never forgotten the sound of her voice, the times he had sat listening to her read to him still among his favorite memories.

Y/N and Dr. Bowman were wrapping up their conversation, so Matt stood and headed over towards them.

Either Y/N didn't notice that Matt was behind her or Matt had misjudged the distance between them, but Y/N turned around and bumped into him.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, sir, I--" Y/N gasped. "Wait, Matty?"

"It's just 'Matt' now, but yeah. Hi, angel." Matt was surprised at how easily his old nickname for Y/N slipped from his lips.

"Oh my God, hi!" Y/N wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "How are you? What are you doing here? Are you a teacher?"

Matt chuckled as he returned her embrace. "I'm well. I don't teach here, I'm actually one of the featured speakers."

"Oh, wow, that's wonderful."

"What about you? How have you been?"

"I'm well too, yeah. Oh my God, this is so crazy. Are you still in New York?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, still in Hell's Kitchen. You know me, I'm loyal to my city. What about you?" 

"Yeah, Florida was okay, but New York is home. I'm actually in Midtown West now, so I'm not far." Y/N paused. "Hey, would you want to maybe grab dinner or a drink or something after this is done, and I dunno, like, catch up? It's totally fine if you can't, I just thought maybe --"

Matt quickly shook his head. "No, no, yeah, I'd love to."

"Great! I'll have to run back by the library to drop all of my stuff off but I can meet you wherever after that."

Matt thought for a moment. "You still like Italian?"

Y/N let out a light laugh. "Of course."

"Then how about Bellissima Italia, over on 9th and 44th? That's near there, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great."

"Will 6:00 work for you? I'll make a reservation."

"That would be perfect. Here, let me give you my number in case something unexpected comes up. It probably won't, but then again, this is New York -- you never know what kind of craziness is going to happen next."

Matt chuckled and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "That's very true."

He created a new contact and typed in Y/N's name, then added her number once Y/N recited it to him.

He hit the button to call her, hanging up after Y/N's phone began to buzz in her pocket. "There, now you have mine."

"Awesome. I have to get to my table, but I'll see you tonight?"

Matt nodded as the doors opened and people began to trickle in. "Yeah, definitely. See you tonight, Y/N." 

"Bye, Matt."

Wow, what are the odds? Matt thought as Y/N walked back over to her table. 

He pulled his phone back out and headed back into the hallway to make their reservation, then called Foggy.

"Yo, Matt, what's up?" Foggy said in greeting.

"Hey, Foggy, do you remember me telling you about Y/N back when we were in college?"

"Y/N, as in Y/N, your childhood friend from the orphanage who you talked about non-stop and are still hung up on 16 years later Y/N? 'The one that got away' Y/N? That Y/N?"

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, that Y/N. Well, I actually just ran into her. It turns out she's a librarian at the Heiskell Library and is here promoting their library services, so we made plans to have dinner and catch up after this is over."

"Oh, wow, that's actually really awesome, dude. You said she works at the Heiskell Library?" 

Matt could hear Foggy sit down at his desk and start typing on his computer keyboard. "Yeah."

After a moment, Foggy said, "Damn it."

"What is it?"

"I knew she was gonna be hot!"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Did you seriously just Google her?"

"I wanted to see what she looks like! You're a hot woman magnet, so of course your old childhood friend is hot. Is she single? Because if you change your mind about her…"

Matt just chuckled. "Not gonna happen. If I even remotely still have a shot with Y/N, I'm taking it." 

"Eh, I was just kidding anyway. Good luck tonight, man. Hope she's everything you remember her being and more."

"Thanks, Fog. I'll talk to you later."

"'Kay. Bye, Matt."

Matt hung up and headed back inside, both excited and nervous to catch up with Y/N later that evening.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt smoothed down his hair for what seemed like the tenth time as he arrived at the restaurant for his catch-up dinner with Y/N. 

He took a deep breath and headed inside.

"Buonasera," the seating host said. "Welcome to Bellissima Italia. How many in your party, sir?"

"Actually, I have a reservation for two at 6, under 'Murdock'," Matt replied. 

"Ah, yes, sir. Your companion's already arrived. Right this way."

Matt followed the seating host to where Y/N sat.

"Matt, you made it," Y/N said, standing and giving Matt a hug.

She had changed from the blouse and slacks she had worn earlier into a silk dress that hugged her form, and underneath the subtly floral perfume she wore was her familiar natural scent that had never failed to relax Matt when he was overwhelmed. Even now he could feel his nervous energy starting to calm.

He returned her embrace. "Hi."

"Joseph will be your server tonight," the host said as they sat. "If you need anything let us know."

"Thank you."

Matt folded up his cane and stuck it in his jacket pocket. "I hope you haven't had to wait long."

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago."

Their server walked up to their table. "Good evening, my name is Joseph and I'll be taking care of you. What can I get you to drink?"

"Can I get a glass of Pinot Grigio and a water?" Y/N said.

"Certainly, ma'am. And for you, sir?"

"I'll take a glass of Merlot and a water as well, thanks."

"Okay, certainly. I'll get that taken care of for you while you get a chance to look over the menu."

"Do you know what you want, or do you want me to read the menu to you?" Y/N asked as Joseph left.

"Actually if you don't mind telling me what's on the menu I'd really appreciate it," Matt replied. "I didn't get a chance to check it out before I came."

"No, it's not a problem at all." Y/N picked up her menu. "Let's see…"

Matt listened intently as Y/N quickly read the menu off to him. He nodded. "Okay, thanks. I think I know what I want."

A few moments later Joseph returned with their drinks. "Okay, here you are. And are we ready to order?"

Matt nodded. "I'm ready. Y/N, you want to go ahead?"

"Yes, I'd like the gnocchi in cream sauce, please," Y/N said. 

"Okay, and for you, sir?"

"I'll take the chicken parmigiana, thanks." Matt picked up his menu and handed it to Joseph.

"Okay, I'll put those in for you right away."

"Wow, I still can't believe this," Y/N said as Joseph left once again. "It's been, what, almost 20 years?"

Matt nodded with a grin. "Yeah, something like that. And even after all this time, you still look exactly the same."

Y/N laughed. "I'm glad to know that you haven't lost your sense of humor."

She took a sip of water. "So, catch me up on the past 20 years."

Matt shrugged. "Not much to tell. Left St. Agnes at 18, went to Columbia and got a law degree, opened my own practice with my college roommate, and that's about it." Except for the fact that I also became a crime-fighting vigilante, sent a mob boss to jail, and took down a secret organization of ninjas.

"Not married, no kids?"

Matt shook his head. "No, never found the right person." Because I already had found her but was too much of a coward to tell her how I felt before she left. "What about you? What have you been up to?"

"Finished high school in Florida, got my bachelor's degree in sociology, did my MLIS, and became a librarian. Did five years as a special services librarian in Florida, two in Indiana, then I managed to get on with the Heiskell Library and have been there ever since."

"No marriage or kids for you either?"

"No kids, almost got married once but it didn't work out. Wasn't anyone's fault, we just weren't right for each other."

Matt nodded. "How's your aunt?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's still in Florida so I talk to her every few days. Wait till I tell her I ran into you."

Matt gave a wry smile. "I dunno if she'll be happy about that. She didn't like me."

"What do you mean she didn't like you? She didn't even know you."

"She didn't have to. She had heard enough about me from Sister Bernadette to form an opinion."

"Ugh. Sister Bernadette. She did always seem to have it out for you."

Matt shrugged. "Well, in all fairness, I was kind of a troublemaker."

Y//N laughed. "Yeah, but I was usually right there with you in whatever trouble you were making, if not starting the trouble myself."

Matt grinned and took a sip of his wine. "You mean like the time we stole that bottle of Communion wine out of the church storeroom?"

Y/N laughed. "You know, that was the first thing I mentioned during confession after I started going to church in Florida. Seal of Confession or not, I wasn't about to confess to Father Reynolds about it."

Matt grinned. "Afraid of a harsher penance?"

"Yes! It was bad enough having to say five Acts of Contrition and three Our Fathers that time I punched Bobby Neyland in the face for tripping you in the hall. I had already gotten detention and I had to apologize to him, what more did they want?"

They were interrupted by Joseph bringing their dinners. "Alrighty, we have the gnocchi over here, and the chicken parmigiana here. Careful, those plates are hot. Is there anything else I can get you two?"

"No, I think we're fine," Y/N replied. "Matt?"

Matt shook his head. "We're good for now."

"Okay, let me know if you need anything else."

"Will do."

"Anyway," Y/N said, "we weren't always getting into trouble. Most of the time we were perfect little angels."

Matt chuckled. "I think your memory is faulty. You may have been an angel, but I certainly wasn't."

"We did have some good times together though, didn't we, Matty?"

Matt nodded, the quiet times he got to spend with Y/N floating through his mind. "Yeah, we certainly did."

The conversation continued to flow easily as Matt and Y/N reminisced about their childhood, and the next thing Matt knew dinner was over.

"Will that be one check or two?" Joseph asked as he cleared their plates.

"Just the one check, thanks," Matt said, handing Joseph his credit card before Y/N could protest.

"Next time, I'm paying," Y/N replied as Joseph went to go take care of the bill.

Matt grinned, thrilled that Y/N had even mentioned a 'next time'. "Deal."

He signed the check once Joseph returned for the last time, then unfolded his cane as he and Y/N stood. "May I walk you home?"

He could almost hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she replied. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." 

Matt extended his arm. "Then shall we?"

They left the restaurant together, the ease and familiarity they once shared still there.

"So, what made you decide to become a librarian?" Matt asked as they headed towards Y/N's apartment building. "Last I knew you wanted to go out and save the world by becoming a big-time CEO of a Fortune 500 company."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Um, well, actually, it was you." 

Matt's eyebrows raised. "Me?"

"Yeah. When it was time to start thinking about college I spoke to my guidance counselor and told her about how my best friend was visually impaired and how I'd sit and read print books to him because there weren't any Braille or audiobooks in the orphanage where we grew up, and so she told me about how there were actually special library services for people with visual impairments and that maybe I should look into special services librarianship since I seemed called to that."

"And do you like it?"

"Yeah, more than anything. Like a lot of people might think that being a librarian is boring or an obsolete job, but you should talk to some of my patrons, Matt. They're all alone with no family or friends nearby, so listening to these audiobooks are the only things that they have to do all day. It's actually kind of heartbreaking."

Matt nodded with a soft smile. Y/N really was an angel.

"And I know I'm not like, saving lives or changing the world or anything," Y/N continued, "like by being a doctor or by helping innocent people who've been wrongfully accused of crimes like you and your partner, but I feel like I'm at least helping people in my own way, you know?"

Matt turned towards Y/N as they stopped at a crosswalk. "You think you haven't saved lives? 'Angel' wasn't just a nickname, sweetheart. You befriended a lonely, scared, angry little boy with absolutely zero fucks given as to what anyone else thought, and to this day I'm still so damn grateful for whatever made you see me and decide, 'Yes, that one. I want him as my best friend'."

Y/N let out a watery laugh. "Honestly, it wasn't a tough decision. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be way cooler than everyone else."

Matt smiled softly. "You were my guardian angel, Y/N. I certainly wouldn't have made it without you."

He reached up and gently swiped his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the tears that had collected there. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah."

Matt slipped his hand into Y/N's and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

They continued on their way to Y/N's apartment, Y/N seemingly as reluctant to let go of Matt's hand as he was to let go of hers.

"What about you?" Y/N asked. "What drew you to law?"

"I want to fight injustice and keep Hell's Kitchen safe, protect the people I care about," Matt said simply. "Going through the legal system seemed the best way to do that at the time."

"And now?"

"What?"

"You said 'at the time'. What's the best way now?"

Being Daredevil, Matt wanted to say. Protecting those I can't protect through the law. 

He shook his head. "I just know that everything's not as black-and-white with the legal system as I once thought."

"Yeah, I get that." Y/N slowed down as they reached her apartment building. "This is me."

Matt nodded. "I'm really glad we found each other again."

"I am too -- I've missed you so much, Matt. I tried to write to you after I moved but all of my letters came back 'return to sender'. Eventually I realized that they were returning my letters, but by that time it was too late, and it's not like I could just call up Sister Bernadette and ask for your forwarding address."

Matt shook his head. "I knew it. I knew something weird was going on. I could tell she was lying whenever I asked her if I had any mail from you."

"I still have them."

"The letters you wrote me?"

"Yeah, they're in a box in my closet."

"Can I read them?"

"Yeah, sure. You want me to go get them or do you want to come up for a drink and we can read them together?"

Matt nodded. "A drink would be nice." More time I can spend with you.

"Okay, then. Come on in."

Y/N led Matt through the lobby to the elevator and up to her apartment. "Make yourself at home," she said as she unlocked her door. "Living room is straight ahead, just mind the coffee table when you go around the couch to sit."

Matt sat while Y/N moved around her kitchen. "What's your preference?" Y/N asked. "I have wine, hard cider, amaretto, whiskey, rum…"

"Whiskey is fine. On the rocks."

He could hear Y/N adding ice to a couple of glasses then opening a couple of bottles, then smelled the scent of sweet & sour mix. "Let me guess. Amaretto sour for yourself?"

Y/N paused in her pouring. "How'd you know?"

"I can hear the difference in the shape of the bottles, and I can smell the sweet & sour."

"You're good." Y/N closed the bottles and put the sweet & sour mix back in her refrigerator. 

She handed Matt his glass before setting hers down on the coffee table. "Here you go. Give me just a second, I'll go grab the letters."

Matt took a sip of his whiskey as Y/N retreated to her bedroom.

She returned momentarily with a box. "Ok so remember, I was 16 when I started writing these, so don't judge me if they're cringy."

Matt chuckled. "I won't, I promise."

Y/N opened the box and handed him a manila envelope. "Here, start with this one. I'm pretty sure they're still in the order I wrote them."

Matt opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of Braille paper. "Can you still read Braille?" he asked.

"Yep, can still write in it too, although Braille printers make everything a lot easier these days."

Matt set the piece of paper on the coffee table and began to read aloud. 

"September 30, 2002

Dear Matty,

Just got settled in at Aunt Ruth's house. My bedroom here is as big as both of ours at St. Agnes combined. 

Hoping I can convince Aunt Ruth to let you come visit soon, maybe during Thanksgiving?

By the way, my address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Y/N"

Y/N snorted. "Yeah, 'I'm sure you'll be able to get away from the orphanage for a week or so to come hang out with your bestie in Florida!' Man, was I naive."

Matt shook his head. "You didn't know. Neither of us could've known that they'd actually try to keep us apart."

Y/N picked up the next envelope. "Here, I'll read the next one."

Matt nodded. "Okay."

"October 21, 2002," Y/N began.

Dear Matty,

I must've done something wrong with the postage on my first letter, because it came back marked return to sender. Adding double to make sure this gets to you.

Aunt Ruth wants me to join some after-school clubs, make some new friends. I don't want *new* friends, though. I just want you.

Speaking of making new friends, you know that song 'make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold'?  Well, it's not true. You're way more precious to me than gold. You're more like… I don't know, the rarest and most precious substance on earth, whatever that may be.

Anyway, address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190. Write me back!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt picked up the next envelope. "November 12, 2002.

Dear Matty,

Another letter came back return to sender. Don't quite know what I'm doing wrong, but hopefully this one reaches you!

School has been okay. Don't think I told you yet, but Aunt Ruth enrolled me in some fancy all-girls Catholic school. I'm really enjoying English class. We're reading The Crucible. Maybe next time we're together I'll read it to you. Think you'd like it.

Anyway, hope you're doing okay. I miss you.

Always,

Y/N"

Y/N laughed. "You know, my offer to read The Crucible to you still stands."

Matt grinned. "In that case I might have to take you up on it. You're still my favorite audiobook narrator."

He could hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she began to read her next letter. 

"January 10th, 2003.

Dear Matty (or is it just Matt now that you're the big 1-8?),

Happy birthday! I wish I could be there with you to celebrate. I wanted to surprise you and come visit, but Aunt Ruth said no. (Party pooper.)

I hope your day is amazing and that you get everything you wish for, because you deserve it! *Heart*

Miss you like crazy and I really hope to hear from you soon!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt shrugged. "My 18th birthday was fine, nothing overly special." I didn't get my wish, but now I know why.

He cleared his throat. "April 6, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I don't know if I did something wrong before I left and you're mad at me or if I'm just that inept at mailing a letter, but I just got a bunch of letters back unopened again. I really hope it's the latter because if it's the first, I don't know what I did but whatever it is, I'm sorry. Just please talk to me. I want my best friend back.

Y/N"

Matt's heart broke. Damn them. Damn them all to Hell for making Y/N think she could ever do something to make me not want her in my life. 

He finished his glass of whiskey before picking up the next letter.

"Want a refill?" Y/N asked.

Matt nodded. "Sure."

Y/N stood and went to make them each another drink while Matt read the next letter aloud.

"September 3, 2003

Dear Matt,

I don't even know why I'm still trying. You're 18 now, I'm sure you're not even at St. Agnes anymore. You're probably off to college and have made fancy new college friends, so even if this letter somehow reached you you probably wouldn't respond anyway, but I wanted to tell you goodbye anyway and to wish you good luck.

Y/N"

Matt's brow furrowed. "But there's more letters."

"Yeah." Y/N sounded hesitant as she set Matt's drink down on the table. "I never sent any of the rest though."

She picked up the next one. "December 9, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I'm sitting here in English class (well, not now since I'm writing this in Braille instead of standard print) and our bell assignment today was to write a letter to someone who is no longer in our lives. I'm sure the point is probably to write to someone who's dead, but whatever, I'll write to whomever the hell I want.

Aunt Ruth finally told me the truth: that St. Agnes had been returning your letters to me before you even got them. Needless to say, I'm furious. I don't understand why they would go to such lengths to keep us apart, or why Aunt Ruth would even agree to it.

I hope you don't think I never tried to get in touch with you, because the thought of you believing that I would just abandon you like that tears me up inside.

I miss you, Matt, and I hope you're doing well.

Y/N" 

Matt shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I hate that you ever even had to think that I would ignore your letters."

Y/N reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault."

They continued reading, Y/N telling him about getting into college, the classes she was taking each semester, graduation, getting into grad school and getting her library science degree, her first job as an official librarian… 

Y/N took a sip of her cocktail before starting the next letter.

"March 8, 2012

Dear Matt,

I've met someone . His name is Alex and he works in the I.T. department of the library. I think you two would get along -- you're a lot alike.

We've been dating for a few months now and things are going pretty well. I'll keep you posted as to where things lead.

Y/N"

Matt picked up the second-to-last letter. 

"January 13, 2013

Dear Matt,

Alex proposed, and I said yes. We're planning a fall wedding -- nothing big, just close family and friends.

I wish you could be there. I thought about asking Alex if he could look you up on the internet to see if he could find an address for you. Could you imagine? We haven't been in contact in over 10 years and suddenly you get an invitation to my wedding.

Crazy, right?

Y/N"

Even though Matt knew that things didn't work out between Y/N and her ex-fiancé, his stomach was still in knots as Y/N began to read her final letter.

"June 29, 2013

Dear Matt,

I ended my engagement with Alex today. We were touring wedding venues over the weekend but none of them felt right, and I realized this morning that it wasn't the venues that felt wrong, it was me.

You see, I can't marry Alex, not when-- " Y/N paused and took a deep breath.   "Not when I've been in love with you for most of my life."

Matt's brain screeched to a halt. What did she just say? 

"God, I'm so pathetic," Y/N continued, "pining over someone to whom I haven't even spoken in years. It's not fair to Alex to marry someone who's in love with another man and it's not fair to myself to keep holding on to something that I can never have. 

I guess I've kept writing to you in order to somehow hold on to you and to feel like we were still teenagers writing secret notes to each other, like maybe one day I'd have the courage to finally tell you how I feel.

I'll always love you, Matt, but maybe it's time for me to finally let you go.

Y/N"

Matt turned towards Y/N, who had picked up her drink and was currently draining it. "You were in love with me?"

Y/N remained silent, but the uptick in her heartbeat gave Matt hope. 

He took her glass from her and set it down on the table before taking her hand in his. "Y/N? Please, angel, talk to me."

Y/N took a deep breath. "I still am, Matt. I still love you. I never stopped."

Oh, thank God. "I love you too," Matt murmured. "I've loved you probably since the moment I met you, it just took me a few years to figure out what it was I was feeling." 

He pulled out the cross Y/N had given him out from under his shirt. "I've always kept you close to my heart, Y/N."

Y/N reached out and placed her hand on his chest, warming the metal cross pressing against Matt's shirt. "I was wondering if you still had that."

Matt nodded. "I've rarely taken it off in the past 20 years." 

He paused. "I was going to tell you I loved you the day you left for Florida. I had written you a note telling you how I felt."

"Why didn't you give it to me?"

"Right before I was going to I overheard Sister Bernadette talking to your aunt about how it was best to separate us so I wouldn't ruin your life, and I realized it definitely wasn't fair for me to tell you I loved you right before you moved a thousand miles away."

"What the hell? How would you have ruined my life?"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Well, let's see, the exact phrasing she used was 'before he gets her into trouble'."

"Before you 'got me into trouble'? Wait, did she -- did she think we were sleeping together ?" Y/N sounded both horrified and amused.

Matt shrugged. "Well, she wouldn't have technically been wrong."

"Well no, but all we ever did was literally sleep together!"

"Maybe, but it's not like I never thought about doing the other kind of sleeping together with you."

Y/N gave a playfully scandalized gasp. "Why, Matthew, I certainly hope you went to confession for that."

"More than once." Matt chuckled. "I mean, I was a hormonal teenage boy who was hopelessly in love with my best friend, of course my thoughts drifted there from time to time."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. "I wonder if maybe someone saw you sneaking out of my room one morning and reported us, and that's why Sister Bernadette thought something was going on. She could've confronted us though instead of just shipping me off and keeping us apart for almost 20 years. So much wasted time, and over what was probably a complete misunderstanding."

Matt shook his head. "Angel?"

"Yeah, Matty?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."

Y/N sucked in a breath. "Uh huh, yeah, okay."

Matt reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, then -- after over 20 years of longing -- gently pressed his lips to hers.

He leaned back, a smile spreading on his face as he caressed the matching smile on Y/N's with his thumb. "So, how about dinner again tomorrow night?"

Y/N hummed. "What, you don't want to lose touch for another 20 years and hope we randomly run into each other again?"

Matt shook his head with a laugh at Y/N's teasing tone. "No way, angel. I spent almost 20 years without you, so now that I've got you back in my life I'm not letting go."

[catholic-saint-tournament]

The List So Far & Link to Current Polls (BELOW)

OKAY. This is what I've done. I've made this handy-dandy Google Doc listing all the saints that have been nominated, along with the category of bracket they'd be put into. I've purposefully left off the number of nominations to keep you on your toes. If you see a saint already on the list, you can submit propaganda for them! I'll consider that an additional vote. If you don't see a saint on the list and you want them, I'll add it and then update my tally :)

I'm pinning this post, the old pinned post with the rules can be found here.

also my apologies for spamming you with posts but it IS a tournament and I've got over 100 messages in my ask box (LOVE THE ENTHUSIASM KEEP IT UP)

EDITED TO ADD:

New categories:

Folk/Traditional - folk saints, saints who have legendary hagiographies, or saints who didn't go through the formal canonization process (e.g. the apostles and many early martyrs)

Pre-Schism - saints born/lived before 1054

Post-Schism - saints born/lived after 1054

Modern - 1800s (ish) to today

Beatified - not formally canonized by the Church yet. Servants of God, Blesseds, Venerables, etc.

LINKS TO PAST POLLS

FOLK/TRADITIONAL SAINTS - ROUND ONE (poll over)

FOLK/TRADITIONAL SAINTS - ROUND 1 WINNERS/ROUND 2 BRACKET (poll over)

FOLK/TRADITIONAL SAINTS - ROUND 2 WINNERS/ROUND 3 BRACKET (poll over)

FOLK/TRADITIONAL SAINTS - ROUND 3 WINNERS/ROUND 4 BRACKET (poll over)

FOLK/TRADITIONAL SAINTS - ROUND 4 WINNERS/ROUND 5 BRACKET (poll over)

WINNER OF FOLK/TRADITIONAL BRACKET: ST MARY MAGDALENE

PRE-SCHISM BRACKET ROUND 1 (poll over)

PRE-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 1 WINNERS/ROUND 2 BRACKET (poll over)

PRE-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 2 WINNERS/ROUND 3 BRACKET (poll over)

PRE-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 3 WINNERS/ROUND 4 BRACKET (poll over)

PRE-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 4 WINNERS/ROUND 5 BRACKET (FINAL ROUND) (poll over)

WINNER OF THE PRE-SCHISM BRACKET: ST BARBARA

POST-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 1 (poll over)

POST-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 1 WINNERS/ROUND 2 BRACKET (poll over)

POST-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 2 WINNERS/ROUND 3 BRACKET (poll over)

POST-SCHISM SAINTS ROUND 3 WINNERS/ROUND 4 BRACKET (poll over)

WINNER OF THE POST-SCHISM BRACKET: ST JOAN OF ARC

MODERN SAINTS ROUND 1 (poll over)

MODERN SAINTS ROUND 1 WINNERS/ROUND 2 BRACKET (poll over)

MODERN SAINTS ROUND 2 WINNERS/ROUND 3 BRACKET (poll over)

MODERN SAINTS ROUND 3 WINNERS/ROUND 4 BRACKET (poll over)

WINNER OF THE MODERN BRACKET: ST THERESE OF LISIEUX

BONUS POLLS

non saint related polls:

Best Holy Day of Obligation

Best Catholic Religious Order

Best Catholic Sacrament

Rosary Polls

Best 20th Century Pope

Best Gospel

Best Papal Encyclical

Best Apostle

Best Fruit of the Holy Spirit

Best Liturgical Season

Best Liturgical Color

Best Book of the Pentateuch/Torah

[mywingsareonwheels]

Modern technology/works/understanding/etc. I'd like to give "Endeavour" characters...

Morse: noise-cancelling headphones, an mp3 player with a huge amount of opera on it, non-alcoholic real ales (St Peter's Without, the alcohol-free Doom Bar, etc.), a subscription to medici.tv, awareness of Joyce DiDonato's voice. Shadi Bartsch's translation of The Aeneid. Awareness of ADHD and autism as Relevant To Him and some suitable online community. Also some therapy but that goes without saying...

Fred Thursday: Fred. <3 awareness of PTSD and C-PTSD as A Thing and both being relevant in his case (from the war & work and his childhood respectively) even more therapy than Morse needs. All those youtube channels with 24/7 livestreams of various wildlife. The complete works of Terry Pratchett. I'm almost tempted to say fandom spaces because the gentler of them might actually appeal to him a lot.

Max Debryn: more recent medical knowledge. Modern queer community including the more awesome online bits. The work of recently rediscovered composers such as Barbara Strozzi and Joseph Bologne. Possibly Carol Ann Duffy's poetry. Elly Griffiths' "Ruth Galloway" novels if he fancies a busman's holiday read. ;-) Other than that I think he has more to teach us than the other way around. :-)

Peter Jakes: see Fred re: PTSD and C-PTSD awareness and a huge amount of therapy. I'm tempted to add at least the option of more recent help with giving up smoking given a lot more is understood these days. A Netflix subscription and an excellent gaming system. Instant messenger things so he can keep in touch with Oxford friends while in the US.

Joan Thursday: an environment in which it's more usual for women to not give up their jobs on marriage (or not get married at all). A lot of more recent folk rock, singer-songwriter, pop, and indie music might hit the spot for her to add to what she already loves. Yet more therapy. An awesome community of intersectional feminists. The complete works of bell hooks.

Win Thursday: oh Win. Therapy, the Open University. Really good couples therapy with Fred because they clearly love each other so much but *boy* do they fuck up towards each other (mostly him, but not only him). Instant messenger for better keeping in touch with everyone. An air fryer.

Sam Thursday: more therapy, and addiction help. Anger management help. Oh bless him. <3

Reginald Bright: grief counselling, instant messenger, Abir Mukherjee's detective novels, online ordering of Indian groceries, places online to put his art and get it fully admired, and then instant messenger once he moves back to India.

Jim Strange: honestly? he's the only one who seems to weirdly thrive in the time he lives. But I *would* like to throw intersectional feminist, LGBT+ and anti-racism literature at him to help avoid his less admirable moments. And actually some online community (fandom even?) so he has more people to bond with that aren't at the Lodge or at work...

[sci-firenegade]

According to the Companions book, this was a thing.

Also, if anyone who has read Doctor Who Magazine 233, apparently there's reference to this on that issue.

Transcription:

"One nice touch which nevermade it to the screen was the planned inclusion of two passers-by as Dodo enters the TARDIS. As the ship dematerialised, they were to have turned and been revealed as Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright. Although this scene was included in the story's filming schedule, it was not filmed for reasons unknown."

Also, transcribed from

"It had been hoped that William Russell and Jacqueline Hill might make cameo appearances as former companions Ian and Barbara on this day; hearing the TARDIS dematerialising, they would have just missed seeing it as it disappeared. In the event, the pair were replaced with a woman (played by Marguerite Young) walking her dog."

This would've been so cool.