#the last time i used this app was a year and nine days ago

[candlestiick-dot-zip]

cha cha real smooth

[justanotherblonde]

it's sasodei week 2024!

i have precisely one thing to contribute, but ffs it's not done yet grr!! maybe we can blame my dog... she demanded i come play with her no less than nine times (i kept track) as i wrote this post (she does this by shouting at me then humping my leg to show me who's boss, sometimes pulling on my sweater sleeve with her sharp li'l teefs, beagles, man, i tell ya...) 🐶

anyway!! here's a TEASER of my Day 3 Band/Rockstar/Idol AU story ahhhhh!!! it's not even titled yet!!!!! i don't even really know what the tags will be! and i haven't had time to make a header image!! 😫

but this i know, oh this i know:

Sasori is first chair cello of the Sunagakure Philharmonic

He has a dirty little secret hobby: listening to metal (among other genres that are definitely not classical)

One of the bands he listens to is called C4

Guess who's the lead singer???

Yes, you guessed it, it's Deidara, singer/song-writer, perhaps much more...

In this AU, everybody lives!! Well... okay fine, Sasori's parents still didn't make it, i'm sorry

But that means two important things: Third Kazekage is alive! And there are a LOT of Uchiha running around.

There's more, a lot more, but you'll have to wait until i steal more minutes and hours from my dog and my work! but i'll give it to ya, come hell or high water! or wildfires, earthquakes, debilitating PM 2.5 ratings, or uh... dare i say... another pandemic??? FEAR NOT!

if you want to wait for the full thing to drop to read, i've left the teaser excerpt below the cut.

a million thanks to @sasodeiweek for hosting this event and encouraging us SasoDei creators to flex our creative muscles! loving all the contributions so far!

and without further ado...

Rehearsal ran circles round Sasori’s ears. The music followed him always, all hours.

Chapter 1

Rehearsal ran circles round Sasori’s ears. The music followed him always, all hours.

The fine, agile fingers of his left hand twitched; his right hand swayed side to side, marking the strokes of his bow. Eyes half-closed, his feet kept time on the pavement as he walked. It was Haydn this week, Cello Concerto No. 1 in C major. A weighty yet familiar responsibility for Sasori, first chair cello of the Sunagakure Philharmonic.

He sighed. Rehearsal had wrapped half an hour ago. He was on his way home, and tomorrow was a rest day. He didn’t need to torture himself like this. 

The headphones around his neck were a comforting weight, as friendly and intimate as the straps of his cello case on his shoulders. He flipped them over his ears and dug in his coat pocket for his phone. Scrolling through the saved playlists on his music app, he skipped all of the classical “homework” and went straight for his guilty pleasures: dance-pop, glam-rock, musicals… and heavy metal. 

No one at work knew about his low, low tastes.

Well, the Third had known. 

Sasori gritted his teeth, biting back unbidden memories. Now he definitely needed to blast his brain clean with some noise. 

Something heavy.

Something loud.

Something to transport him far away from the sand-scraped streets of Sunagakure.

His thumb landed on the album he was looking for.

Art is an EXPLOSION by C4. Track 1: “Light It Up.”

From that first haunting guitar chord, the tension Sasori held in his chest and face dispersed. He rode that twisting whine down, down… someplace dark and cool, far beneath the earth. As the barreling drums built to a crescendo, he held his breath—wait for it!—

A million years, through timeless stone I’m damned to walk this path alone This darkness, all I’ve ever known…

The lead singer had a deep, melodic voice. He molded each word of the verse carefully, tenderly, as if he were embarking on a ballad… then WHAM!

Cymbals crashed; the roaring chorus caught the last two notes of an electrifying riff like a surfer hopping a wave:

Light it up! Hey, light it up! Strike a match and light it up! My fuse is short, ’m ready to blow, Crush the ceiling down to the floor!

Not in a million years would Sasori admit out loud to anyone that he listened to C4, especially not now that the public were actually aware of their existence. The metal band had catapulted to fame last year with their single “Burn Down All the Discos,” but Sasori had been listening to them well before that. Three years ago, his music app had recommended him a track from Art is an EXPLOSION—C4’s debut album—based on his eclectic streaming history. 

If the first song Sasori had heard by C4 had been anything but “Artist,” he’d probably never have given them a chance: their usual sound was, on the surface, sloppy, and most of the lyrics were childish boasts. “Look at me!” their vocalist seemed to say in every song. 

But “Artist” was different. It was, inexplicably, an up-tempo perversion of Vivaldi’s Winter Largo in F Minor, lamenting how hard it was to live for art’s sake when the world ran on money and heroic virtue. Listeners without classical training would be unable to appreciate or likely even identify the subtleties of what had been done with the classical score, but the first time he heard it, Sasori had been riveted. Vivaldi’s rhythmic harpsichord had been replaced with a softly tapped snare drum; a mournful electric guitar carried the melody when it wasn’t sung. 

Curiosity piqued, Sasori had investigated the rest of the album, and found similar nods to classical music throughout the tracks, much harder to notice than the adapted Vivaldi, drowned as they were in a thunderstorm of electric guitar and percussion. C4 were more than just a metal band: they experimented with typical traits of the genre and also drew from pop rock, classical music, even musical theatre to create a sound unlike anything Sasori had ever heard. They broke all the rules and they did it with glee.

One day—a rest day—home alone and bored, Sasori had looked up the band online. It surprised him to learn that the lead singer had been only sixteen when the band was formed. That powerful voice certainly didn’t sound like it belonged to a teenager. But the band’s website was light on biographical information, and Sasori hadn’t felt like digging deeper. An overwhelming amount of fan sites and social media accounts had sprung up since “Burn Down All the Discos” and C4’s world tour. Bored as he was that day, Sasori wasn’t about to use his precious free time to obsess over some flash-in-the-pan rock band, especially one fronted by a kid.

And yet, he still listened to them.

“Artist” often competed for the position of most frequently-played song on his app, but only when he was feeling particularly moody. 

It crossed his mind that he ought to check if C4 had come out with anything new lately—the app usually sent a message when artists he’d followed released new music. Pausing to wait for a traffic light, he dug for his phone again.

Lo and behold, a new album had dropped not three days ago.

Beauty of a Moment, it was called. The cover art featured the Venus de Milo... mid-explosion.

Sasori chuckled under his breath. “He really does fancy himself an artist, doesn’t he…” 

What a fool. Popular music was not art. Rock music was not art. It came and went, but the classics stayed. For centuries. Forever.

It was the one thing Sasori and the Third had always agreed on, despite all of their differences. 

Speaking of which… 

...

[canonicallyobserving911]

Seven Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

FANON speculation for season 7

Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” 

Chapter 10 will be posted soon.

I’m excited to finish writing Chapter 10 because a lot is happening and there's still more to come. At the end of Chapter 9, Buck and Eddie were trying to cope with everything that happened during and after Jonah's criminal trial. At the end of day two, Buck had a major panic attack, he asked Eddie to get him out of the courthouse and Eddie drove them home instead of taking Buck back to the loft. Then Buck scheduled an emergency therapy appointment with Dr. Copeland and later that night, after Chris and Buck were already asleep, Eddie spent time trying to decide if he should make an emergency appointment with Frank instead of scheduling one with his new therapist, Dr. Theresa because Frank's a trauma therapist and she's not. He was strongly considering it since both him and Buck were faced yet again with additional ramifications from the shooting.

___________

As a continuation of my WIP Wednesday, here’s a little more of Buck’s conversation with Rhett and Eddie’s conversation with Bertie.

___________

Buck

“Now… if you swipe to the left, I think… well it’s either left or right who knows with all this new fandangle technology… you’ll see a picture of me and my husband.”

Buck swipes left in the photos app and he sees Rhett in a photo with a very handsome man.  If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a picture of him and Eddie because the man in the picture standing next to Rhett has dark hair, brown eyes and olive skin just like Eddie.

“You have a beautiful family.”  Buck says as he hands Rhett’s phone back to him.

“Yeah, we did.  Me and Ray…”  Rhett chuckles then continues.  “His real name was Raymundo but after he left his parents’ house, he wouldn’t let anyone call him that anymore.  We didn’t get married until nine years ago but by that time… we’d already been together for more than forty years.  Even though we didn’t need a piece of paper to tell us how much we loved each other, we wanted it… so we had a small wedding in our backyard with our son and his family.  Getting married also allowed me to change my last name from Quinn to Dominquez… it’s on our marriage license and it’s still hanging up in our home today.  I looked at it before I left to come here.”

Buck’s hit with another realization because he knows he’s been wanting to marry Eddie for years but he’s still not sure Eddie wants him so he tucks the little hope he has back into the corner of his heart.

“You didn’t want to keep your last name?”

“No, I didn’t because the last name Quinn didn’t hold anything but hurt and pain for me.  I grew up in an ok family but my parents weren’t ready to be a mom and a dad and I suppose, it affected how emotionally detached they were.  I don’t blame them for it anymore but finally being able to take my husband’s last name after 40 years of us being together was the best because me, him and our son all had the same last name.”

Buck nods his head because the last name Buckley certainly doesn’t mean shit to him anymore.  That’s Phillip’s last name not his and he’s been trying to figure out what he should change it to.  Diaz has a nice ring to it but he’d have to marry Eddie first for that to happen and since he hasn’t told him how he feels, he doesn’t think it ever will.

Where is Buck?  Also, who is Rhett and why is he telling Buck about his life?

_____

Eddie

After they leave the hospital and they get back inside of the ambulance, it only takes Bertie a few seconds to mention something about Loni.

She closes the driver’s side door, looks at Eddie then says, “She lives on the outskirts of Los Angeles and if anything ever happens to the solitary road that leads to her house, no one will be able to get to her”.

He shrugs his shoulders then says, “Well… she said she likes living out there and she likes the peace and quiet”.

“Yeah, she did say that and she also said the reason why she did it was because she figured she wouldn’t find love again.  So, maybe her decision to live all the way out in an area of Los Angeles that resembles ‘Death Valley’ wasn’t completely about her desire to live in peace and quiet.”

She turns her head to crank the ambulance, then she looks over at Eddie again.  “Some people choose to be alone while others feel like it’s their only option.  Neither choice is wrong but if someone doesn’t want to die alone, they don’t have to”.

Almost immediately after the words leave Bertie’s lips, Eddie feels like someone is screaming at him even though he’ll never admit it’s the universe.  Over the last few days, several people have told him things that remind him of that Geoffrey Chaucer quote, “Time and tide wait for no man” and he realizes he might be running out of time to have a conversation with Buck.

Who is Bertie?  Why is Eddie partnered with her and will he listen to the things she's saying?

___________

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 -Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 -After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are part of the foundation when a couple builds a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - Will be posted soon.

__________

I’m enjoying writing this fic because it’s giving me the chance to unravel the mess that was the 6x18 ending for Buck, Eddie and Chris.  Also, it’s taking them places the show refuses to go including Buck finally having a mental breakdown and Eddie being there for him the same way he was there for Eddie in season 5.

Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading

Read chapters 1 - 9 are already available on AO3.

[tracksterman]

On the Highland & Island trips I've done over the last couple of years, I've been amazed how prevalent good cellphone signals are compared to my open-ended stravaiging a decade or more ago. While undoubtedly convenient, it does detract from the sense of being 'out there' that is one of the reasons for even doing these trips, so I decided on a different approach this time.

In everyday life I use my phone as a radio, a TV, an MP3 player, a book, a camera and a vast map of the entire UK. It's a Moto G84, bought last November to replace a damaged four year old Moto G7 Power that was getting a bit flakey. On this latest trip, I wanted to reduce reliance on my phone to both concentrate on 'being in the moment,' and also extend the time before I'd have to stop somewhere to recharge my various gadgets.

Paper maps, an FM Radio and an old Kindle, plus a miserly approach to using the phone in conjunction with my old Ravpower battery pack....worked well. The Tecsun FM radio, which I've had for a couple of years but not used much, always got clear reception (even in deep valleys once I touched the aerial against my tent pole to boost the signal). The Kindle lasted the trip on its initial charge so no concerns there. I kept the phone in airplane mode most of the time, extending the run time considerably. When I started running lower on power I stopped using my Bluetooth headphones and switched to a cheap set of wired earbuds that I have as a backup. I didn't actually use paper maps that much in the end, preferring to use OS chunks I'd defined and downloaded prior to leaving home; doing this in airplane mode appears to use very little power.

With these strategies in place, my 26800 mAh Ravpower battery pack easily lasted the full nine days I was away. I did also have a small one-shot battery I could've used to boot up the phone on the journey home to access train tickets, etc, but didn't need it in the end. With a more rigorous rationing of phone use I think I could extend time off-grid by another 2-3 days at least.

So how did I take this picture, you're asking...? Well, while the Moto G84 is in many ways an improvement on the Moto G7 Power, its camera isn't as good. Having repaired the G7's damaged power port and stripped out all its apps, I brought it along as, effectively, an offline compact camera. The thinking was I'd use it to take photographs then Bluetooth them over to the G84. In practice I hardly used it, but the underlying premise was sound and I might do it again.

[twicesserafim]

Not over you.

Third Person Pov:

You and Nayeon broke up about 2 months ago, she's tried going on dates, she was the one that called things off with you anyways. You thought you were over her.

You really did, you tried dating someone else, it didn't even last 3 weeks. Nayeon finally knew. She would never find someone who could treat her the way you did.

You tried to accept it but you couldn't let Nayeon go. nine years, you can't just let nine years go like that, but you thought she did. Although she didn't.

Everything reminded Nayeon of you. There was a playlist that you made together, with songs that reminded her of you or sings that reminded you of her and something you guys called. 'your' song.

Nayeon let out a shaky breath as she put her airpods in, pressing play on the playlist. Going to instagram. Which is the only app she didn't delete your messages on.

She scrolled up and read from the beginning. Tearing up at the first few sentences. "I'm sorry, i'm so sorry.." she sobbed as she hugged her knees against her chest.

Only crying harder because of the music. She wiped her tears, trying to compose herself as she saw something popping up on screen, you were active.

She picked up the phone but something made her stop from scrolling. 'both of you are in the chat'. Nayeons eyes widened as her phone fell onto the bed. she wiped her tears confused on what to do next.

Your heart almost stopped, why was she in chat? was she reading the old text that you used to send each other, wishing you were still texting each other like that? Like how you were?

You were only a few rooms away from each other, you guys could easily just walk over to each other. you typed a message. Once Nayeon saw you typing, she grew anxious.

You thumb shook over the send button as you tapped it. Sending the message. Nayeon was shocked yet grew more anxious because of what you wrote.

'hey nabong, allow me to come over?' she let out a teary chuckle, turning the music down, only putting it to the third level. She typed a quick. 'sure, i'll leave the door unlocked for you'

You read it as you walked over to her room, and it was in fact, unlocked. "Hey" you whispered as you stepped in, seeing her teary eyed as she wiped her tears away.

You locked the door as you walked towards her, softly caressing her cheek, wiping away her tears as a content sigh escaped her lips. "So, can we talk?" you asked as Nayeon nodded.

"what about?" you took in a small breath before whispering. "us" "oh, um, alright, go on" "well, it's pretty obvious that you've moved on but i wanna know, what were you doing in the chat?"

Nayeon let out a small giggle, "you're wrong. I haven't moved on. I was reading our old text because i missed you." "i missed you too you know" "then come back to me.." she whispered, lifting up her hand and placing it on the side of your neck. Lightly caressing.

You raised your hand and pulled her hand down. "not so fast, why did you break up with me?" "we distanced. we didn't see each other a lot, i thought there would be no difference in having you here and not, you were on hiatus."

You hummed accepting her answer before asking another question. "did you ever think of me while we were filming?" "always." "Why did you just break up with me out of no where, we were on call a day before. You acted normal to me"

"It was.. you looked so happy, i couldn't act cold to you, you were too cute" Nayeon whispered, you sighed as you saw at how Nayeon was looking at you.

With such love in her eyes, a slight look of hope on her face. A smiling curling at her lips as you two made eye contact that lasted more then 5 seconds for the first time in 2 months.

"I'm not over you." Nayeon said out of no where as you hummed, "i'm not over you either" "i'm so hopelessly in love with you." Nayeon added on.

Raising her hand, placing it back on your neck, lightly caressing it, this time you didn't stop her. "you're so beautiful." Nayeon whispered as she pulled you closer, pulling out an airpod, putting it in your ear. the song that was playing was played when you first met each other.

"and cute" she whispered as your faces were inches apart, you left your hand of her cheek, as soon as you looked down at her lips, she leaned in and captured your lips with her own.

Both of your lips moving together, softly, yet passionately. Nayeon sighed into the kiss as she ran her hand through your hair and back to your neck.

"i missed you so much" she mumbled into the kiss, making you smile. "missed you too" Nayeon finally pulled away from you a few minutes later, smiling at she let her forehead fall onto your shoulder.

"im sorry, i love you." "love you too yeonie" "stay with me tonight?" she pouted as she lifted her forehead off of your shoulder. you hesitated but nodded anyways. "okay" you agreed as she smiled.

She turned off the light, plugging her phone in, taking the airpod out of your ear, putting it into the case, she knew she wasn't going to need the airpods tomorrow, so she charged your phone instead.

"I did my skin care already i still need to change though-" you started but she cut you off by throwing you a pair of shorts and a hoodie. "here" she mumbled as you shook your head with a light smile.

"Alright miss im, as you wish" you muttered making her chuckle. You went into her washroom making her whine. "you should've changed here, i haven't seen your body in like 5 months because of breaking up and tour"

"i think i'm alright actually, thanks for the offer boss" you mumbled sarcastically making her roll her eyes. "whatever, just come here, i missed you in my arms at night."

"Yes ma'am" you said before putting in her passcode. "you changed your password?" you furrowed your eyebrows, a frown making its way on your face.

Her old password was your anniversary so it was bound to make you upset. Nayeon turned around to see a pout on your face, making her shake her head.

"it's your birthday" she whispered as your eyes widened, "oh" you mumbled, putting in your birthday, unpausing the playlist making Nayeon smile.

She thought you were going to check her phone. Forgetting you weren't like that. You turned off her phone so only the music and your breaths were heard in the room.

"wait, before you fall asleep." Nayeon started before pausing, "what?" you whispered as she gulped. tucking a piece of hair before your ear. pecking your forehead.

"i wanted to ask you tomorrow so it's more romantic but i can't wait. Be my girlfriend again please? we can act like we never broke up. You can still be called my girlfriend of 9 years."

You agreed as Nayeon pulled you into a kiss, it was a quick one, she kissed your cheek before the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep. Without knowing, you two were going to wake up to a lot of screams and photos taken by the members.

[mayhem24-7forever]

Nine People You Want To Know Better

Thank you for tagging me! @the-sweet-by-and-by

Last Song: I’m on a road trip right now so like a dozen songs are going as I spend years writing this but I have been playing “No Angels” by Bastille (my favorite band in the entire world!) and Ella Eyre a lot recently. It was one of my favorite covers they’d done and I was sad because it was only on youtube but they finally released it officially on spotify! Unfortunately it doesn’t have the Psycho sound clips in it which I think seriously enhance the message but it’s fine because I still love the cover!

Currently Watching: I have been on traveling and before that I was super busy with packing and planning and stressing so unfortunately I have not had much time to watch anything (which is pretty painful for a film major 😂) but I did get to watch Polite Society (2023, dir. Nida Manzoor) which was very good as well as some Defunctland videos/other theme park history videos on youtube because they are my kryptonite

Currently Reading: I’ve had a little bit of time to read some fics on my dash in the evenings at the hotels but for the most part during the day I can only read books I have physically in the car or downloaded onto the kindle app on my phone. With me physically I have Salem’s Lot by Stephen King and Lessons in Chemisty by Bonnie Garmus, although I haven’t been able to get very far in them without getting carsick and having to switch to my phone. I’m a fast reader so I’ve finished five and a half (new) books on kindle unlimited this week: Their Freefall at Last by Julie Olivia (the newly released final book of her Honeywood park series that was seriously so adorable and hot and heartwarming and humorous, I wish she would write a billion more in this series), The Beg, Borrow or Steal trilogy by Susie Tate (Beg Borrow or Steal, Limits and Anything But Easy didn’t really hate them but also didn’t love some of the personality traits of the male love interests which often turned me off of the books altogether), and Strictly Business by Carrie Elks (the first book of the Salinger Brothers series which I thought was great and am excited to read the rest. I just started the second book Strictly Pleasure and can’t wait to finish it!)

Latest Obsessions: So I have been OBSESSED over a few books/book serieses that I have been using my kindle unlimited to read over and over and over again constantly. I have reread all or parts of the three interconnected serieses by Nyssa Kathryn: Project Arma (particularly Luca and Kaye’s books), Blue Halo (specifically Logan and Blake’s books although the series is still going and I’m really looking forward to the newest one coming out in a few days), and Mercy Ring (especially Declan and Cole’s books). I am BEYOND obsessed with the Beasts of the Briar series by Elizabeth Helen! I devoured the first book Bonded by Thorns in a single night and have since reread it at least seven times. I signed up for their newsletter specifically so I could get the prequel novella Prince of the Arena which I have reread at least three times. The second book Woven by Gold was JUST released like a week ago and although I’ve only reread it twice so far I can tell I’m gonna reread it a lot more. I am so excited for the next one to come out in December!

Tagging: @rhettabbotts @jostystyles @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-natrace @footprintsinthesxnd @hederasgarden @topguncortez @sunlightmurdock @callsign-phoenix and anyone else who would like to do it 💕

[the-ghost-in-my-dreams]

The Pleasure Is Mine

Full Moon Bright City

I read a post just now laying it out that wise guys don't take pleasure in seeing someone's downfall and only fools engage in such barbaric behavior. And he is exactly right. For me anyways, I was a fool the whole nine yards baby. From May 2016 to a couple days ago if my memory serves me right especially after all I have been through. I was fooled into a big bag of fool's gold to exaggerate it a little. I was the only one left out of the joke for all those years. So if I stand up for myself and do the right thing by myself for myself, why is it held against me if the result is just a correction of another's mistake, a huge long mistake. I regard myself as a pretty great judge of character based on first impressions and to be frank. That dude doesn't know shit**. You would have to actually take someone down to know how it feels before you can comment on it in the first place. Most people only experience downfall which I bet he has gone through plenty of times. Anyways, that brings me to the topic of right now. Due to recent underwhelming reaction, I am going to be as vague as a I can explaining what I found. Well let's begin.

I went down the rabbit hole that goes past the two year one I just got done with. It is regarding ownership of properties around the area, specifically around my area. More specifically, the neighbors. So I began by looking at properties where I had received a tip or lead to. I typed in the address into the search engine and let it do its thing. I used Google Maps to help out in my search. Soon I was hitting the good free people and address search engines and it just went on forever. When it comes to searching and just shuffling through so much data, its best to go at a steady pace. I looked up the address that I went to, to meet up with this native guy I met last year. And I noticed in the results that it had foreclosed. I then took note of the owner. I didn't think anything of it until I began searching other properties. This includes the one next to my domicile. Long behold, a search brought back the information of previous tenants and anyone that lived there at any point. I have searched the property before but never got back that much information. I scanned it all and noticed the owner for the property that had foreclosed, is also listed under the property next door. His name actually came up a lot in my search and the search was just in my local area. Considering what I know about what the house was used for that got foreclosed, and what I saw in behavior on the app by this native guy, I am suspecting that it was a whore house per say. And according to one Uber driver, it has been a penny pinchin' time for prostitution nowadays. They could not pay their rent and they had to leave. They must have had a lot of business in the beginning because rent is not cheap these days. I then went through more addresses, particularly the closest ones to me. There is a house down the street that was bought by the realty company but has not sold it on market. However, I have seen a lot of traffic there so I am wondering what is going on because the house is finished. The rest did not reveal anything worth mentioning except the fact that the said neighbor next door, has a mega huge family. And also a female that supposedly stays there, apparently is not employed or has been according to the search engine. And the rent is mind glowingly high. Having said enough, I will finish with this: What if there are two different groups and from what it appears so far, the group that survived doesn't seem to care because it didn't affect them more or less. That for sure is a working theory. Believe me the rabbit hole goes much deeper but its just too much for one person. I am still searching, I mean I will continue to search tomorrow. Till then.

[nelweensfic]

Always with you

Chapter 1 : Introduction to a boring day

“Yes, sir. The green spots in your concrete are totally normal,” I say to the phone for the third time in less than five minutes. “It’s almost spring and the cold weather and the rain are the perfect conditions for algae to start growing. Once the temperatures get warmer and the sun shines more often, you should be able to just brush the algae off with a broom.” 

I start drawing on an empty post-it note on my desk, waiting for the man to stop yapping at the other end of the line. I hate finishing work late and being the one to close the office. Since I’m the only one left, I get a lot of weird guys on the phone.

“If you want someone else’s opinion, sir, I would recommend you to call back tomorrow. I’m sure one of my colleagues could help you with a technical solution to your problem because this is not my area,” I continue and this time the person sounds in a better mood. “Thank you, sir. Have a great evening.” 

I put the phone back with a sigh and keep drawing. My own phone lays on my desk next to me. It’s unlocked with the Discord app open on a recent message I sent. 

[Me] : Are you free for a game tonight?

It’s the message I sent to Maeva over an hour ago. I usually don’t mind her not replying quickly. She could be busy with another gaming session to train for the Spring Championship coming in two months, but it’s been three days since we last talked and I already miss playing with her. 

I look at the clock. Five thirty-four. There’s still another twenty-six minutes left before I can leave to go home. It’s been calm today so I don’t have much left to do, except for continuing my little drawing of the Vulpir from the game Dragonitia. 

Dragonitia is a multiplayer online battle arena game, also known as a Moba. It’s a five versus five game. Each champion of the team fights in a different part of the map, with four different paths called lanes. There is the top lane, the mid lane, the bottom or bot lane and then the lane called the Jungle. There, you have to kill monsters in the rest of the map instead of minions or other players. 

Maeva and I have been playing the game for maybe nine or ten years now. She’s good at it. So good that she joined a professional team five years ago called the Dragons in Pyjamas or DiP for short. They’ve been the third best European team for two years now. She’s living her dream. Our dream.

Ping. 

The sound of notification on my phone echoes around the room. My eyes immediately look at my phone screen, a hopeful feeling filling my chest. Unfortunately, it’s not a message from Maeva. Instead, it’s from Justin, Maeva’s coach, who is also an online friend of mine. 

I sigh, not even trying to hide my disappointment as I read the message.

[Justin] : Mae is going out with us tonight. We’re celebrating our win! 

Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. I vaguely remember her talking about an upcoming scrim against the number two team in Europe. A scrim is a way to play against other teams without being ranked or judged. It’s a practice moment where the players can test new strategies and learn other ways to play with new members of the team. It doesn't matter who wins or loses, but a victory is always rewarding.

Dragonitia is really becoming more popular and serious compared to when we all started playing it.  

[Me] : Congrats coach! Though, tell her that I want to play with her again soon, too. I need my support player!! 

My main role in the game is a Carry AD, or ADC for short. I mostly deal physical damage from a distance. Though I also always need a support character, usually one that can heal or one that does crowd control to help me out. 

Maeva is a support player. We’ve always played together since the beginning using the bottom lane. It’s what we call a duo lane, where two characters fight another two characters of an opposing team. The midlane and the toplane are both solo lanes, where you only have one versus one matches. 

I prefer playing Dragonitia with Maeva because playing with a random support is always uneasy. 

Suddenly, I hear another notification on my phone.

[Justin] : Hey! Maeva’s a pro. She has obligations. You should become a pro gamer, too!

I pout as I read Justin’s last message even if no one can see me, before I reply again. 

[Me] : Two girls in the same team? Do you want to lose credibility? 

Being a girl in the gaming industry is hard. I envy Maeva a lot. She’s tough enough to have a job there. But I’m not like her… 

[Justin] : I know you don’t like your job, Ruby. Plus, you’ll see Maeva more often. You guys are childhood friends, no? 

I hate it when Justin is right. Yes, I despise my job. Why would anyone like to spend eight hours a day with a manager who expects you to do more work than you’re actually paid for and who constantly complains that you’re too introverted to talk to clients face to face? 

I sigh again. Unfortunately, I don’t have the required skills to be a pro gamer. I’m only ranked as a Master. The required level to be a pro gamer, however, is Challenger. Besides, Maeva is the only person I play regularly with, and even then, it’s barely two hours a day at most…

I turn back to my phone, typing out my reply, trying to not sound touched by his words.

[Me] : Doesn’t mean I want to play under your supervision ;)

After several minutes without a reply, I put my phone back down and go back to my little drawing. Justin must be busy with his team right now. 

Just then, the phone rings again. Slightly reluctant, I pick up, greeting the person on the other side with a faux-happy voice. I can’t wait for the weekend to start. And hopefully I can play a game or two with Maeva, too.

Edit : chapter 2 here!

[natashaferguson7]

Would you even believe the truth if you heard the truth?

over 10 years ago now my family started being hacked, it has only been a few years since the pandemic that breaking. News hit the media and channel nine news, where we were at the time announcing that spy where had been illegally sold around our community and an arrest had been made. Aside from people buying and selling spyware, there are Apps encouraged to "help parents find, watch and locate there kids, unfortunately people abuse these aps and use them to spy on and stalk people, my family's life has been excessively hacked by people for a very long time. I recently found my self wondering if I went back in time ten years ago to when I was mothering three small children at the time: and tell myself something about my future ten years ago, I would not believe it and I definitely would not have been able to comprehend the amount of illegal activity done to me , my daughter and to my family unit by people that lie. I confronted a girl who was stalking my daughter, and my daughter was arrested and lied about by people twisting the truth, and by them twisting my words and hers. I confronted my daughter's stalker, someone who had been breaking into our house and stalking my daughter at the shops and to her school, my daughter was lied about to the police, lied about in court and my daughter was arrested without being questioned! For the last few years this cyber hacking has become cyber bullying day and night by her friends and family; these people i don't know and have never met in my life; locating our living address and her lying about me and my daughter everywhere slandering our family name, constantly breaking into the roof of my home and having her friends and family follow is wherever we go. How is it that a person can be illegally bullying and blackmailing a person's life because hacking and bullying through your personal modem is undetected? How is it that the person playing a victim is constantly planting themselves around your life and lying about you? We are in a different time now and i recognize that people do not have boundaries anymore. For every lie ever said and for every truth ever twisted about me as a Mum, every lie about my daughter and twisted truth surrounding our lives, this person remains fixated on bullying and harassing my life or having people defend her actions even though my daughter was never ever any of the nasty ugly or cruel things she and her family have ever said! How do you deal with that? When people go out of there way pursuing your life and attacking and sabotaging every area of your life; because they are empowered by unjust criminal activity and behavior? The real kicker is that she said in court to the judge that my daughter deserved to be locked away for ten years because she was scared of her. Does someone who's scared of you, keep stalking around your house night and day threatening your life your family's life or your future, climbing up into your roof, listening to your phone calls, rallying her friends and family around to attack my family unit, me as a mum, and my daughter? Does a victim approach and place themselves around your family workplace and schools? This person and these people got off on bullying my daughter out of school and ruining her education. She was three months away from finishing her year 12 at the third school she was bullied out of. My daughter is 24 and has never been able to have a job because of peoples hate, jealousy, spite revenge, gossip lies and people taking the law into their own hands. The law just doesn't protect the innocent, it is used by the corrupt to hurt good people. After being drugged sleeping alongside my daughter and her being bashed and slipped the after pill I can only say that everyday that I get up and push past every bit of peoples toxic hate or drama, I have Jesus; My Faith in God helps me believe, My Faith in Jesus Christ helps me to forgive, the Love of Jesus Helps me to Heal, Its where i find my peace and my resting place in my life.

_ Natasha Ferguson

[threenorth]

Today's song tornado by owl city...

I remember the day I started feeling uncomfortable... It was an odd feeling... But not one I knew of, it was like happiness, scared and nervous... It was going to be the last day of 3 days hanging with you, I couldn't wait for the movie on June 25th.

We Went shopping and you made. The boring fun, but then in the movie the nightmare started....

I remember you said it has to get worse to get better, and the haunting words are you okay?

I tried to be brave so I lied...

It was painful, to feel all the emotions at once, I was in breakdown...

I ran, from everything... When I closed my eyes I could only feel the pain, but I could feel you telling me everything would be okay.

I expected I was about to fall to the ground, I thought I was about to die...

I tried to rebuild my life but none of the professions seemed to be able to help me when I asked for help...

I thought about reaching out to you but it didn't feel right, then I remembered your pray flags from Nepal and Catlain...

I hung on because If I expected to die it will come soon enough eventually... I went to, College (university) and before I knew it I would be diagnosed with autism but I kept hanging on because I told people I've had worse, no one to ask the worse, I would of said breaking my own heart, not knowing you still cared for me.

When I was starting to finally get back to myself the truma would come back, 3 dicks in a bar, and I remember hearing you say to run, so I did...

When I said we switched places I ment that your stable and now I'm unstable.

A war, I wanted to win and a battle I might of lost due to months of waiting for the storm to clear.

I remember, looking at your photos on Instagram, you were always so cute.

I would say I've seen some of the messages today but I'm going to have to power on to my degree and do some catchup.

I do not know the words to bring you home,

But the doors always open for you.

I miss everything about you,

But the world is beautiful again, just like your smile, I don't know when my next battles will be I had a small one a few weeks ago.

But you kept me sane, in ways that I'd say I'm sorry I'm not a perfect person, there's many things I need to work on, but some of those things you use to tell me, they keep me going on the days I feel like I can't.

And now I'd say yes I'm okay, yes I'm doing good

The good life is finally coming back to me.

I'd tell you this summer in welly there's a marvel experience,

https://www.wellingtonnz.com/visit/events/marvel-earths-mightiest-exhibition

I'm going back down to say fuck you a bar, that ruined my life in all the good ways bad times do.

Because at the end of the day it reminded me of all the things I was missing out on..

Xo

P.S

Hopefully I won't get spammed but;

(Nine four zero)

The amount of days in a year - 79. According to Douglas Adams The meaning of life plus 1

Or you have my cellphone of you want to use that, Anytime but I think my phone doesn't have the app on whitelist for when I'm "suposedly" asleep to allow it I'd look into it if I knew that's how you want to communicate, but you have all my touch points.

I have to go through alot of data and files... to see if I can find the number I never thought I needed, but now hope I can find... (yours)

[teensdemo]

Garrys mod review

I didn’t really have a clue that it was going to change my entire life.” Maybe the same over the course of a month, and then basically die off,” admits Newman.”It could’ve gone either way, so it is a big surprise to be sitting here ten years later and be thinking about when I was in my mum and dad’s house making this game. “We were expecting it to sell, like, ten to 20 thousand copies in the first day. Granted, Newman saw great potential in the digital platform – it was going to big – but was nonetheless unsure of where Garry’s Mod fitted into that projection. In 2006, although into its third year of existence, many still saw it as an inconvenience – a tedious install that obstructed direct desktop access to Counter-Strike. If we’d have priced it at $50 or $30, or even $20, I don’t think it’d have lasted ten years.”īack then, Steam was a far cry from the juggernaut it is today. I thought: who would pay for it? When we were first talking about price we thought $10. “We decided to have it that cheap because when Valve originally asked if we wanted to put it on Steam I said no. “The price goes back to the original days,” he explains. Newman describes the hype at this time as “crazy”, but recalls refusing Valve’s first offer. After all, he thought, who would pay for what is essentially an idiosyncratic take on a free Source engine mod? Fast forward two years and a dedicated, burgeoning community had blossomed, the press were fighting for coverage, and Valve themselves had approached Newman to discuss bringing the mod to their digital distribution service.Īt this stage it seemed Garry’s Mod had transcended its nominal “mod” appellative, becoming a fully-fledged game in its own right. In 2004, creator Garry Newman launched his eponymous project to the world free-of-charge. Given how much it offers players in return – an open, manipulatable sandbox with almost limitless possibilities – and as a mod that labels itself one “you definitely can’t win”, it seems like a pretty good deal. All characters, locations, images and video game content, are copyright of their respective owners, using this app is only within the scope of fair use guidelines.When Garry’s Mod debuted on Steam nine years ago it cost a meager ten dollars (seven pounds).

This guide only provides you the information of mods for the game, so that you can enjoy the game even more. All trademark and copyright belongs to Facepunch Studios and Valve. Please note that this is NOT the game 【Garry’s Mod】 itself, NOR containing official mods information. When we discover other interesting mods, we will further update the app. This unofficial Mods for 【Garry’s Mod】 collected about 90 English videos about interesting mods of the game. The game is currently available in Steam (). In the game, you can call up a variety of object, combine them in different manner, creating new objects and your world, use your head to come up with some fun and interesting objects, even vehicles and rockets, you can also play the things created by other people. 【Garry's Mod】 is a sandbox game developed by FacePunch Studio. This app contains mods information of 【Garry’s Mod】, including download links and videos of mods in action, so that you can watch the information and decide whether the time needed is worth to backup the game, download and install the mods. This is an unofficial Mods for 【Garry’s Mod (GMod)】.

[tonkivino]

Lost to time goodreada

LOST TO TIME GOODREADA PROFESSIONAL

LOST TO TIME GOODREADA SERIES

LOST TO TIME GOODREADA SERIES

When Duncan is murdered, it becomes increasingly clear to Jason that his investigation into Pippa's disappearance is not welcome, especially after he follows a series of clues which lead him straight back to the girl's immediate family.īut nothing can prepare Jason for the truth about Pippa, which he discovers just as Figgis Green is about to take to the stage on opening night-with or without him. Duncan offers Jason a substantial sum of money to try and find out what really happened to the young woman, whose mother had her declared officially dead in 1981. Find, get, and share books you love on Goodreads, the worlds largest site for readers and book recommendations. The only problem is the Wiltshire Folk Festival was held in August 1974, five months after Pippa disappeared. Standing in the foreground is Pippa Gladstone.

LOST TO TIME GOODREADA PROFESSIONAL

Her partner, Tony Figgis, passed away in 1995, so his place has been taken by their son, professional jazz guitarist (and amateur sleuth) Jason Davey.Īs the band meets in a small village on the south coast of England for pre-tour rehearsals, Jason's approached by Duncan Stopher, a diehard Figs fan, who brings him a photo of the band performing at the Wiltshire Folk Festival. Now it's 2018, and founding member Mandy Green has reunited the Figs for their last-ever Lost Time Tour. One of their biggest fans was sixteen-year old Pippa Gladstone, who mysteriously vanished while she was on holiday with her parents in Spain in March that same year. Check one or both of these options, and you get a lovely email that looks like this as soon as the giveaway is posted: You can also choose to get a notification in the app/website instead of an email. It’s based around four simple steps.In 1974, top UK band Figgis Green was riding high in the charts with their blend of traditional Celtic ballads mixed with catchy, folky pop. You sure can In your account settings, go to emails and then scroll down to comment and action notifications. We wanted Make Time to be different: Flexible. We’ve tried plenty of those, and while we did get more done, we didn’t like how it made us feel. With some simple changes, we learned that it’s possible to redesign your time-to get more focus, greater attention, and better energy for the things that matter to you every day. We shared our results online and asked readers to tell us about their experiences. Be part of the world’s largest community of book lovers on Goodreads. We tested hundreds of dorky tactics and took notes on what worked. Find and read more books you’ll love, and keep track of the books you want to read. Since writing this up I've heard from three other people whose accounts Goodreads also lost. If you care about your data on Goodreads take a data export right now and take one as a backup every few months. Contact information: Website Facebook Blog BookBub Goodreads Email. Fortunately I had a backup from last July so not all is lost. in life and has been making up for lost time with a flood of works from sports. Some system bug related to my having used Twitter for login at one time. We began experimenting with our own habits and routines, trying to make time for what’s important to us. My Goodreads account of nine years got deleted a couple of weeks ago. We looked at the success of our design sprint process, and saw principles that anyone could apply to make better use of their time. We took what we learned from designing apps like Gmail and YouTube, and came up with simple ways to fight distraction and take back control. Scan book covers to instantly read reviews and save it on your Want to Read shelf. More than 75 million members have added more than 2.2 billion books to their shelves. The work was exciting and rewarding, but the always-connected culture and back-to-back meeting schedule left little time for our priorities. Find, get, and share books you love on Goodreads, the worlds largest site for readers and book recommendations. We both worked in the tech industry for a long time.

[alwaysmarveling]

To Be Seen

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Warnings: Hints at neglect

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: All superpowers seem to have a downside to them. Invisibility is no exception.

You got your first pair of glasses when you turned seven. The black frames were a birthday present of sorts. You had your eye set on a transparent blue pair, or honestly any of the many colorful options that lined the shelves, but your mother had grabbed the black ones without a word to you and placed them on the counter. Then the two of you went home, back to the always busy house, buzzing with the sounds of your siblings’ chatter and the television that entertained your constantly preoccupied father. There was no cake, no other presents, not even a “congratulations” or a “happy birthday,” but that was okay. That was okay because you had already gotten the gift of sight.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself that night, your younger sister already sound asleep beside you while you looked up at the glow-in-the-dark shapes taped to the ceiling. The glasses turned the green fuzzy blobs into actual stars, their points clear and easily counted as you drifted off to sleep with the lenses still on. “You can see now.”

---

You found out you could make yourself invisible on the day you hit ten years old. When you woke up, the first thing you did was look at yourself in the mirror, trying to see if you looked any different from the day before, when you were nine. Double digits should mean double the change, right? But there was no change from when you weren’t in the mirror to when you were. 

At first, you thought it must’ve been a prank from your older brother, but one look in the bathroom mirror told you that this was something else. It took you about half an hour before you somehow managed to become visible again, but when you did, you walked into the kitchen to find everything the same as it was the night before. No one hung streamers around the house or left a card on the counter, but that was okay. That was okay because you had a gift.

---

On your twenty-seventh birthday, you were recruited to be an Avenger. Three years ago on that exact day, you had quit your office job and joined SHIELD, only as a trainee, but you made your way through the ranks. You had the advantage of a mastered superpower—turning invisible came useful on the countless days you wished the world would just swallow you whole—but you still had to learn to use it like an agent. You were never remarkable, never being praised as the top of your class nor critiqued as one of the worst. You were always in the middle. Always just… there.

But Fury had seen something in you, and now here you were, packing your things to move into the Avengers Tower. You honestly weren’t sure what he saw in you; no one did. There were other SHIELD agents with far more useful powers and much better combat skills, yet he had picked you and no one else, making you the third SHIELD agent to join the Avengers since Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.

You looked around the empty apartment, scanning for something you and your imperfect vision might have missed, but saw nothing. Was that what others saw when they looked at you, thinking they had packed the whole room while you were standing right in front of them, arms waving in their face and voice begging for them to acknowledge you? No matter. Fury had told you Natasha would be picking you up at 2, meaning you had just over thirty minutes before she got here. Life moved on, and so would you.

Just like in years prior, there were no claps on the back, shiny bows, or patterned gift wrapping, but that was okay. That was okay because you had gotten the gift to protect and serve others.

---

You laid into the punching bag, twenty-eight non-stop uppercuts for your new age as of today. You brushed one hand across your forehead to interrupt the sweat droplets that ran from your hair, Bruce doing his best to praise you in the meantime.

“Good work, Y/N, yeah. Um, stronger than the ones you’ve been doing in the past. Better form too. I think.” You were sure you weren’t meant to hear his last sentence, but a roll of Natasha’s eyes next to you was enough to make you laugh it off. It wasn’t like you could blame him. Training others wasn’t his forte. You weren’t even sure if he trained himself.

Fury’s interest in you had been short-lived, it seemed. To be fair, you were lucky he recruited you in the first place and even luckier that he let you stay on the team. Still, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed in how you turned out to just be a new puppy to him. With your novelty now wearing off, you became the responsibility of people like Bruce, who never quite wanted you in the first place.

You had nothing against the gentle and kindhearted scientist, but Steve, Nat, or even Clint would’ve been much more obvious choices. Yet somehow the scientist was who Fury appointed. Maybe he was just the only one who accepted the task, the only one not bold enough to deny Fury’s orders outright. Strangely enough, Nat always showed up, but you weren’t entirely sure why, seeing as she usually sat there silently for most of it. She’d occasionally lean in to whisper something to Bruce, but she rarely said anything to you.

Much to Bruce’s—and maybe Natasha’s—relief, Tony strutted into the gym, his charisma already filling in the awkward gaps between you guys that never seemed to disappear, no matter how much time passed.

“Bruce, Nat, just the people I was looking for! It was great to see you guys at the party last night.” You pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose before going back to the punching bag; obviously, he was not here to speak with you. As you beat into the bag, getting lost in the rattling of the chain and the rhythm of the combinations, you thought back to last night, when you heard the Avengers’ laughter as they prepared for the gala.

-

You sat in the living room watching a movie with the tiniest but fiercest hope that someone might see you and ask you to come along. This was a party for the Avengers, after all, to celebrate the success of a mission that you had been part of. It had been up to you to cut the power and incapacitate the leader. Somehow the credit had gone to Clint, all the news stations celebrating the archer and his amazing feat. It was fine, whatever, just another chip to brush off of your shoulder—a teeny, tiny chip, really, honestly probably more of a scratch—but you thought you would’ve at least been invited to the party. Yet there you were, your posture slowly drooping as you sank into the leather sofa while your teammates gathered in the elevator to head up to the party. You had taken your phone out and opened the camera app, checking to make sure you hadn’t somehow triggered your invisibility, but, nope, you were very much there. The tears that fell were very much there.

-

“Alright, Tony, I’ll be there for Movie Night tonight, but you gotta go. I need to get back to my training duties.” It was then that Tony finally seemed to realize your presence, turning around with a surprised look on his face.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. You, um, you should come tonight too.” All of his charm was gone, the relaxed smile only hanging on by the tiniest lift of the corner of his mouth. So you did your best to reassure him with a small nod. The smile came back immediately. All was well; Tony Stark does indeed have a heart.

-

Later that night, as you sat alone on the three-person couch, you drew the blankets closer to you. The same movie you had watched last night was playing on the TV. The original plan had been to watch Jaws, but Sam was delighted to find the DVD box to Space Jam on the coffee table, insisting that he’d been wanting to watch it again and how it was such a coincidence it was already out. He wasn’t saying that last night when you asked if anyone wanted to watch it with you, but at least you weren’t watching it alone this time. You looked around at the small groups the Avengers had formed on the other couches, some of them even sitting on the floor—there wasn’t enough space, you guessed—before letting out a sigh. There were no party hats or festive noisemakers, but that was okay. That was okay because… A tap on your knee brought you back to the present moment. You looked down to find the outstretched arm of a familiar redhead, a bowl of popcorn in her hand.

There was no time for wallowing in self-pity. That was okay. You were okay.

---

The harsh sunlight woke you up in time for your thirtieth birthday. Or maybe it was the stiff and lumpy mattress that did it. Either way, you were hoping you’d be able to sleep through it. The rational side of you knew that wasn’t possible—what with being on the run from the US government and all—but one can always hope, right?

You’d stuck with Natasha during the Avengers’ split, pushing for the team to stay together even though you’d never really been part of the team. It wasn’t about you though; you’d seen the amazing things the Avengers could do when they were together. The world needed them.

Well, that line of thinking got you here, in a small cabin in the woods with all the Avengers who had followed Steve, Natasha joining the group later. Happy birthday to you. Although to be fair, it wasn’t like any of your past birthdays had been much better. Once your childish naivety had faded away (which probably took much longer than it should have), the day became something you dreaded, something you hoped each year you would forget about but never quite could. This time, though, you had a small plan. It was going to be different this year.

-

Your knees cracked as you stood, announcing to no one in particular that you were heading off to bed. Rather than heading straight down the hall to your room, though, you cut through the kitchen and grabbed a few things.

Your shoulders dropped slightly as you closed the door, and you allowed yourself to study the contents of your hands: a lighter, candle, and one of the leftover store-bought cupcakes from Steve’s birthday. The cupcakes weren’t great, but no one had the time, energy, or ingredients to make a cake, and, let’s be honest, most of the people here couldn’t bake anyways. Plus, this one had frosting in your favorite color, so you couldn’t complain, especially since it was more than you’d had for your birthday since you could remember.

The wooden bed frame creaked as you shifted to place the candle in the frosting and light it. For the first time that day, you were grateful the windows had no curtains, as they allowed you to see the stars that dotted the sky.

“Happy birthday,” you murmured to yourself, your eyes never leaving the constellations, instead darting around to watch in awe as more and more of the twinkling lights showed up the longer you cared to look.

Just as you tore your eyes away to blow out the candle, a knock rang out against the door. Were you guys spotted? Did you have to leave? You immediately ran to open the door, running through a list of things you’d have to pack the second you heard the order. You weren’t exactly surprised to see Nat standing outside your door, but you were surprised to see her holding a small rectangular box and a bottle of champagne.

“Hey, um, sorry to interrupt.” Your cheeks immediately heated up when you noticed her eyes dart to the cupcake still in your hand. You must’ve forgotten to put it down in your rush to open the door. At least the candle’s flame had gone out. “I get it if you don’t want to celebrate with anyone, but I figured you still deserve a treat on your special day.”

Natasha’s brows furrowed as your head tilted slightly.

“What special day?”

“Um, well, isn’t it your birthday?” You nodded, still not quite understanding what she was asking. Not to mention, the spy’s continued use of filler words surprised you. Sure, the two of you hadn’t interacted with each other much, but a lack of familiarity didn’t usually make her this uneasy. Were you really that invisible that she felt uncomfortable around you despite having known you for three years? But you couldn’t dwell on it with Nat speaking again, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “And, um, I noticed the only alcohol you drink is champagne, so… this is for you.”

You stepped back slightly as she nudged the objects towards you, but the spy misunderstood you, taking your surprise as an invitation to enter the room. Before you knew it, you were asking her to sit next to you on the mattress. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, though; keeping her standing would be rude, and there were no chairs in your room. The two of you sat at least a foot apart, both of your spines straight and neither of you quite meeting the eyes of the other.

“So, um, do you want to open the present first or have your cupcake? Or we can open the champagne if you want.”

“This is a present?” You eyed the brown box she held in her hand. You weren’t sure what it could be. Based on its size, maybe a watch or a pocket knife? But Natasha laughed, simply pushing the box towards you.

“Of course it’s a present. Open it!” So you set the cupcake down on the unstable bedside table, making sure the dessert wouldn’t fall due to the furniture having one leg shorter than the rest. You cast one last glance at Natasha, who gave you a reassuring yet pointed nod, and with that, you lifted the cover. 

It took everything in you to prevent the tears springing in your eyes from overflowing. You lifted the goggles with shaking hands. You had to touch them to make sure they were real, to make sure this wasn’t some sick and twisted dream your brain had forced on you to make you remember how disappointing your past birthdays had been.

“Do you like it?” The blonde asked you softly, her lower lip caught in between her teeth. Had you been thinking clearly, you would’ve been surprised at how apprehensive she sounded, how unsure she was. “I thought it could be something you might want to wear on missions. I noticed your other ones kept slipping down or breaking, and um…” Both of you became antsier as Natasha rambled on, you at how she was being more intimate with you than anyone ever had, and she at how she just couldn’t seem to stop talking despite the fact that, in her opinion, she was digging herself into an increasingly deeper hole. “It’s a lot more sturdy, and there are some other features that I think you’ll appreciate. I had Tony and Bruce make it for you… before, you know, this whole thing happened. And I brought it with me when I left.”

The frames reminded you much of the glasses you had first wanted as a kid, the ones your mother had looked past in favor of the plain black ones. They matched your combat suit, though, even having a small carving of your symbol on the side. You nodded as you choked down a sob, forcing yourself to meet the former assassin’s gaze to try to thank her properly.

“I love it, Natasha. Thank you so much. I- it’s… it’s amazing.” Nat dipped her head as if to nod, but you didn’t miss the way her cheeks flushed red or how a hint of her characteristic smirk appeared.

“Of course. It’s the least I could do.” Your eyes returned to the glasses in your hand. You’d try them out the second Natasha left. “So, cake now?”

“Yes, right, of course,” you nodded immediately, shaking your head at how you had managed to forget about the one thing you had planned to do for your birthday. Before you could reach for the frosted dessert, Natasha relit the candle and handed the cupcake to you as she began to sing “Happy Birthday.” When she reached the last note, you could hold it in no longer, and all the tears immediately began to flow.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Is my singing really that bad?” The redhead wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer or move away as she ran a hand through her hair, but she felt slightly comforted when she noticed you shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s just…” Natasha hesitantly began to rub your back in an effort to calm your sobs, “No one’s ever sang that for me before.”

“Ever?” She winced slightly at how her voice cracked, betraying her emotions to you despite her attempts to remain composed.

“Well, there used to be a video of it from my third birthday, but… I was three. So I don’t really remember it.” Natasha thought back to the many birthday celebrations the team had held, none of them being for you. The door to your room was always closed on your birthday. She’d always thought you had just gone out with friends and family, people outside of the Avengers, and who was she to get in the way of you and those you loved? But it had been the opposite. You had been hiding away in your room, and she hadn’t helped matters at all by waiting for three years to do anything. If only she’d gained the courage earlier, she could’ve helped ease your pain much sooner.

But all you saw through your tears was the way her head was cocked to the side, her spy training paying off as you couldn’t even begin to predict what she might be thinking. Your confusion slowed your tears somewhat, but that didn’t last for long as your mind shifted gears. You were ever the fool for sharing something so vulnerable with someone you barely knew.

So it was much to your surprise when Natasha finally reached her hand toward you, using her thumb to brush off the last few tears that made their way down your cheeks.

“You’ve never been invisible to me, Y/N. I see you. Always.” And with that, without responding, you turned away from her with a sniff to blow out the candle. “What’d you wish for?” the spy asked lightly, hoping the joke would help lift your mood.

“Nothing. This was more than I could’ve ever asked for.” Nat nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on you as she reached to take out the candle. Your eyes remained on the cupcake as if it would be ripped away from you if you turned away for a second. With her hand returned to your back, you began to dig into the cupcake, your eyes closing as you savored the taste. A cupcake just for you, on your birthday. Sure, it was a leftover cupcake, the frosting a bit too sweet and the cake itself dry and somewhat stale, but that didn’t matter. It was still the first in thirty years. 

-

That night, you lay in bed with the stars overhead, a smile on your face as you thought about the day’s events, your best birthday ever.

And maybe it was naive of you to believe what Natasha had told you earlier that day—it wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind several times in the few hours since she told you that—but then you thought about the champagne and the glasses she’d given you. You thought about the way she’d examined your apartment with you one last time before she brought you to the Avengers Tower, about the way she gave you an encouraging smile during training when you became exhausted with Bruce’s cluelessness, about the way she’d shared her popcorn on movie nights with you and only you.

And in the room next to you, Natasha thought about your confusion, your tears, and the way desperation, hope, and amazement filled your face when you looked at her right before you blew out the candle. It was then that she made a vow to herself, to show you that you’d never be invisible, especially not to her.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” she whispered, “You are seen.”

-----

🏷 : @vancityfire13 @007giu

[interact-if]

Day 2 of our Pride Month Event, with Brigid!

Brigid, Author of Event Horizon

[EVENT HORIZON] is a science-fiction-horror story, set far into a future in which humans are not alone in a hostile galaxy.

The Failsafe has been activated. War lingers on the horizon. Five years ago, you were one of the last people to be selected for the Failsafe and Final Stand Programs. You were frozen in time, placed into orbit at the edge of the solar system. And now, you’re hurtling through space towards a ship you’ve never seen before. The Nomad. A secret mission beyond the edge of the solar system, to stop the Enemy before they can begin their second invasion. A suicide mission. A point of no return.

Read more about Event Horizon here. Play the Demo here or here. Brigid is also the author of Lost Birds (link) and CLOSEDLOOP (link).

[INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!]

Q1 - Please, introduce yourself and tell us a bit about your project(s)!

Hi! I'm Brigid, and I'm a writer, artist, and overworked college student, dabbling in writing IF. I've got quite a few projects in the works- all science-fiction, all overly ambitious.

Event Horizon is my main project; the story of crew as mysterious as they are doomed, on a one-way mission to stop the second alien invasion before it can even happen. It's a work of cosmic horror, split off into three massive "timelines", each of which showcases a different aspect of humanity (or lack thereof)- to fight, to change, to remember.

lost birds is a side project; a story told in many voices, all revolving around the end of the world and what comes after. Set nine years after the apocalypse, in the American Southwest, it concerns itself with a dead Ranger's quest for revenge- or something you can convince yourself isn't revenge- across the strange new wasteland, a world as hostile as it is beautiful.

CLOSEDLOOP is another side project; a fast-paced, cyberpunk-inspired tear through a dystopic City. Trapped in a time loop by someone or something calling itself "Control", the MC- just an average Citizen- navigates a day that repeats forever- and the consequences thereof.

In the near-ish future, I intend to publish a VN centered around the concepts of ecological succession, loneliness, persistence, and growth- a culmination of interests, and a capstone project for my art program.

Q2 - What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

I'm unsurprisingly a huge sci-fi nerd, and it shows. Things like 2001: A Space Odyssey, Interstellar, Annihilation, Mass Effect, and many, many of the pulp sci-fi novels I read as a teen and young adult inspire my love of science-fiction.

Furthermore, my area of study (other than art) is ecology, so nature and the "nature of things" take huge precedence in my works for better or worse. Honestly, anything that captures my attention and thoughts are grounds for inspiration, things like poetry, tarot, paintings, music, obscure scientific theory, philosophical concepts. Or plants. Like 80% of my Event Horizon "research" was a Wikipedia plant rabbit-hole.

Q3- What excites you most about IF? What drew you to the medium?

I ran into IF completely at random- some artists I follow and look up to had posted art of IF characters and settings. Previously, I'd written short stories and bad notes app poetry, but this was more of chance to expand my horizons (pardon the pun). IF excites me because I get to make things- plain and simple. There's a joy to creating these characters, worlds, and stories- and in interacting with them- I hadn't even known was possible until I found IF.

Q4 - Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

Yes, absolutely. I write what I want to see, and to me, that's greater gender diversity and WLW/NBLW representation in the realm of science fiction.

Science-fiction is male dominated, with a majority of authors and characters being male. The female characters I grew up with were token "girl on the team" characters, and nonbinary characters were often just robots or aliens, or other non-human characters. I wanted to do better for people who were like me, women and other nonbinary people. I wanted to create competent and multidimensional characters who didn't have to identify or appear as men to be treated as such.

As a lesbian, I like writing WLW and NBLW characters. I didn't really grow up with that representation, and when it was present, it felt wrong, usually because it was written off as a joke, or for men by men. By no means are the relationships I write between women (or the women themselves) perfect- but they come from a place of genuine care and nuance, and I sincerely hope the care I put into my characters and their relationships shows throughout my work.

Q5 - What are you most excited about sharing related to your project?

The move to Twine as a medium has been, by far, the most exciting thing to happen to my projects. I've got a lot more fine-tuned control over the way I get to present my work- and I'm just starting out, there's a lot more I can learn.

As far as content goes- there are a few major updates to Event Horizon and CLOSEDLOOP coming this summer, which I'm trying so hard not to spoil just yet.

Q6 - What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction/IF community?

Is it selfish to say more WLW/NBLW characters and relationships written by women and nonbinary people?

Just in general, diverse authors writing diverse stories in a number of genres, anything and everything from slice-of-life to science- fiction.

Q7- Lastly, what advice would you give to your creators and readers?

Be persistent.

First drafts are first drafts for a reason; there is always room for improvement, you just have to be persistent enough to see or seek improvement. Stay curious, enjoy your work, and let the world as a whole inspire you. Make what you'd like to see, most of all. You're the only one who can truly tell your story.

[ptergwen]

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

-

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

-

if i forgot you please lmk!

[hookingminor]

highly requested part 2 to this angsty blurb, and this marks the end of my 2k blurb weekend! thank you all for joining me and I hope you enjoyed!

-

Matthew wandered back to the hotel well after midnight.

The rehearsal dinner ended around nine in the evening, but after spending an hour on that deck thinking about everything you said, he decided to take a long walk around the neighborhood.

He wandered through the church venue Willow had booked and sat at the pews for a few minutes, taking in all the decorations that were already set up. Then, he made his way back to the barn where the reception would take place, and all of it just felt wrong: the decor, the table settings, the flowers, none of it felt right.

Matthew didn’t put much thought into the wedding, per Willow’s requests, but it only hit him just how little he contributed to all of it as he sat on his hotel bed and thought about what his ideal wedding would look like.

He didn’t even want to get married in Calgary.

It made sense he would since Willow had lived here her whole life, but Matthew always imagined his wedding taking place in St. Louis where his entire family and all his friends could attend. Besides his immediate family and teammates, no one else could make the long trip to Calgary for his wedding.

When Matthew pictured his wedding, he also pictured you standing at the end of the aisle, too. Matthew was sure Willow’s dress would be gorgeous and she would look absolutely beautiful tomorrow, but when he pictured you standing there in her place, he was filled with a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach he couldn’t deny.

Which is what led him to knocking on Willow’s door at one in the morning.

It took a few minutes before she woke, bleary eyed and confused as to why her fiance was seeking her out so late in the night. “Matthew? What is it? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.” She pulled her robe tighter around her body, as if trying to shield Matthew’s eyes from her.

That was another superstition Matthew didn’t like. He nearly begged Willow to spend the night with him before the wedding, not buying into the ‘bad luck’ bullshit people always said about sleeping together before the ceremony, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I know, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I think we need to talk,” Matthew said. He was still dressed in his suit from the dinner, though he’d shed his jacket and tie long ago. Willow’s face fell at his words, but she let him inside her room anyway.

Matthew sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly and fiddled with his thumbs as Willow sat next to him. Silence filled the room. Matthew didn’t know how to say it.

“Is this about Y/N?” Willow asked calmly after a few minutes passed. “I saw you two talking outside earlier.”

Matthew looked at his fiance, her eyes sad and face dismal. He nodded.

“I figured,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said because he didn’t know what else to say.

Then Willow said the most unexpected thing.

“It’s okay.”

Matthew’s confusion was clear on his face, and Willow let out a genuine laugh as she took his hand in hers.

“I thought if you saw her and she moved on, we could’ve made this work, but that wasn’t the case, was it?” She asked, and Matthew nodded again.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she continued. “I always knew you still loved her.”

“I really did love you,” Matthew said. “I do love you… it’s just…”

“You love her more,” Willow finished for him.

“I am sorry,” Matthew pleaded. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but then I saw her and… I can’t let her go.”

“I know,” Willow said, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and then let out a deep sigh. “Well, I guess we better tell our folks the wedding’s off, huh?”

-

Matthew showed up to your place a month later.

He stood outside your apartment, nervous and shaking, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You hadn’t heard from him since booking the first flight out of Calgary, dodging all his calls and texts that came in over the week after his wedding. You effectively stayed off social media, deleting all the apps you knew you still had Matthew on in fear of seeing wedding pictures.

The surprise on your face was evident when you answered the door to find Matthew on the other side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon or something?” You asked.

“I didn’t go through with it. I couldn’t after seeing you,” Matthew explained. “Can I come in?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let Matthew follow you inside. He’d never seen your apartment before. You’d moved places shortly after your breakup, trying to erase the memories of Matthew that existed on every surface of your old apartment.

He held out the flowers for you, which you took and placed into a vase and filled with water. Matthew’s eyes roamed your new place, taking in all the photos you had on your fridge to the books you kept on your bookshelves.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” You asked.

Matthew’s gaze focused back on you. “I always hated it when you called me Matthew.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want?” You rephrased, ignoring his comment.

“I want to give us another shot,” Matthew answered confidently.

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting him to say, but it was definitely not that.

“Matthew—”

“And before you tell me how bad of an idea it is, because I know that’s what you’re about to say, just hear me out.”

Your mouth snapped shut and you waited for him to continue.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years, and I’m never going to not be in love with you,” Matthew said. “After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I realized that marrying Willow wasn’t what I wanted. When I picture my future I see you in it. I see you at the end of that aisle on our wedding day. I see you and me in a house with a dog and maybe a few kids. I see you waiting for me at home at the end of the day, and I see you beside me when I wake up in the morning.”

“Matthew, we tried this before,” you sighed. “We tried the long distance, and it didn’t work.”

“And I’m willing to try again,” Matthew replied, crossing the few feet of space between you to cup your face in his hands. “We were young and dumb and immature, and I pressured you to change your life for me when I shouldn’t have. I’m not asking you to pack up your life and move to Calgary right now. Hell, if you don't ever want to move to Canada, you don’t have to. I’ll move to wherever you want to be because wherever you are is where I belong.”

“I’m in this for the long haul,” he added. “There is no one else out there for me, and there never will be.”

Tears welled in your eyes at his profession, and Matthew’s thumb came to swipe at a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

“What makes you think this time will be different?” You questioned softly.

“Because I’m different. We’re different. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re all I want.”

“You’d really request a trade for me?” Matthew nodded.

“It wasn’t fair to put that all on you then, and I know that. I shouldn’t have asked you to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself, but I’m telling you now that I’d do anything for you,” he answered.

Throwing your arms around Matthew’s neck, you pressed your entire body into his. Arms tightened around your torso, keeping you snug against him, and Matthew tucked your head into his chest.

“So what do you say? Can you give me a second chance?” He mumbled into your hair.

“I think we’re well past second chances,” you chuckled.

“I promise it’ll be the last one you need to give me,” Matthew laughed, grasping the base of your neck.

In an attempt to blink away his own tears, a few streamed down his cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed away the tears, leaving his cheeks wet, but Matthew had a dopey grin on his face all the same.

“I’m all in,” you replied to his question, and Matthew had to take a second to make sure he heard you correctly.

His grin spread wider, and he crashed his lips to yours, both of your smiles getting in the way but neither of you cared. Matthew peppered your face in kisses: your brow, your cheeks, your nose, your chin. There was not one inch of skin he left untouched.

You giggled in his arms, twisting your face to the side to avoid the tickling of his scruff against your cheeks, but he kept you close to his body.

“I love you,” he said finally, “and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my shit together.”

You caught his lips in a deep kiss. “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Oh, I forgot something,” Matthew said, pulling back just enough to reach his hand into his pocket. 

A small box rested in the palm of his hand, and he opened it to show you the necklace he gifted to you nearly three years ago. When everything ended, you’d given it back to him, and he’d kept it tucked away in his bedside drawer since then.

The dainty ‘19’ hung from the chain, and Matthew undid the hook and looked at you with hopeful eyes. Your stomach did a flip as you turned around, and Matthew draped the jewelry around your neck, connecting it in the back and placing a soft kiss on the skin right above it.

“Now everything’s right where it belongs.”