│ xiii. MY GIRL

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THE FORGE — nwh-post( ASHLEE'S VERSION )

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THE FORGE — nwh-post
( ASHLEE'S VERSION )

CLINKS OF GLASS WERE RATHER REFRESHING TO THE EARS OF MARGARET THOMPSON'S EARS

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CLINKS OF GLASS WERE RATHER REFRESHING TO THE EARS OF MARGARET THOMPSON'S EARS. The woman had not gone to a bar in a while. And she had never been to one on another earth, so it was most definitely something she would not be forgetting anytime soon.

Toni had spent the whole night laughing as if she were a machine built to do so. Most of it graced by a tipsy Margaret who cared less about how people looked at her. She looked nothing like MJ Thompson. Therefore she couldn't go to work; keeping a reputation on this earth was useless. In the end, Margaret had to teleport both her and Toni home.

Toni insisted for Margaret to sleep on her couch — or with her to which Marge declined for they were both drunk and she had a slight tinge in her mind of Peter Parker still. It was safe to say Margaret was able to get the best sleep of her drunken life on the luxurious couch was she knew Iverson wasn't recording her sleep talking.

That morning, Margaret woke up to glass shattering. She jumped up quickly, spawning her swords at her side. "Holy shit! Put those up, man!" She yelped. "I just broke a coffee mug."

"Oh." Margaret blushed, letting her swords drop into the black obis for when she needed them again. "Uh- good morning." The woman greeted as her two fingers rubbed her forehead.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄 - Peter Parker ✓Where stories live. Discover now