In The Middle Of The Night

me!; peter parker.

track sixteen of LOVER

pairing: tom holland!peter parker x gn!reader

synopsis: the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate

word count: 2.4k

From what you’ve heard, New York City isn’t that different in colour than it is in black and white. When you’re deep in the city and the skyscrapers are towering over you, the seas of blacks, whites, and greys that you can see doesn’t really affect anything. You’ve met people in the past that lived by the sea or in the country when the lack of colour is more prominent, but you consider yourself lucky that in a city it’s not that big of a deal. Sure it would be nice to be able to see the colour of your mother’s favourite flowers or appreciate the blue of a summer sky when there’s not a cloud to be seen, but it’s not necessarily impractical for you to not be able to see colours.

That doesn’t mean that a part of you doesn’t ache when yet another one of your friends sends an excited message to your group chat that she’s met her soulmate. You smile at the message and send the appropriate messages of congratulations but it’s a wistful smile more than anything, and it fizzles out the good morning you’d been having. The number in your group that haven’t met your soulmate yet is dwindling, and sometimes it’s hard to feel like you’re not being left behind. You know that you’ll meet your soulmate when the universe decides it’s time but you’re starting to feel the edges of frustration growing in your subconscious. You went through both middle and high school without meeting your soulmate, and now you’re in your second year of college, it’s starting to feel like the universe is just toying with you.

You finish the remains of your lukewarm coffee before saving the assignment you’d forgotten you were working on and shut your laptop down. The warm atmosphere of the coffee shop you’d been residing in seems to have dulled slightly at the news, and you’re more in the mood now to go and throw a mini pity party for yourself than worry about your communications assignment. You’re quick to gather all your belongings and load them into your backpack, swinging it over your shoulder as you make your way to the exit. You throw a quick smile at the baristas as you walk through the door onto the crowded street outside. It's almost spring and the warmth in the air seems to have brought everyone outside as you try to make your way through the crowd to the nearest subway station to get home.

It's the sound of a scream that makes everyone stop around you. Attacks in New York are sadly all too common so people quickly start to move on, hoping to avoid whatever maniac in a suit is causing chaos today. You manage half the walk home before the sound of something crashing into a building just down the street really sends people into a panic. You find yourself struggling to move forward as people become more erratic at getting away before they get hurt, and it feels like for every step forward you manage, people shoving past you pushes you five steps back. It finally seems to clear in front of you and it doesn’t occur to you to worry why that is, just that you should try and keep moving and get away from whatever is going on around you. It’s only when you hear a woman scream that you turn just in time to see a huge block of cement flying through the air and heading in your direction.

In what you're going to later categorise as a very uncharacteristic moment, you find yourself freezing in place at the danger in front of you. It's only a blur of grey and an arm wrapping around your waist that jolts you from your mind as you're pulled into the air and away from the slab of concrete that definitely would've killed you if it had been given the chance to make contact with your body. It takes your brain a good few seconds to process what's happening to you as you feel solid ground back underneath your feet and the arm is removed from your side. You’re vaguely aware of someone speaking to you but your brain isn’t quite caught up and it’s all you can do to not collapse as your legs start to shake as what just happens begins to settle in your mind. The words being spoken to you start to become clearer as the fog slowly lifts from your brain.

“Hey miss, are you okay? Can you hear me?” You finally feel like you’re able to open your eyes without throwing up and it’s all you can do to let out a groan of discomfort. When you finally look up to see the person who pulled you from certain doom, your first thought is that you didn’t think you’d ever get this close to the masked vigilante that’s been swinging around New York for the last few years. That thought is immediately shut down though, when colours start to bloom into your vision, starting with the deep red of his mask and bleeding out into everything else in your vision. He seems equally startled by the revelation, stumbling back from you slightly as if he’d been burned. “Oh my god.”

“You can say that again.” The two of you continue staring at each other, or at least you’re staring at him. The mask makes it difficult to tell if he’s staring at you but you have a feeling that he is. You can also tell that he’s panicking slightly about the situation that’s just unfolded in front of you both.

“You just almost died!” He takes one of your hands from your side and it’s only then that you notice how much you’re shaking. You can’t tell if it’s from finally meeting your soulmate or if it’s from the near death experience and you decide to chalk it up to both. “What’s your name?” The voice is softer now, quieter now he seems to have reassured himself that you’re physically okay.

“(Y/N). I’m assuming I can’t ask you yours?” Spiderman shakes his head slightly, and the shifting of the vibrant red hurts your eyes slightly as you still find yourself adjusting to being able to see colours.

“I have to go and stop Scorpion, but I promise I’ll find you. Is there anywhere I can meet you when this is over?”

“I’m meant to have a class later. I study journalism and communications at NYU.” Your soulmate lets out a noise of consideration at your words.

“What class do you have later?”

“Journalism 301.” He seems to contemplate something for a moment before speaking again.”

“I have that class too. I’ll meet you on the benches outside the building.” You step back at his words, and when you speak confusion is heavy in your tone.

“You’re a student?”

“If these guys with masks keep attacking during my classes I might struggle to graduate but for now my GPA is holding enough for me to stay a student, yeah. I have to go before I lose Scorpion but meet me after class later?”

“Will I know who you are?”

“I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out later huh?” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and turning around, jumping up and sending a web towards a building to pull himself into the sky. Some passers-by run over to you as he swings away, checking that you’re physically unharmed, and then you’re being walked to the nearest subway station by a friendly older woman who wouldn’t hear of you making the five minute walk by yourself. She only leaves your side as you step onto your train, thanking her for what must be the tenth time in five minutes.

The journey back to your dorm is silent, and you’re relieved that your roommate isn’t there so you can take some time to process what’s happened. It’s nice to see your dorm as most other people see it, a multitude of colours all over the walls and the pictures of you and your friends in colour. You cringe slightly at some of the pictures from a few years ago, back when none of you could see colour and you’d all refused to let your parents tell you what colours you were wearing. You make a mental note to call your mom and berate her for letting you walk around in an outfit with such clashing colours before falling back onto your bed.

When you make it to your journalism class, you can barely focus. You take a seat at the back of the class, and you barely make any notes, too busy watching every guy in the class to see if any of them look over to you more than just for fleeing glances. When your professor announces that the class is over, you’re slow to pack up your things and you’re one of the last to walk out. When you walk out of the building, there’s only one person sitting on the benches, and he’s not facing you but you know who it is. The familiar mop of curly hair gives away your soulmate’s identity and you freeze in place. Peter Parker is Spiderman? You walk towards him, only slowing when he turns to face you.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m-“

“Peter Parker.” You see a flash of surprise on his face when you say his name before him.

“You know who I am?”

“You’re like the smartest guy in our class Peter, everyone knows who you are.” The small flush of pink on his cheeks as you compliment him is sweet, even if you were being sincere.

“I figured we could talk? About everything that happened today?” You give him a slow nod, watching as he jumps to his feet, pulling his backpack in front of him and opening it. He’s quick to pull out a small bouquet of flowers, a mix of yellow and pink flowers, and hold them out towards you. “I didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so the florist suggested these.” His nervousness is endearing and you can’t not smile at the gesture.

“They’re lovely, thank you Peter.”

"I guess we have a lot to talk about huh? Do you, uh, wanna grab a coffee? My treat?"

"Coffee sounds great. I'll buy though, I owe you for saving my life after all." It surprises you that the walk to the coffee shop is filled with conversation, like you’ve known Peter for years. It’s almost uncanny the way you seem to finish each other's sentences and are on a similar wavelength. It’s even stranger that you realise that you’ve shared a number of classes in the past few years, and how the two of you have never run into each other before feels like a mean twist of fate, to have him so close and yet so far away.

The two of you spend six hours sitting in the coffee shop talking about anything and everything. The time passes without either of you properly realising and it’s with an almost embarrassing lack of awareness that one of the baristas has to ask you to leave because they’ve reached closing time and you’re both still there. You spend the walk back to campus laughing about it, poking fun at each other for it. It’s even stranger when you work out that your dorm buildings are practically next to each other. You both decide to head up to his dorm since Peter doesn’t have a roommate so you can talk about everything that can’t be discussed in a public setting, or at least somewhere with prying ears. You’re vaguely glad you’re not going back to your dorm, you’d left it in something of a state before leaving this morning and hadn’t felt mentally up to tidying after almost dying and meeting your soulmate in the same event.

Peter’s dorm is small but cosy, decorated with pictures of him with his friends and an older woman whom you’re assuming is a relative. You can’t help but smile at how happy he looks, and a part of you is so excited to meet all these people that he holds most dear to him. You try not to make it too obvious how you’re trying to absorb everything about Peter but when you look at him and see the fond smile on his face you know you’ve been caught. He invites you to sit on his bed whilst he pulls the chair out from under his desk and turns it so he can face you. It’s the first time you’ve had a moment of pure silence between you since you met after class and it seems like neither of you are sure who should go first. You decide it should be you to speak first.

“So, are we going to speak about this afternoon?”

“Yeah, I guess we should. Are you sure you’re okay?” You break the eye contact you were holding, eyes shifting down to the floor as you think about how today could have ended. You could’ve died today. You’re lucky that Peter had been there to save you, the whole thing still doesn’t feel real.

“I think so? I mean I don’t think it’s hit me yet? Not properly anyway.” Peter nods at your admission, a look of understanding on his face.

“That’s understandable.”

“Thank you for saving me. I completely froze when I saw that concrete coming at me and I just…I dunno, thank you.” You’ve noticed that Peter gets bashful whenever you compliment him and you make a mental note to keep doing so, he’s clearly not used to receiving praise for what he does, probably because of his need to stay anonymous.

“I was just doing my job.” His humility is clearly a knee-jerk reaction to any and all attempts to credit him for just how much he’s doing to keep the people of this city alive and safe, and you make it a personal mission to spend every day of the rest of your lives together making sure he knows he’s amazing.

“Your job is incredible. To do all of that on your own whilst being a full time student? I don’t know how you do it.” You gesture for him to join you on his bed and, when he does, you take one of his hands into your own. He seems to melt into your touch and it’s in that moment you know that this is exactly where you’re meant to be and exactly who you’re meant to be with.

Y/N: Zoe always gives Daniel flowers, it would be nice if you did the same.

Zack: Alright.

Zack: *gives Daniel flowers*

Daniel: Thank you, but... why?

Zack: I'm confused as well.

That Girl - Austin Ames

Pairing: Austin Ames x Reader

Characters: Austin Ames

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 476

Author: Hannah

Keep reading

No one else could've played Chandler Bing. Thank you for making us laugh and always putting a smile on our faces.

We will miss you and you will always be remembered.

Rest in peace, Matthew Perry ❤

oh my god...

so the first screenshot is trying to look this up on tiktok normally, "donald trump rigged election" and it says that search violates community guidelines.

the second screenshot is looking up the same exact thing, but with a (australian) vpn on. canadian vpn didn't fix it fyi.

THIS is exactly the type of censorship to be looking out for on tiktok. this actually is crazy.

Got tagged and decided to try it out...

@wondering-how-we-got-this-far

this picrew was just so cute so I'm starting a picrew chain :) (it has the best outfits I'm not even joking)

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2073318

no pressure tags (i don't know enough people for this so sorry if we never talk and I randomly tagged you lmao) @rissslays @qwerty-keysmash @tulips-best @medicine-and-molly @octoberconstellation @loveution @dianneorshirbert @august-taylors-version @everycornerofthishouseishaunted @yarkayaslava @ikinregulusblack @ghwoust @nessasluhvs @waitingforthesunrise + anyone else who wants to join :) <3

dr cuddy’s weekly performance review

Reblog daily for health and prosperity