#which'll be nice

[luv-again]

woo !! over 500 words tonight. found cream, up to saving her now yippee !!! lucky to have done so much tonight (i expected less tbh). wish i could have done more but i am more than happy w the progress i made tonight

gonna work my ass off to get to this black hawk ride and round it off before due date

[cxpperhead]

Due to the nature of his work, Copperhead isn't active every night. He may spend a week hunting somebody down before delivering the coup de grâce, leaving him with a little free time before picking up his next contract. Copperhead often spends his free time caring for the various snakes and other reptile species that come into his care; sometimes these are animals belonging to former victims but often they are creatures which have been neglected or improperly cared for in some way, the serpent metahuman carefully nursing them back to health before making sure they end up in good hands.

[ieatwormsandtheytasteverygood]

Guess which bitch now has room on its phone for instagram for the first time in like 3 years. This is only good bc now we can post art there again.

Not that instagram is nice to artists or anything. Just that our art tumblr is so very tiny and unused. Gonna probably have to clear it out somewhat when I finally get around to posting art.

[cliveguy]

just got an offer that means basically no matter how badly i fucked up on my final assignments i will probably definitely be moving out this september 🙏🏻

[oculusxcaro]

Okay, I'm sure you're all tired of my bullshit at this point but I've got some good news and bad news! The good news is that everything is going well in life, my health is improving and legs are managing better these days with a healthier diet, exercise and support stockings. The BAD news is, well... guess who's been asked to take on not only extra hours over summer but extra days as well? Das rite, this stupid bitch.

So yeah. That's my schedule, for the next 8 weeks. I've decided if I'm going to get any writing done, I'll be very quiet on discord and IM. Sundays and Wednesdays I'll have days off and will likely be more talkative but as I'm expected to look after family and do chores in the morning before work, I'll have to squeeze in what writing I can. Less memes bullshit, more actual replies so apologies in advance for going quiet until September. In the meantime, I'll be sure to stalk you all and send you stuff from time to time! I'll have to hold off on Roman and Kirk a little longer unless the mood strikes for some reason but Roman is definitely getting a remake at some point this year. Will be able to enjoy some breathing space for a couple of months before Christmas starts.

[yoshistory]

god the vacuum i got 2nd hand from someone hasnt been working right and VERY loud so i took it apart and. there's an empty tube that used to hold weed inside the vacuum blocking the tube that puts the garbage inside the holder. lmao

[todayisafridaynight]

prob dont gotta say it. Again. but no stream today i still want my hand to rest

[erb23]

If nothing else, I think more movies should definitely commit to bigger press tours because I can not be making plans to go see something if I only become aware of it the week of release.

[copperbadge]

The Chicken Salad War is not really an enemies-to-lovers in the strictest sense, because most of the animosity between Simon and Ylias is pretty friendly once they get past their initial spat, but there are a few scenes that are genuinely combative.

Sometimes when I write I'll jump around a little, write a scene I like so that I've got it down and can build up to it without hurry, but I'm at a point where usually I can just sit down and write the story straight through beginning to end, then just go back and tweak stuff. I was really struggling to do that with Chicken Salad War and I realized it was because I didn't want to write the combative scenes but by habit I didn't want to skip past them, either. Once I gave myself permission to skip past them I made a lot more progress, so that's good.

However, I'm now nearly done with the story...so all that's left to write are the scenes I skipped to begin with, and now I have to write all of them.

I did not, perhaps, fully think this plan through.

I do have the rest of the story as a framework, which should make things easier, but I am laughing at myself. Oh, you don't like writing fight scenes and confrontation? Let's see you write five of them in a row, you bastard.

Still, it's clocking in right now at around 65K words and probably only needs another 10K or so, which'll make it the shortest since Infinite Jes, a nice return to brevity.

Also there's a plot twist in this one that I am dying to tell someone about but I don't want to spoil it for anyone, so my reward for writing these damn scenes will be that eventually I get to inflict it on everyone. :D

[noforkingclue]

Hello! Can I request Mycroft Holmes with the prompt “your hands are freezing! come here, let me warm you up.”? If you don’t write for him, care to share what crochet project are you working on? (I love your work, both the stories and the crocheting).

Thank you and have a lovely day!

Of course I write for him anon! To be honest, I kinda prefer Mycroft to Sherlock. I went along the sunshine and grumpy route!

As for my crafting, I've got a few dolls I'm working on. I've also just started a new knitting project which'll take me fucking ages with lots of new techniques. It'll be a nice challenge for me though :)

Hope you like the fic!!!

Title: First Meeting

Prompt list: list

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“Oh hello, I didn’t hear you come in!��

Your voice was far too cheerful for the dreary Monday morning. You gave Mycroft and bright smile and you dried your hands on the tea towel. Your raised your eyebrows as you waited for him to answer.

“Umm,” you said at last, “Are you waiting for someone? Did Mrs H let you in?”

“I let myself in.”

“Ah,” you bit your lip and looked away, “are you waiting for Sherlock.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re a client.”

“No,” Mycroft sighed, “I’m his brother.”

“His… oh, so your Mycroft!”

“Sherlock’s mentioned me.”

“Once or twice.”

You threw the towel over your shoulder and walked over, hand outstretched.

“I’m y/n l/n.”

Well, he knew that already. Mycroft stared at your hand for a second before, mainly out of some sense of manners, he took it. You let out a gasp of shock as you looked down at your joined hands in shock.

“Your hands are freezing! Come here, let me warm you up.”

Another reason for Mycroft’s less than favourable mood- he couldn’t find his gloves. Unusual for someone as meticulous as him. He knew everything about everyone (or can easily find out if he didn’t have the information to hand) and yet he couldn’t find his gloves. It must be some childish and petty prank played by Sherlock.

“I must-“ he started but you waved a hand

“I was able to put the kettle on anyway. Besides, I’m sure you’d be more comfortable to wait for Sherlock with a cuppa.”

You came back and put down a plate of biscuits.

“Freshly made,” you said, “I don’t usually but I had more than enough and really I think John and Sherlock needed them more than my colleagues.”

Well, it would be rude to turn them down. Mycroft listened to your chatter from the kitchen. In any other circumstance he would’ve found it inane but instead he found it strangely… he actually didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling.

“Mrs H let me have the flat downstairs,” you said, “reduced rent as long as I sort out the damp. She’s kinda like an auntie to me even though we’re not related. I’ve known her since birth, you see. Anyway, getting a bit off topic,” you came back in and handed him a cup of tea, “here you go, that should warm you up!”

You sat down opposite him and curled up in the chair Sherlock usually occupied. You took a sip of your own drink and said,

“I’m sure Sherlock won’t be long. He had one of his,” you waved a hand and wrinkled your nose, “flashes and ran out. I’m guessing you must be used to them.”

“Hmm.”

Mycroft gave you a tight lipped smile as he took a sip of the drink you had given him. Loath as he was to admit it, you were right- it was warming (and you could surprisingly make a decent cup of tea). You gave him a bright smile as he did so and Mycroft felt the unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, feeling return. This could become dangerous.

The sound of the front door slamming open caused you to jump and you hissed as the hot liquid splashed onto your fingers. Mycroft glared at the door as it flung open and his brother stood in the doorway. His gaze flicked between you and Mycroft and he could see the cogs turning in his head.

“See,” you said brightly, “I told you he wouldn’t be long.”

You stood up and walked towards the door.

“I’ll leave you two to it. I’m sure you have matters of great national importance to discuss.”

“I doubt it.” Muttered Sherlock

“I’ll return your mug later Sherlock,” you said, ignoring his comment, “maybe I’ll see you around, Mycroft.”

“No you won’t.” Sherlock said before Mycroft could reply

Sherlock firmly put his hands on your shoulders and gave you a push out the door. You gave him an affronted look but didn’t comment. Yes, maybe Mycroft will see you again.

[foone]

I know this is a bit silly, but will you ever add the "It is now safe to turn off your computer." screen from Windows 95 to deathgenerator?

Also the new gallery view is nice, but I think there should be a button near the top of it to go back to the old name view.

Probably not. That screen is... weird. It's not actually a text engine, it's a bitmap, and a strangely composed one too (the aspect ratio is all wrong because of technical reasons) and the font is a hand-tweaked version of the base font. It's just not a great choice, sorry.

And yeah. The gallery kinda got hacked in last-moment as a replacement for a complete navigation overhaul that had dragged on for way too long, so I skipped on elements.

You can always click into a specific generator and then click "Show other generators", which'll give you a complete text list, like how it used to work.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 13

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

AO3

Summary: As she adjusts to life without DeMarco, Susie finds catharsis with the arrival of a new face at Thorpe Abbotts

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy @justheretoreadthxxs @blakelysco-pilot

A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter has taken soooo long. I got really stuck on this one for some reason, and I've rewritten this chapter several times, but I hope you enjoy it!!

Hiya Suze

If you get this letter, it'll probably come as a bit of a surprise. By now I'm sure you've got my footlocker - which means you've read what I left inside as well. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that I meant every word, but I'll say it all again if you want. I was nervous when I wrote it. I wasn't sure you'd wanna hear what I had to say, but now I know you'll need it.

I'm alive. I love you. I miss you every day.

I got picked up with Gale and some of the others when the plane went down. We're in a POW camp now, but it ain't so bad. We got beds and food and we're all here together, so I don't want you to worry. There's a library here too, which'll probably be getting a lotta use if I'm here a long while. You should send me a list of your favourite books, I'll see if I can find any of them.

Look after Meatball - make sure he doesn't forget his Pops. I'm only allowed to send one letter at a time, so I left a note at the end of this for my folks. If you'd mind passing on a message to let them know where I'm at, that'd be swell.

I dunno how long this'll take to get to you, but do me a favour and write back as soon as you can. I wanna hear everything, even the stuff you think's boring, cuz knowing you I'll only get a paragraph back if you edit that stuff out.

It's cold here without you. I'm not really a praying man, but I pray this will all be over soon so I can see you again.

All my love,

Benny

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Susie wasn't quite sure how many times she'd read Benny's letter, poking through the words over and over and over again until she could practically recite them from memory. She knew whatever the real number was would undoubtedly be embarrassing - there was mercy in not knowing. No one said a word when she slept with it tucked beneath her pillow.

Dear Benny

I've started calling you Benny now that you're not here. It still feels weird. I went to see my sister Beatrice after you went down, before I knew you were ok. She's divorcing her husband, and we talk on the phone a lot. I think we're doing better. It's nice.

Not much in the way of news to report. We've had some bad missions lately - I hope at least some of them end up where you are.

I think Maeve fancies one of Rosie's crew. Not sure which one yet. Will let you know once I figure it out. She says hi, and also wants to know if you'll sign off on letting her look after Meatball when I'm busy (He's still not allowed in my truck. Not happening.)

I know you can only send letters every now and then, but I don't know how many you can receive. I'll keep writing whenever anything letter-worthy comes up - let me know if you get them.

I hope it's not too long before I hear from you again.

I miss you too.

Susie

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Why was it so hard to write down? He wasn't even here - she'd never have to see the way his face lit up when he read those words, imagining them with her voice. Perhaps that was why. Perhaps, as difficult as it was for her to say, Susie could only bear to say it to his face. She stared at the letter in her hands, fighting the sudden urge to ball the paper up in her fist. He deserved more than these words - something substantive and real and tender to keep him going wherever he was. But when Susie reached for those things, nothing came.

With a sigh, she slotted the letter into its envelope.

She squinted against the icy wind as she stepped outside, letter tucked in her pocket, wrapping her coat tighter around herself, knuckled turning red and sore in the cold. Her scarf flapped back and forth, loose strands of hair catching in the corner of her mouth, and Susie almost lost her balance as the weight of another body fell against her, arms flung around her neck as she tried not to skid against the gravel. "Fuckin' hell," She chuckled, Maeve's laughter ringing in her ear as the girl planted her feet firmly back on the ground, falling in step beside her, arms still slung around Susie's neck in a sideways embrace.

"Morning," Maeve chirped, gloved fingers drumming an incoherent rhythm against her shoulder.

"Where've you been?"

"Took Meatball for a walk before breakfast. Saw Blakely - he says we should come by the O-Club for drinks since we haven't been in a while. Oh, and fun news for you," She had begun to smirk.

"Oh yeah?" Susie asked, pulling her scarf up to warm her chin.

"They want you training the newbie today."

Her expression contorted into an immediate grimace at the prospect. "Oh, no, I was supposed to go up to Norwich today."

"Yeah, they've given me that job."

"Are you fucking kidding?"

"Nope. Apparently she's from London."

Susie groaned, leaning sideways with her full weight until Maeve had to stagger to keep upright, a giggle escaping her. "Oh, come on," She whined. "Bet she's never seen a single-track road in her fucking life."

"Yeah, alright, Manchester," Maeve scoffed. "Get off yer high horse."

Shrugging the girl's arms off from around her, Susie snorted, readjusting her scarf. "Yeah, yeah. Just lemme go deal with it, unless you have someone else's job to steal."

"I'm happy just taking yours, actually," Maeve teased, laughing as Susie elbowed her in the side.

"Whatever. Just need to post this letter and then you can fuck off."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The engine of Maeve's truck roared as she pulled out of the ATS depot, heading out on the job that should have been Susie's. As she watched her go, she sighed. She'd never imagined anyone could yearn to go to Norwich, yet here she was. Drumming her fingers impatiently against the back of her clipboard, she crossed the yard towards the furthest garage, where her truck was parked.

A girl was standing awkwardly beside it, staring down at her feet as she tugged at her jacket, which didn't quite fit her properly. Her jet-black curls were pulled back into a tight ponytail, so neat that Susie found herself pondering at how long it must have taken.

She paused, glancing down at her notes. "... Private Banerjee? Yes?"

The girl looked up with a start, clearing her throat nervously. "Eva's fine. But yeah - no, yeah, that's right."

Susie paused a moment, slightly taken aback by her anxious exuberance. "Jesus, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"... Right. And you can drive?"

"Mhm. Although they said they're not letting me have a truck for a while."

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm in charge," With a shrug, Susie strolled past Eva and around the truck, patting a hand against the bonnet. "Hop in. Driver's side."

Eva moved before she had quite processed the instruction, pausing after her first step. "Wait. Seriously?"

"That's an order, Private," Susie called as she climbed into the passenger seat, a glint in her eye that suggested she was enjoying this. The new girl slid into her seat hesitantly, slightly put off by this.

"I think we'll just do a lap of the base first, 'n I'll show you where everything is."

"Yes, sir... Ma'am?"

She pulled a face. "I'll call you Eva if you call me Susie."

Eva chuckled. "Deal."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The engine hummed quietly as the truck rested on the side of the road, windows rolled up against the winter cold as Susie pointed out the buildings that surrounded them. "That's the mess over there, and past it's the Officers' club," She grunted slightly, shuffling forward in her seat to get a better view. Eva craned her head, squinting as her gaze followed the line her finger made.

"What's this one?" She asked, gesturing to the closest hut.

"Debrief. You probably won't need to go in there, though."

"What's debrief?"

"It's where they send the flight crews after a mission - go over everything that happened, get a count of who went down, yunno."

At the mention of lost crews, Eva seemed to tighten, her shoulders going stiff as she sat back in her seat, staring down into her lap. Susie watched her for a moment, letting out a sigh. Propping a knee up on the seat, she turned to face her.

"Hey," She offered gently. "I'm not gonna lie to you and say this job's easy, that wouldn't do you any favours. We live around these guys and, yeah, sometimes it's hard not to get attached. You might meet someone who means a lot to you, who you swear you couldn't bear to lose. I've-" Susie paused. "... I've heard that can happen, anyway."

Gnawing at the inside of her lip, Eva nodded, tearing her gaze away from the hands folded in her lap. As she glanced up, something caught her eye, and she paused for a moment, a slight smile curling her lip.

"... Is she your sister? She looks like you."

Caught off guard, Susie looked up, noticing the old photo of Ellie still stuck to the rearview mirror. She felt her hand twitch, fighting that old recurring urge to snatch the picture away, to keep her a secret clutched tight to her chest.

But the thing was, Ellie would have never wanted to be anyone's secret. Ellie's dreams had been far too big for that.

"Uh, yeah. She was prettier than me though."

Eva's smile widened, and Susie couldn't tell if she hadn't noticed her use of the past tense, or if it simply didn't bother her.

"Yeah, mine was too."

The reply caught her by surprise. People always offered condolences. No one ever seemed to understand her. In spite of herself, she smiled. How long had it been since Susie had thought of her sister and smiled?

"What was her name?" She asked slowly.

"Sruthi," Eva nodded. "She was born back in India, and then my parents had me when they moved here. I think when they named me they wanted me to fit in with the other English kids, but I was always a bit jealous of her."

Susie chuckled, nodding. "Mine was called Ellie. She was annoying, but in that way younger siblings always get away with, yunno?"

Eva laughed in agreement. "Oh, yeah - I was always like that. Jumping on her to wake her up in the morning-"

"She did that too!" Susie blurted loudly, suddenly realising she was grinning - really, truly grinning. The pair chuckled, easing into comfortable silence. Outside the window, a group of flight and ground crew wandered past, chatting to one another, bundled in their coats and scarves. A flash of reddish hair marked Charlotte out among them, Meatball weaving between her legs, his leash secure in her hand.

"Why is everyone stealing my dog today?" She muttered, temple pressing against the cold glass as she angled for a better look.

"They let you have a dog?!" Eva gasped, shuffling forward on the edge of her seat as she searched for him.

"Well," Susie shrugged, pausing to rummage in the glovebox for a snack. "He's my partner's dog really - he brought him over from Greenland, but he's in one of those POW camps, so I'm looking after it. He's kinda becoming communal property though."

"Shit, I'm sorry," Eva frowned, accepting a slightly crumbled biscuit as the packet was offered to her, the two pausing their conversation to chew for a moment. "I always wanted a dog."

"I'm more of a cat person. But Meatball's pretty good."

"His name's Meatball? That's, uh-"

"It's a stupid fucking name."

A burst of surprised laughter escaped Eva. "Yeah, it kinda is."

"It's like naming your dog fucking Sandwich, but it was already very much a thing by the time I had any say."

Smiling, Eva propped her elbow up against the door, resting her chin against her knuckles.

"... What's your boyfriend's name?" She asked tentatively.

"Benny. He is the most annoyingly persistent person you'll ever meet in your life, but it's literally the only reason we ended up being friends in the first place. So I s'pose it was worth it."

It fell quiet again, the type of quiet Susie didn't feel an intense need to pierce. She could sit in this for a while. If she hadn't had a job to do, she would've.

"Alright, c'mon. Let's finish up and head back."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The passenger side door shut with a slam as Susie climbed out, clipboard wedged under her arm as she wrapped her scarf back around her neck against the chill, which showed no signs of subsiding as the morning trailed into afternoon. A puff of breath materialised before her as she rounded the truck, coming up to Eva's window as she cranked it down.

"Not much else I can give you to do today, but if you're back here at eight-thirty tomorrow we'll get you on something. I'll speak to the bosses and see if we can get you a truck a bit sooner, it'll just make things easier."

"Okay," Eva smiled. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no bother," Susie shrugged, glancing down at her notes. "I've got some stuff I've gotta deal with, but me and some of the other girls were gonna head to the Officers' club for drinks later if you wanna come."

"Uh... no-"

"Oh, yeah, no worries," She nodded, frowning slightly.

"No, no! Only because I don't drink, s'all. It sounds nice... I was wondering if I could maybe walk the dog sometime? Or come with you when you take him out?" Eva asked sheepishly, suddenly awkward in a way that made Susie fight the urge to smile.

"Yeah, that sounds good," She smirked. "Come by the hut whenever, he's always happy to see people. He has too much energy for me anyway."

A grin creased the younger girl's cheeks. "Alright!"

"Alright," Susie chuckled, patting the truck door with a thud as she took a step back. "Take her into the garage and then you can head out."

"Yes ma'am."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

DeMarco's gloved hands lay folded across his chest, his back propped up uncomfortably against the bedframe, breath freezing in front of his face. With a bored frown, he watched the spider in the corner of the windowsill, working away at its web, spinning each silver thread with a sense of purpose he could only yearn for, sitting there in the cramped hut.

Despite the bodies that filled it, the place was quiet, exhaustion lulling the downed flight crews into silence. It had been weeks since he'd slept well, and he'd never imagined he could ache for the uncomfortable beds back at Thorpe Abbotts until now. The guard dogs barked at all hours of the night, searchlights glaring at them through the windows over and over and over, around and around and around.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, unmoving, just watching. All he knew was that he didn't have any intention of going anywhere.

The floorboards creaked loudly as Brady hurried in, a handful of envelopes clutched tightly in his gloved palm. The energy in the room shifted, like a pack of dogs whose ears had suddenly pricked. Post came unpredictably, and when it did it always promised to either lift the spirits or crush them entirely.

One by one, Brady sifted through the letters, calling out their anxious recipients.

"DeMarco," He said, holding up a single, battered envelope.

Stillness immediately shattered, DeMarco leapt to his feet, hurrying towards him and snatching the letter swiftly from his grip. The cold numbed his fingertips, even through the gloves, and it was a struggle to tear through the envelope without damaging its contents, forcing restraint despite the agonising need to read whatever words were encased within.

He unfolded the paper, running a hand across his stubbled chin as his eyes scanned through the loops and curls of Susie's handwriting, a grin spreading across his expression as he went. It wasn't until Bucky chuckled beside him that he realised how widely he was beaming.

"What's got you smiling?" He asked with a smirk.

DeMarco let out a breath of laughter, looking up from the page.

"She called me Benny."

[olderthannetfic]

I've been seeing more amateur voice-folks, and I'm saying this with all the niceness I have… please get better before you start shouting into your mic. I'm not expecting professional voice work, but if you're gonna sit your ass on someone's fic or comic, which'll make it impossible to get a new podfic and less likely to get a new voice over for a fan comic, at least know how to do some basic reading/voice work. I've experienced like 5 new podfics and a bunch of random fan comics within less than two weeks, and it was literally just shouting into the mic, and all the characters had the same voice, and the text was read the exact same way as the dialogue... just so loud and shouty. I couldn't even concentrate on what was being read because the voice-person really just started to sound breathless after the first few shouts, and obviously the shouting was just horrible to listen to as well.

--

[starshapedoasis]

Interviewer: How are you and Noel getting on?

Liam: “Smashing. Still have the odd fight... actually I want to smack him now! Right in the kipper! No, great. Everything's fine. We'll never split up, we're brothers. And if Oasis ends, then it'll end on a high. Who knows? We might still be together in 50 years, still playing music, which'll be nice."

- Liam Gallagher for NME July 12th 1997

[thelostdex]

You've asked, and we'll deliver! We are extending our preorder period for a little over a week!

Preorders will now end on November 10th!

We're also well on our way to our 200 order stretch goal, which'll give us a real nice soft-touch cover to go with the zine~

🌟BigCartel - https://thelostdex.bigcartel.com 🌟Etsy (UK) - https://thelostdex.etsy.com

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Of Coffee and Cinnamon Rolls - Chapter 2

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x F!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Peter's coffee maker has broken, leaving him in need of a caffeine fix. Luckily, there's a new coffee shop right by the Daily Bugle... With a beautiful barista inside.

Warnings/Tags: Meet-Cute, Coffee Shops, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Dual, Alternating PoVs between Peter and Reader, minimal use of Y/N

Word Count: ~4k (this chapter got LONG)

A/N: It's taken me freaking FOREVER, but here we finally are with chapter 2! Hopefully future updates won't take me as long.

Tagging @tarzinnia since they've been patiently waiting for an update!!!

Ok, what else needs to be done? you thought to yourself as you bustled around the kitchen in your shop. You had worked your ass off to make your dream of owning your own business a reality, and today that dream was finally coming true, so needless to say... You were nervous.

You grabbed your to-do list off of the prep table and gave it a quick scan. Cookies are bagged, cake pops are finished, muffins are good to go, croissants are ready, banana bread is sliced, cinnamon rolls are done…  

You glanced at the clock. You had way more than enough time to shower and then relax for a bit before things would get busy again.

You made sure your oven was off before heading upstairs to your apartment above the shop. 

You hurried through a shower before changing into something nice enough to wear for your interview and photos, but still comfortable enough to work in.

And speaking of photos...

You grinned. Not only had you been pleasantly surprised to see the hot skater boy-esque customer from the morning come back into the shop in the afternoon right as you had decided to close, but you had been even more pleasantly surprised to find out that he worked for the Bugle and had been the one to suggest that they cover the opening for the paper. 

You had made a flimsy excuse to give him your number and was surprised to receive an incoming text from an unknown number right as you had finished prepping dough for the next morning’s baked goods and popping it in the fridge to chill overnight.

Hi, Y/N. This is Peter.

Peter Parker. 

From the Daily Bugle?

You had quickly washed your hands then sent a reply, a wide smile spreading across your face. Yes, Peter, hi, it's good to hear from you. What's up? :)

Sorry to bother you, but I just thought I'd text you so you'd have my number in case you had any questions about the interview tomorrow.

Oh it's not a bother at all. You've got perfect timing, actually. I just finished prepping dough.

Oh, what are you making?

Well for the opening we're going to have cookies and cake pops in addition to the regular baked goods, which'll be croissants, muffins, banana bread, and of course, cinnamon rolls. I was just trying to get a head start on the dough since I'll be making extra goodies for the grand opening.

Oh man, that all sounds amazing. I'm going to want to try everything.

Lol, I'll be sure to set one of each aside for you. It's the least I can do as thanks for the free publicity.

So what are you up to?

About to attempt to fix my coffeemaker before I have to head out for my other job.

I'll let you get to that then. Good luck!

Thanks. 

You glanced at the clock. You still had an hour and a half until your interview, but maybe Peter was up and wouldn't mind you texting him?

Morning, Peter! you typed. Any luck fixing your coffeemaker?

A few minutes later your phone lit up. 

Peter had sent you a photo of what you assumed was his coffee maker, except it was in pieces. It was captioned, Are there supposed to be leftover parts?

You laughed before sending your reply. Definitely not that many, lol.

You bit your lip. You know, you're more than welcome to come by early if you need a caffeine fix. 

...Only if you want to, of course.

No pressure.

You nervously chewed on your lip as you waited for his answer. After what seemed like the longest 10 seconds of your life, Peter's reply came through. I'd love to. Be there in 15?

You grinned. Sounds good. See you soon.

You set your phone down on your bathroom counter so you could fix your hair, then took another look at yourself in the mirror. Guess this is as good as it's gonna get.

You headed back downstairs to the shop, fixing yourself a cup of coffee before sitting at a table to wait for Peter.

You looked around, smiling to yourself. You had chosen decor that you thought made the shop feel open and welcoming while still somewhat whimsical and hoped that your customers felt the same.

Suddenly there was a tap on the door.

You looked over and grinned when you saw Peter waving at you. 

He was dressed similarly today as he had been the day before, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a buttoned-up flannel over it. His hair was styled in what you assumed was a purposely messy, just-rolled-out-of-bed look and he was wearing black plastic-framed glasses. Damn, he is *hot*.

You waved back before getting up and walking over to the door to let him in. "Peter, hey. Come on in."

"Hi." Peter stepped inside and waited for you to lock the door behind him. "How's it going? All set for the opening?"

You nodded. "Yeah, actually. I live above the shop and couldn't sleep so I went ahead and got everything ready, but I've now found myself with an extra hour to kill."

You gestured to the table where your coffee sat. "Have a seat and I'll get your coffee ready."

You moved behind the counter as Peter set his bag down at the table. "Want anything to eat?" you asked.

Peter shook his head. "No thanks, I warmed up a cinnamon roll before I left."

You nodded and the machine to brew. "So how are you this morning?"

Peter shrugged. "Had a bit of a long night at my second job, but I'm good."

"Glad to hear that, despite the long night." You waited until the machine shut off and brought Peter his coffee. “Here you go.”

Peter smiled at you. “Thanks.”

You sat across from him and took a sip of your own beverage. "So what is the second job, if you don't mind me asking? Wait, let me guess... Private investigator?"

Peter laughed. "No, what gave you that idea?"

You shrugged, unable to help but smile at his adorable chuckle. "I dunno, it's the first thing that popped in my head that required a camera besides being a photojournalist."

Peter shook his head. "Actually, it has nothing to do with photography. I'm a security guard."

"Oh ok, that's neat. Where at?" You grimaced. Ugh, way to sound like a stalker.

You shook your head. "Wait, I'm sorry. I realize that sounds extremely nosy. I just meant that I'm planning on being down here late most nights doing prep for the next day, so… I mean, if you happen to work nearby you're welcome to drop in for a cup of coffee or some leftover pastries."

Peter shrugged. "It's fine. I just kind of fill in wherever I'm needed, which usually makes for a pretty flexible schedule but also long days, hence my immense and near-constant need for caffeine." 

He took a sip of his coffee. "But, uh, yeah. If I happen to find myself in the neighborhood I'll text you, if you don't mind?"

You smiled with relief. "Yeah, that'd be great."

The next hour flew by as you and Peter continued talking. Peter told you about growing up with his aunt and uncle, about his love of science, and about how he had gotten interested in photography, and in turn you told him about your own childhood and what had led you to want to open your own coffee shop.

"My grandmother taught me how to bake," you explained. "And she always added a splash of coffee to the wet ingredients for whatever we were making. 'The coffee is the secret ingredient,' she would always tell me. ‘But the true secret can only come from within’."

"So what is the true secret?" Peter asked, seemingly intrigued.

You shrugged. "I don't know. She said I would figure it out when the time was right."

Peter huffed out a laugh. "Well if you haven't figured it out yet I can't wait until you do. Your cinnamon rolls are excellent as is."

Your face heated. "Thanks."

Suddenly there was a knock on the front window.

You looked up in surprise then smiled brightly when you spotted your best friend, Ian, waving at you. You had made plans to go out to dinner with him that evening to celebrate the grand opening of Bean There, so you were pleasantly surprised to see him now. 

You stood. "Oh, sorry, hold on a second.”

You went over to the door and unlocked it, letting Ian in.

"Hello, love," Ian said in his crisp British accent before giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, sweetheart," you replied. "What a surprise, I thought I wasn't seeing you until tonight."

Ian shook his head. "I just wanted to stop by on my way into the office to wish you good luck on your opening today."

You smiled. Ian had been your biggest supporter while you had been working to procure the space for your shop and had helped you with choosing the furniture and decor. "Aww, thank you, honey, you're so sweet."

Ian glanced over at Peter, curiosity evident in his eyes. "I tried texting you, but I guess you were busy.”

You patted at your pockets, realization dawning on you that your phone was still sitting on your bathroom counter. "Oh shoot, I must've forgotten my phone upstairs."

Ian shook his head. "It's fine, darling, no big deal. I'm just glad I got to see you."

"Me too." You turned towards Peter. "By the way, this is Peter Parker, the photojournalist from the Bugle . Peter, this is Ian."

"Nice to meet you," Ian said, walking over and shaking Peter's hand.

"Same to you," Peter replied.

"Want anything before you go, sweetheart?" you asked Ian.

Ian grinned in reply. "Oh, darling, you know I can't resist your banana bread." 

"Peter, you want some more coffee?"

Peter looked hesitant, as if he felt bad about accepting your offer. "Uh, sure."

You picked up Peter's cup and walked back over to the coffee machine, grabbing a fresh to-go cup for Ian and putting 2 pumps of strawberry rose syrup and 1 pump of white chocolate syrup in it before programming the machine to brew both his and Peter's coffee simultaneously.

"Have you tried Y/N's banana bread?" you heard Ian ask Peter.

You looked over at them as Peter shook his head. "I've only had her cinnamon rolls."

Ian let out a pleased sound. "It's incredible, mate. Then again, everything she makes is incredible, and trust me, I've tried it all."

"Ian was kind enough to be my taste tester while I was perfecting my recipes for the shop," you explained to Peter, your face warming at Ian's praise as you steamed some milk to add to his coffee.

"Anything to support my girl," Ian said with a wink. “And to get free pastries.”

You finished making Ian's latte then boxed up 2 slices of banana bread for him to take with him. "That reminds me, though..." 

You brought everything back over to the table. "Peter, I boxed up a sample of everything for you. Remind me to give it to you before you leave."

You handed Ian's banana bread and coffee to him. "Here you go, sweetheart. Just like you like it."

Ian took a sip and nodded. "Mmm, perfect as always. Thanks, love."

He gave you another kiss on the cheek then whispered in your ear, “You go, girl. He is gorgeous.”

You giggled and nodded. "I agree."

Ian straightened. "Bye, darling, love you." 

"Love you too. See you tonight."

Ian turned towards Peter. "Nice meeting you."

Peter gave him a slight wave. "Yeah, you too."

You followed Ian to the door so you could lock it back behind him.

You walked back over to Peter and sat once again. “Sorry about that.”

Peter shrugged and cleared his throat. "It's okay. So, how long have you been together?"

Your brow furrowed. "Who, me and Ian?”

Peter nodded, a slightly confused look blooming across his face. “Yeah.”

You shook your head. “Oh no, Ian's not my boyfriend." 

"Oh, he's not?" Peter's cheeks pinkened adorably. "My bad, I just assumed..."

"It's fine, it's a really common misconception. Ian and I have been best friends since 4th grade so we're super close, but it's not in a romantic way at all." 

You and Ian had met on Ian's first day as a new student in your class. You had invited him to sit with you at lunch and had been inseparable since, including spending summers together in England to visit his mom when she had moved back after his parents had divorced while the two of you were in high school and living together as roommates in college.

You let out a light laugh. “Besides, I don't think Ian's husband would be too pleased if I made a move on him, especially since I not only introduced them, but also was Ian's best woman at their wedding.”

Peter laughed. "Yeah, that might make things a bit awkward."

You bit your lip. "I'm, um, I'm actually not seeing anyone at the moment. Been too busy focusing on my career and trying to open my shop. Kinda difficult to find time to date when you're constantly working, you know?"

Peter nodded.  "Yeah, I get that."

You took a sip of your coffee, trying to come off as nonchalant. "So what about you? Seeing anyone?"

"Oh, um, no, I'm not seeing anyone either right now." Peter hesitated momentarily. "Uh, like you said, too busy with work and stuff."

"Yeah."

Peter jumped slightly as his phone rang. He reached into his pocket to pull it out, briefly looking at the screen before swiping to answer the call. “Excuse me a minute. Hey, Betty, what's up?”

You stood, not wanting to eavesdrop on Peter’s conversation.

Peter glanced up at you. "Oh, uh, actually, I'm already here. Uh huh, yeah, sure. No problem. See ya."

He hung up. "Betty said she'll be here soon. She tried to call you."

You nodded. "I should probably go get my phone in case my employee is also trying to reach me. I'll be right back, okay?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. If Betty gets here before you get back, you want me to let her in?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

You got up and headed behind the counter to wash your cup then ran upstairs to grab your phone, taking a moment to breathe before returning downstairs to find Peter talking to the reporter who had set up the interview with you the day before. 

You smiled. "Miss Brant, good morning."

"Hi," Betty replied.

"Can I get you some coffee?"

“Yes, that would be great, thank you.”

"Something to eat? We have croissants, muffins, banana bread, and cinnamon rolls, along with cookies and cake pops for the grand opening."

"Sure, I'll take a cinnamon roll. Thank you."

"Peter? Sure you don't want anything?"

Peter thought for a second. "Well, maybe a piece of banana bread?"

You nodded with a smile. "Coming right up."

Peter pulled out his camera as you walked over to the display case. "Mind if I take a few pictures? I want to get some test shots in before the official opening."

You shook your head. "That's fine."

You plated Betty and Peter's baked goods along with a croissant for yourself and made Betty's coffee while Peter took a few photos.

You slid Peter's slice of banana bread over to him. "Here you go."

Peter took a bite of his banana bread as you carried Betty's coffee and cinnamon roll and your croissant to the table. "Mmph, this really is delicious."

You smiled, pleased that he liked it. "Thanks."

"Okay," Betty said, turning on a digital recorder. "I'd like to get started, if that's okay with you."

You nodded. "Sure."

Betty cleared her throat. "This is Betty Brant with the Daily Bugle interviewing Y/F/N Y/L/N, proprietor of Bean There, Done That. So, Ms. Y/L/N…"

"Y/N, please," you interrupted.

"Y/N," Betty corrected. "Tell me a bit about yourself."

You told Betty much of what you had already told Peter, about baking with your grandmother as a child and how she had left you enough money to start your bakery. "I really miss her," you said, "but I know she's watching over me."

"And how did you come up with the name of your shop?" Betty asked.

You grinned. “My best friend Ian actually suggested that name. I wanted something catchy and memorable so he and I bounced around ideas until we arrived at ‘Bean There, Done That’.”

Betty smiled. "Care to share any of the rejected names?"

"Oh gosh, there were so many, and they got more and more ridiculous as we went on. Let's see, there was 'Caffeinated Bliss', 'Let's Get Roasted', 'Java the Time?', 'Espresso Yourself', and 'The Daily Grind', to name a few." 

You and Ian had drank several bottles of wine at his kitchen table together while coming up with the perfect name for your shop so several of the rejected names had been hilariously inappropriate. “I also considered naming the shop after my grandmother but ultimately decided against it.”

Betty nodded. "I see."

She asked you several more questions while Peter took a few more photos of both you and the shop, then finally turned off her recorder. "Okay, I think that's all the questions I have for you. Thanks for your time."

You nodded and stood. "Thanks for your time as well."

You walked over to the counter and picked up a couple of bakery boxes you had packed while you were getting everything set up. "Here, I packed some baked goods for you and the Bugle staff."

Betty nodded. "Thanks. I'm sure everyone will appreciate it."

She turned to Peter. "Peter, I'll see you at the office later."

Peter nodded. "Yeah, see ya later."

You walked Betty to the door. “Thank you again for your time.”

“You too,” Betty replied. “I'll email you a link to the article once it's live.”

You nodded. “I'd appreciate that.”

"Is there anything else you need to do before the opening, anything I can help you with?" Peter asked once Betty had left.

You shook your head. "Nope, I think everything is set."

Your phone rang, Olivia’s name flashing across the screen. "Oh, sorry, one second. Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N,” Olivia replied over the phone’s speaker. “It's Liv.”

“Oh, yeah, Liv, hi.” You had hired Olivia, who was working her way through college and thankfully had experience as a barista, part-time for weekday mornings but had asked her to come in today for the grand opening since you weren't sure how busy you would be.

“Just letting you know that I'm on my way and will be there in a couple of minutes.”

“Okay, great. I'll see you in a few then.”

“See you soon. Bye.”

“Okay, bye.”

You hung up. "Sorry about that. That was my employee, Olivia. She was just letting me know that she'd be here in a minute so I could open the door for her."

You checked your watch then grabbed your outdoor chalkboard sign, on which you had written ‘Grand Opening! Free samples inside!’. "Actually, it's close enough to 8 to where I think I can just go ahead and open."

Peter walked over to the door. "Here, I'll get the door for you."

You smiled at him as he held it open for you. Hot and a gentleman too. Swoon. "Thanks."

Peter shrugged. "Of course. Oh, that reminds me, I need to get some posed shots of you out in front of the building before you get too busy."

You nodded as you set the sign out front. "Oh, yeah, sure. Where do you want me?"

"Let's see…" Peter stepped back a bit. "How about here next to the sign?"

You moved to stand beside it. "Here?"

Peter shook his head. “Maybe a bit closer?”

You stepped sideways a bit. “How about now?”

Peter checked the shot. "Yeah, that's perfect."

He took a few photos, then checked to make sure they were okay. "Alright, we're good."

You grinned. "Great. Thanks, Peter."

"No problem."

The two of you headed back inside, you pausing to flip the sign on the door from closed to open. “I need to go grab the first batch of samples. One second.”

You went to the kitchen, where you had set up individual bite-size portions of everything on two large, round trays covered with clear domes. 

You brought them out and set them down on the counter before putting a little tag in front identifying what each tray held. “Okay, now I think we're all set.”

A minute later, the bell above the front door chimed and Olivia walked in. 

“Morning, Y/N,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Morning, Liv,” you replied. “Thanks for coming in today.”

Olivia nodded. “No problem. Happy to help out.”

You gestured to Peter. “This is Peter Parker. He's taking photos of the opening for the Bugle. Peter, this is Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said as she grabbed her apron off of a hook by the door to the kitchen area.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, you too.”

You rubbed your hands together. “Okay, Liv, if you take the coffee machine, hopefully we'll start getting some customers in soon.”

“Are you expecting a lot?” Peter asked.

“Fingers crossed. I know that this area is busier during the week than it is on the weekend -- which is why we're only open for four hours on Saturday -- but we sent out a mailer advertising the grand opening with a coupon good for a free baked good with purchase of a coffee today only, so hopefully we get a good turnout.” You looked towards the door as the bell chimed, butterflies fluttering around your stomach in both excitement and nervousness. “And actually, there's my first customer! Let me get to it.”

You and Olivia spent the next two hours serving customers and refilling both the display case and sample trays while Peter took photos. 

“Thank you, come again!” you said to what felt like your millionth customer as the shop finally emptied. “Phew.”

You turned towards Olivia. “Liv, you wanna grab you something to eat and take like a 15-minute break? I'll call you up if I need you.”

Olivia nodded. “That sounds great, Y/N. Thanks.”

“Okay,” Peter said, quickly scrolling through his photos as Olivia left to go take her break. “I think I have everything I need.”

You nodded. “I really appreciate you suggesting that the Bugle cover the opening.”

Peter shrugged. “It's not a problem. Always happy to help out a new business, especially one with such delicious treats.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” You grabbed the bakery box full of goodies you had set aside for him. “Don't forget your samples.”

Peter nodded and took the box. “Oh yeah, thanks. I really appreciate it.”

You pointed towards the coffee machine. “Did you want a coffee for the road? I mean, since your coffee maker at home is still broken.” Not since I'm enjoying having you around and am trying to delay you leaving, even if it's just by a minute or two.

“Yeah, I'd love one.”

“Okay, 1 sec.”

You brewed his coffee, resolutely trying to ignore his eyes on you, then brought it over to him. “Let me know how you like the pastries.”

“Will do. Thanks.” Peter glanced at the door as a couple of customers entered. “So I'll… see you around then?”

You nodded. “That’d be great.” 

“Great.” Peter stepped out from in front of the register so you could help your customers. “Thanks again for the coffee and stuff.”

“No problem.”

You watched as he left, taking advantage of your customers being distracted by studying the menu board to wistfully sigh to yourself. Hopefully I'll see him again soon.