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#i want to absorb him by osmosis

ruslangazizov · 10 months

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what a happy little cowboy

#toronto maple leafs #london knights #easton cowan #he!!#:D #i want to absorb him via osmosis

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pumpkingeorge · 2 years

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Ever since I told my brother about Ingo and Emmet from Black and White and why Ingo in Hisui is important, he's come up with a weird inside joke.

I told him about the popular headcanon about Emmet keeping hundreds of baby Joltik. He thought it would be funny if something happened to startle them while they were on Ingo and they all bite him at the same time.

Ingo calmly turns to Emmet and in a monotone voice, he'd say "They're biting, Emmet." and that's the joke, but not all of it.

The joke is to send me a picture of a Joltik every time he sees one and he adds the caption "They're biting, Emmet." and he thinks it's hilarious. It's especially funny when he mixes up Joltik and Spinarak, like he did today.

#he has pla and didn't play bw #so i had to explain it to him #otherwise he though ingo was just some weird hobo #the only thing funnier than the joltik thing is mold breaker haxorus #he thought it was the funniest thing in the world when i explained it to him #he's not really into pokemon he just kind of hovers outside of it and absorbs info and jokes via osmosis #he still hasnt beat pla and it is killing me #because i want to talk about the twist #but all he cares about is joltiks biting ingo #???

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can-i-see-your-passport-please · 7 months

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Okay so here's everything I know about TF2. Please no one elaborate on anything I know about, because I think it's so much funnier if I have no context to anything. I have absorbed all of this through Tumblr osmosis

Emesis Blue is an excellent film

Soldier apparently was never an actual soldier, he just loves America and really wanted to kill Nazis (the second one i respect greatly)

Medic would probably give you a lobotomy for fun (i don't think this guy's even a doctor)

Two really old guys are fighting bloody wars over gravel I think and their father is named Grey Mann which was most definitely meant to make Gman enjoyers lose it but to be fair his name could also be Gary Man.

What am I on

Heavy and Medic are apparently gay but idk if this is a fandom seeing two men next to each other and going "gay" thing or a "all but confirmed gay" thing but TVTropes referred to them as "Heterosexual Life Partners" which is very funny

emesis blue is so fucking good oh my godddddd the respawn machine is horrifying just from the concept it turned scout into soup

Scout is half French and loves his mother (who is not french) and does not love his father (spy i think)

Medic presumably died went to hell and told the devil "oh I'm like a cat I have nine souls actually. So I should get to go back to being alive" and it fucking worked??????

THE FUCKING SCENE IN?? IN EMESIS BLUE??? WHERE. WHERE SOLDIER TELLS MEDIC "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT" AND MEDIC SAYS "i KNOW" BEFORE HE JUST FUCKING DIES AND HE'S THE PROTAGONIST SO YOU'D EXPECT HIM TO LIVE RIGHT??? AND THEN HE JUST DIES AND DOESN'T APPEAR AGAIN FOR SO SO LONG

Pyro is an any pronouns warrior and it commits great atrocities while also having so much sillyness in his heart. I love her

I think Engineer blowed up his arm. I think

Spy is a cunt and also French. I do not think this I know this. I look at him and I sense his cuntery. It radiates off him. I can feel it.

SOMETHING ABOUT THE LETTER M BEING BRANDED ONTO MEDIC'S FACE BEING A REFERENCE TO THE MOVIE SCOUT WAS WATCHING WHERE THE LETTER M IS USED TO MARK A MURDERER. HE'S LITERALLY MARKED AS A MURDERER BY PYRO. SOMETHING ABOUT THE SCENE WITH DEMOMAN AND DELL'S BAR BEING A REFERENCE TO A SCENE IN THE SHINING WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS LITERALLY TALKING TO A GHOST. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S MOTHER'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED PARALLELING PYRO'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S "IF THEY EVER HIT YOU WITH SOMETHING, YOU HIT BACK TWICE AS HARD" WITH MEDIC SHOOTING SPY TWICE IN THE HEAD AFTER BEING SHOT ONCE IN THE GAME OF RUSSIAN ROULETTE WHY IS EMESIS BLUE SO GOOD

TF2 is in an eternal war with Overwatch for some reason

I was doing a poll a few days ago and the tags psychic blasted me with the information of "by the way people pay like fifty dollars to see medic's tiddies in game." I have gotten varying answers between ninety dollars to three hundred fucking dollars but the constant remains that people will pay Valve comically high amounts of money to see Medic's boobs. What

Scout almost got Earth exploded because he died a virgin???? But then God was like "Okay go back down to earth I'm giving them one last chance to all have sex with you" I'm so confused what does any of this mean none of this makes any sense but it's hilarious

Scout might be legitimately named after Jerma and bears a frightening resemblance to him (though to be fair scout is every white boy in one)

You should watch Emesis Blue it's free on youtube

Demoman's eye is sentient even though he doesn't have it????

I can't decide who's my favorite the white boy the unethical scientist or the silly nonbiney war criminal

Conclusion: What the fuck is team fortress the second one about

#cassie rambles #please don't tell me what it's about it's so much funnier if i am confused forever #tf2 #emesis blue

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krakensdottir · 10 months

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Also something really important I want to point out about Aziraphale's religious trauma.

It's often framed as him being directly abused by Heaven, generally emotionally. And while I don't doubt he's been belittled at points - probably not by Gabriel, the iconic exemplar of the Toxic Positivity boss, but we know how Michael and Uriel etc. can be - it also seems like he's received quite a lot of praise and has generally managed to pull off the appearance of being A Good Angel, or at least a satisfactory one. I don't think, and this is controversial, but I don't think Heaven was usually overtly hard on him.

Because that's not how this kind of cult mentality usually operates. Instead, it teaches you to abuse yourself. Your overseers don't have to directly hurt or insult you if you're so ingrained with fear of failure by the culture you were brought up in that you constantly question yourself as not good enough.

It's not as... satisfying, I guess? As an external abuser being the main issue. But it's a lot more real. At least to me, because I suffered so much anxiety over being 'good' when I was a kid, and it wasn't from direct abuse. It was absorbed from the culture I was surrounded by. I picked it up by osmosis from society at large, and it tormented me. I worried, I doubted, there was a time I literally feared going to Hell. And I wasn't raised strongly religious. My mother certainly treated me as a Good Kid, and never gave even the suggestion that I wasn't. But I felt that way anyway. And it tore me apart. Because internalizing that shit makes it so much harder to fight.

And to be clear at this point, I am not saying Heaven isn't abusive. I just think the nature of its abuse is more subtle and insidious than it's often given credit for. And - this is even harder to accept, but it's true, and it's important - it's not just abusive to Az. All the angels are victims of it. Yes, even Gabriel. The moment he, one of the most powerful forces in Heaven, steps out of line, we see that no one is exempt. Never even mind Muriel, who is literally on the lowest rung of the Heavenly ladder and has probably never been told they're worth anything beyond being, you know, an angel, so at least you're better than humans and demons.

It's a contrast with Crowley, who has long since accepted most (not all, there are definitely some deep issues remaining, but they're nothing like Aziraphale's) of his internal doubts and struggles. His fears are almost entirely external. He doesn't beat himself up if he fucks up. He doesn't have to. There are people happy to beat him up for him. So when things go really bad for him, his instinct is to run. To get out of the way of harm as much as possible.

The fact that Aziraphale is harder on himself than anyone else could be is a vital part of his character. He self-punishes. He self-criticizes. He feels awful every time he breaks the rules in the slightest, even though he isn't usually caught at it. Crowley can find some safety in solitude if he keeps his wits sharp and his head down. Aziraphale can't, because he carries Heaven's conditioning with him at all times. He doesn't need oversight, it doesn't take external threats to keep him in line. You don't need direct threats when literally everyone in your celestial workplace has seen firsthand the consequences of rebellion.

I don't know if I'm making sense here. Again, this is informed by personal experience and I can't claim to be unbiased. But I see so much internalization with Aziraphale. He literally can't even accept praise without being nervous as hell, and I don't think it's fear of punishment or ridicule that's his primary motivation. He simply cannot ever be good enough for himself.

That's how they get you.

Anyway, I think it's why his reaction to disaster is the opposite to Crowley's, why he feels he has to turn and face it and somehow avert the horror (or, alternatively, find some way to reconcile it in his head and accept it - because let's be real, that's often what happens) rather than get himself away. He's less afraid of failing his superiors than he is of failing himself. And God, who is, objectively, the biggest abuser in the entire story.

#go s2 spoilers #good omens meta #aziraphale #this internalized stuff hurts so much #and it's SO much harder to shake than other forms of trauma #breaking free from heaven isn't just not easy - it's impossible until he finally accepts that HE isn't a failure for not fixing everything #and that's the part of him that crowley can't wrap his head around #tl;dr heaven's culture is abusive to all its angels and they manifest it in different ways #and aziraphale takes it harder than any other we've seen

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frociaggine · 2 months

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Anon with the friend who's reading tlt on the reverse order: Yes, he knows he's being a lab rat, he doesn't keep motes on the books because he's very much a casual reader (and thus perfect for the experiment) and so far we have only done Nona The Ninth and The Unwanted Guest, plus some chapters of HTN & Doctor Sex. There's the slight chance of osmosis corruption because I occasionally reblog modern au memes on my main blog, which I think is how he got Palamedes' whole deal.

There's not much he guessed, and even less he guessed correctly. He did call the fact Crown and Ianthe are related a pleasant plot twist, and he initially thought John was Varun.

The most interesting guess he had, which he arrived through flawed means, was Paul's existence, and the fact Pyrrha had some sort of connection to Gideon The Ninth — mostly because he guessed the average Lyctorhood to be Camilla and Palamedes', and with the reference of Gideon and G1deon as 1) permanently dead, in a setting where he's aware necromancy exists and he thought zombies to be actual resurrected people 2) connected to Pyrrha, and 3) the fact Pyrrha had "some weird vibes" (he refused to elaborate) led him to thinking Pyrrha was half Gideon, half someone else, and the reason Kiriona was vaguely off-putting to people was because she didn't have a full soul. Anyways he did think the same would happen to Palamedes and Camilla, which it did, and that Kiriona was pissed at Pyrrha because of an ambiguous degree of relationship

We have paused rn, as the labrat experiment is in return for me reading a webcomic per book

Oh yeah also im doing this because i either dreamt a post proposing it up or actually saw it, and honestly i wanted to see how much biases and previous narrative impacted the relationship of the reader with tlt characters, their relationships, and worldbuilding, as i absorbed tlt by osmosis as an agender aroace. so yeah giving a gay guy tlt without previous context in the reverse order to complete the trifecta (lesbian woman reading it in the correct order, aroace agender getting to know it by osmosis and figuring out the plot best I could before reading it, gay guy reading it in reverse)

ANON THANK YOU FOR COMING BACK! @mayasaura and everyone who wanted a follow-up to the first part.

"Thought John was Varun at first" is soooo big brained actually! I'm always thinking about John's more RB-like traits. I'm also very amused that he cast Pyrrha as the zombie puppeteer, I bet he's going to love tiny Harrow walking around her dead parent's bodies for a decade.

I also feel like the worldbuilding in NtN is veeery different from the general #vibe of the first two books — it feels like an "anime filler arc" kind of sidequest plot — and I'm very curious if going from NtN to HtN is going to make the settings vibe changes feel stronger or weaker than reading it normally would.

Anyway, I love that you decided to do this, and please let us know what he thinks about HtN! I hope you enjoy the webcomic :D

#Anonymous #ask #elle tlt posting

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moodymisty · 1 month

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This is just me doing a headcanon ramble. But one thing that I could see happening if you end up married to a primarch is that the space marines start copying you. Little gestures and mannerisms here and there. It’s not even on purpose, they don’t even seem to notice that they’re doing this unless somebody points it out. And I think the reasons for that are 1. You’re their mom now. and 2. The process of creating an astartes is at least 30% warp fuckery, so it wouldn’t be surprising to me if they absorbed some behaviours from you through warp based osmosis.

Now imagine this but it’s one of the legions that you headcanoned to dislike the reader. Picture in your head how a space marine has finally had enough of your presence in his family’s life, so he goes to the primarch and angrily starts explaining to him how he and his siblings can’t stand the sight of you and want you gone. But the primarch is trying his hardest to hold back laughter, because the marine’s body language and intonation of words is exactly how you sound when you’re angry. Like I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you buddy but you’re truly your mother’s son

This happens with Blood Angels for SURE.

Blame @bispecsual for this but she had the hc of older Blood Angels liking their Primarch’s beloved just fine and being quite loyal, but new ones who’ve only ever known a life with you there are vehemently more dedicated.

Like older ones might adopt a slang word you use or a tone of voice (you’ve accidentally given a few the habit of rolling their eyes), but newly ‘blooded’ Blood Angels are more overt in sharing your verbal lexicon and gestures.

They’ve still got that odd, emotionally stunted and stoic Astartes attitude, but it’s mixed with this weird adoption of low gothic swears and eye rolling. Sanguinus has caught some biting their lips during strategical meetings, a habit you’ve always done when nervous or focused.

The older Blood Angels have noticed it happening with the newer stock. Their Legion Mother or Mother Angel has already cemented herself into their lives so deeply.

As for the other scenario, that’s absolutely Raven Guard and Ultramarines. Guilliman sighs as one of his captains once again raises his concerns about you, only to speak with a similar inflection as you, and even uses the world cattywampus, a word presumably from your homeworld that he’s never heard, and he’s sure his legion hasn’t heard it either.

#Misty’s book club #ultramarines are so stiff and miserable like let your primarch fuck nasty he deserves some happiness

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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 2 months

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Some and now none of you —

Thinking about Regulus who goes through that younger sibling phase, you know, like, when they become a sponge? When they literally absorb everything through sheer osmosis, of whatever it is their older siblings do? Musical preferences, clothing choices, ticks, expressions, thoughts, philosophy, etc.

And i think, because he and Sirius grew up the way they did, and where they did, Regulus may have put Sirius on a pedestal (I think they both put each other on a pedestal. Like Sirius was always "supposed to be" the braver one and Regulus was always "supposed to be" the kinder one. They saw their own perceived weaknesses as strengths manifested in the other.) And like a little kid — both as a younger sibling and a child whose main source of affection is from his brother — Regulus' identity comes into being through Sirius.

And Sirius? Being treated like the parasite of his mother's ambitions, by his mother, whilst simultaneously groomed to take her place — he finds that Regulus is the first thing, first person that he was told was his. It's a heady thing, as he struggles to grapple with the combination of lingering insufficiency and the ego (as well as entitlement) that comes with being told you're meant to own the world. Regulus is fully his and not a half-debt to a parent.

He soaks up the admiration the same way Regulus absorbs bits and pieces of Sirius' identity to find his own.

At one point, they're swapping traits and ticks. Tricks and picks.

Clothes and bedrooms are shared. Spaces are occupied together.

And, well. It's so very sad to think about the dissonance when they start losing each other. Because it starts to feel like they're losing themselves. It's a bit more complicated for Sirius because to him, he saw it as giving pieces of himself to a kid, even though it's not true, or a rational description of two siblings simply sharing interests. To him, it's not.

Regulus has a haaaaaard time readjusting every time he and Sirius drift farther apart. He's torn. He grew up having identified with so much of his brother's existence and now has to find what it means when he no longer can't. How does he find himself, when he's lost so much of it?

And for Sirius I can imagine how he feels like he's walking with patches of himself missing. It feels like both brothers stole from each other.

Now Regulus is walking down the halls, wearing his scarves exactly like his brother does. And Sirius ends up not wanting to touch scarves for a long while, because he's used to putting one on Regulus first and then himself.

*wow, i can't seem to stop writing about the black brothers. here, have some more.

#regulus black #the black brothers #sirius black #marauders era #regulus headcanon #sirius headcanon #sirius and regulus #black brothers #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #padfoot #dead gay wizards #my writing

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cassiaratheslytherpuff · 1 month

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How about James and Sirius telling each other what they would reward the other with for every O they get in their n.e.w.t.s.? 👀 They always motivate each other to get even better at basically anything. Both with their competency kink hehe

Competency kink, my beloved! <3 Thanks for the prompt! (idk if it's still Friday everywhere, but where I'm at I made it in time)

“I’m so bored with these exams,” James said, forcing back a yawn and flopping back onto the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. “It’s not like we really need them for anything.”

Remus looked up from his book, and James could have sworn his eye twitched. “You’re bored?” he demanded, clutching his quill in a death grip.

James shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone’s busy studying and have a complete meltdown at even the hint of noise. So, I’m bored.”

Peter, who James had thought was fully asleep, but who had apparently just been trying to absorb the information in the book he’d been using as a pillow by osmosis, sat up. “You could always study like the rest of us?”

James shrugged. He didn’t really need to. He knew everything well enough, and he could never make his brain focus on revising something when he already mostly knew it.

Sirius snorted, clearly seeing James’s thoughts without him having to say anything. “The day Prongs starts revising of his own free will is the day I start wishing I was sorted Slytherin.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I can’t help but notice you’re not revising either.”

“Can’t be arsed,” Sirius said, offering an easy shrug.

“You couldn’t be arsed to come flying either,” James said. “So really it’s all your fault I’m bored.”

Remus slammed his book shut and James jumped. “If you’re not going to study, will you please shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I can’t study, I’m too bored,” James insisted.

“Make it interesting then,” Peter offered. He still had a crease on his cheek from the book he’d been sleeping on, and he was starting to look a little frayed around the edges. “You and Sirius can have a contest. Whoever gets more O’s wins something.”

Sirius sat up straighter. “Oh, I like that. What should we win?”

James studied him, feeling his interest rise. The thing was, he wasn’t bothered about his own NEWTS, but the thought of Sirius using that brilliant mind to outshine literally everyone simply because he could was an attractive one.

“If you get all O’s I’ll do that thing,” James offered. “You know, the one we talked about last week?” He shot Sirius a satisfied smirk when his eyes widened.

“The, er,” Sirius looked around the room, “the thing thing?”

He looked at James’s chest and James nodded.

Sirius grinned. “Oh, I’m getting all O’s.”

“And if I do?” James asked.

Sirius stood and walked over to James. He leaned down, and breathed so quietly into James’s ear that he almost missed what he was saying.

“If you get all O’s I’ll tie you to our bed and eat you out until you’re coming untouched.”

“Oh,” James said, feeling a thrill of arousal at the promise. “Yeah, I’m getting all O’s too.”

Remus groaned. “I’m glad you’ve found motivation to academically crush us all, but if you’re going to be studying now will one of you please explain to me exactly why you can’t vanish animals or insects, but plants are fine? They’re all living organisms, right?”

Sirius shrugged and jumped into an explanation, and James realised he’d made a terrible mistake because he wanted his reward so now, he actually had to study. But listening to Sirius easily explaining advanced Charms made him want nothing more than to pull him upstairs so he could listen to Sirius saying that exact same thing while breathless and moaning.

#hot prongsfoot friday #prongsfoot #james x sirius #cassiwrites #ask #prongsfoot fanfic #cassifics

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unpretty · 1 year

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do you have a link to a good empanada recipe?

here is the empanada recipe i looked up because one time after helping her make empanadas nana was like 'now you know how to make them yourself next time' and i realized she expected me to be able to retain any of that even though she hadn't given measurements and i hadn't taken notes, and when i tried asking dad he was like 'you've made empanadas before? you know how to make them, you're a good cook' and i decided it would be easier to just print a recipe off about dot com (now the spruce) than try to explain to my dad that i do not passively absorb recipes through osmosis

this recipe made me realize that empanada dough is supposed to be pastry dough and the fact that empanada day involved hours and hours of everyone in the family standing around a table kneading dough was insane actually. it's pastry. imagine kneading pie crust. the only explanation i can come up with is that nana didn't have a fridge and her version didn't need to be chilled. however i'm not making dough like that ever again in my life. the first time i made these for my dad he was like, "see? i knew you'd get it. you're like a master at this now. you even found a way to make the dough come together without having to knead it all day." and i didn't have the heart to tell him that the recipe i was using was from about dot com.

my notes on the recipe are that it calls for too much onion. three onions? for one pound of meat? that's too much onion. only my grandpa tries to put that much onion in and nana doesn't let him because that's nuts. i like making a batch of caramelized onions in the slow cooker or instant pot, or using onion powder, because even setting aside my textural issues i am not actually supposed to eat onion and those kinds of onion make me suffer less for my sins. if you are capable of eating that much onion without going straight to hell then follow your heart. also add as much garlic as feels right but that goes without saying because it's garlic.

if you grew up in a hamburger helper household you may be tempted to try draining the fat from the beef. do not do this. you need that fat. empanadas are not a health food.

the recipe calls for regular raisins, which is incorrect. they need to be golden raisins.

growing up we made the beef mixture and then the sliced black olives, golden raisins, and hardboiled egg got added at the end. however i started mixing in the olives and raisins like that recipe said and i do think that turns out more consistent. however if you have people who want different ratios of beef to olive to raisin, doing it nana's way means everyone can mark the ones they made for themselves.

we always pressed the edges of the empanada together with a fork and then poked holes in it with the same fork. it didn't matter if they weren't super consistent because they were going to be deep fried. however i hate hot oil so i bake mine and i bought a set of 6 inch plastic empanada presses

they make everything much easier and more consistent

if you want to be extra then instead of poking holes with a fork, you can use a flower-shaped vegetable cutter to cut a flower out of the assembled empanada, then press it back on at a slight angle using a straw and glue it in place with the egg wash.

nana also put powdered sugar on her empanadas when they were done but i feel like that makes more sense when they're fried, so i don't

#original #foodblogging

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stilesmieczyslaw · 1 year

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Memories of you

Synopsis: After an accident, you forget the love of your life Peter. Thankfully Spiderman talks some sense into you. Pairings: Fem Reader x Spiderman Warnings: Angst, a small bit of fluff. Mentions of guns, violence and blood. Three cuss words (Although two of them are the same word) AN: I love Spiderman. I wrote this with Andrew!Peter in mind and I mention the skateboard but I guess if you ignore that part it could be for any Peter. This is also my first Spiderman fic Words: 7.5K Now "Peter Parker, I swear if you don't get to this restaurant in the next ten minutes I'm going to kill you." You laughed down the phone. You were sat in a fancy restaurant at a table for two. The waiters had come past many times trying to take your order. "Come on Y/N, you know what it's like. Crime never sleeps!" He argued back. You could tell by the sound of his voice that he was swinging. "You'll be sleeping on the couch at this rate." You jokingly threatened. Both of you knew you didn't really mean it.

"Y/N!" He gasped with mockery. "How could you? It's our wedding anniversary and you're threatening me with the couch?" "You've got 8 minutes now or it's the couch." You hung up the phone with a smile on your face.

Yes, you were married to the masked superhero spiderman. You could barely believe it at first. You had bumped into Peter Parker at college. Your parents wanted you to take a law degree but you had dabbled in science instead. Now you taught at one of the local schools passing on that passion that you had.

But, you had to get there first and at college, science wasn't your strongest suit. You were good at it at school but now at degree level... Not so much.

A few years ago You had been looking blankly at the sheet of paper in front of you when someone pulled you out of your thoughts. "Are you okay?" This man had asked you. You looked up at him and were almost flawed by his presence. He had a concerned but cheeky smile on his face. You blinked at him a few times. Not giving an answer. Maybe you were stunned by his beauty because you had been looking at the stupid sheet in front of you, or maybe he was really attractive. Both, it was probably both.

"Are you... Okay?" He prompted again, now slightly more worried than he had been before. You realized you had been staring at him. "Oh! Yeah. I'm... great." You grimaced. "Just hoping the knowledge will flow into my brain via osmosis." "Diffusion." He put his bag down on a seat. "Do you mind if I sit?" He pointed to the seat opposite you. "Huh?" Was all you could manage in response. You probably were crazy. You were going to scare him off. He sat down with a laugh

"Osmosis," He explained, "Is only for water. If it's anything else, it's diffusion. So for example, plant roots absorbing water from the soil is Osmosis. An example of diffusion is the flavoring of tea coming out of a tea leaf. So for the knowledge to leave the page and enter your head, would be diffusion." "Right." You nodded at the stranger in front of you. "Well... I'm hoping the knowledge will hurry up and diffuse because I've got an exam coming up and I don't understand. No, that's the wrong word. I do understand its just..." You motioned with your hands. "I can't... Diffuse the information back out. I know the answer but I can't explain the answer. Does that make sense?"

The stranger closed one eye. Almost in thought himself. "In a very odd way, yes. Yes it does." "I am so sorry. I'm Y/N." You stretched your arm out for him to shake. He took it with a smile. "I'm Peter. We have some classes together." "We do? I promise I'm not usually this airheaded. I'm just burnt out I think." He only smiled at this.

Peter enjoyed watching people. That was his thing. He was a people watcher. He took photos at school. Both for the school and for himself. He was always seen with his camera. In a way, it was how he got to know people. From a distance and then he introduced himself. Some people thought it was creepy. He didn't mean it to be in the slightest. But it was his way of getting to know people.

He had spotted you one day in class. You were so absorbed in the teacher. You were listening to every word they said, unlike most of the people in the class - admittingly that included him. Other people were doodling, texting, and watching videos. You were giving all of your attention to the teacher. You were paying so much attention you forgot to write your notes. He enjoyed watching you a lot. So when today, you looked frustrated he wanted to help you.

"How about," He raised an eyebrow at you. "We go grab some coffee and we can go over the textbook together with a fresh pair of eyes. We could be study buddies. I have the same exam coming up that you do." "Peter, I think you are on to something." You nodded.

Your study sessions together evolved. They started at a coffee shop, moved to the library which then moved into the dorms. "Come on." Peter nudged you, "Explain it to me again." You were both laid on the floor surrounded by notes. You found that explaining it to Peter was easier than trying to reason with it in your own head. You began to explain it to him when you noticed that he wasn't listening to you. He was just staring at you with a goofy smile on his face. You internally laughed before trying something out.

"And then, when you add Oxygen to the equation right... I kiss Peter for being such a great help to me these past few weeks and then he's amazed by my kissing skills so immediately asks me to be his girlfriend then we get married and have ten children. Does that sound right to you?" "Yeah." He nods. You began to laugh hysterically as he looked at you confused. It took him a few moments to realize what you had said.

He began to look at you with a serious look. It stopped you from laughing and you began to blush. The look was so intimate. Almost like he was looking into your soul. He leaned forward and kissed you softly. So soft it was almost like he wasn't touching you at all but at the same time it was so intense. You rolled over onto your back, pulling him with you. The kiss became rougher. Your notes were forgotten.

You began dating, you aced all of your exams and Peter helped to get you into the teaching life. He had said you explaining everything to him had helped him learn too. As things became more serious and you spent more time together you began to notice things. He would arrive to dates slightly out of breath. He would end dates suddenly promising to make it up to you. When you lay in bed together you noticed faint bruises on his torso. After a year of it you began to question things.

"Peter." You said seriously. "Y/N." He replied trying to use the same tone you had. "Why are you covered in bruises?" You asked. He looked at you perplexed. He shook his head. "I always fall off my skateboard. You know me." He shrugged with a smile. You weren't convinced. "Peter. I do know you, and I know when you are lying. Please, Peter. I love you." You gasped realizing what you just said. You'd not said it before. This was the first time.

Peter's eyes became soft and he stepped closer to you placing his hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks with his fingers. "You love me?" He asked. It was almost a silent whisper. If you weren't as close as you had been then you wouldn't have heard him. Not at all. You nodded.

"Of course I do Peter. How could I not? I love you so much, but when you lie to me... It hurts Peter. I understand if you don't feel the same way." You began to pull back from him when he held onto your hand. Willing you to stay. "No, no, no, please Y/N. I love you too. I feel the same. When I look at you I feel like my heart might burst." His hands were shaking. To be honest so were yours.

"Then why are you lying to me? Is it something bad? We can work it out together." He looked lost for a moment. Lost in his own head. Contemplating. He didn't want to put you in danger. Everyone who ever knew ended up hurt, he didn't want you hurt. But also he didn't want to lose you.

"I'm gonna tell you. I'm gonna tell you. Just, don't hate me." "I don't think that's possible Peter." You affirmed. He took a deep breath and shook his hands. "I'm... I'm spiderman." He looked at you. You looked at him. You were silent for a few seconds before laughing.

"Peter I'm being serious. I'm really concerned and you're saying stuff like that! Come on, please." "I am being serious." He didn't join in your laughter. He took one of your hands in his, and with his other he stretched it out and webs shot out of it.

"Woah!" You exclaimed. You looked at where the webs landed then down at his wrist. You ran your hands over his sleeve to reveal a little wrist contraption. "How have I not noticed that before?" You pondered more to yourself but it still got a chuckle out of him.

"I don't wear it all the time. And I've been doing this for years now. I'm good at hiding it." You were still running your hands over his wrist trying to figure it out. "What are you thinking?" He nudged his nose against yours given your close proximity.

"You're spiderman." You said in awe. "I am." "I'm dating spiderman." "You are."

Now

And now you were sat in a restaurant waiting to celebrate your wedding anniversary. You had accepted long ago you had to share your husband with the people of New York. It wasn't always easy but Peter always made it up to you. You felt loved and cared for which is all you could ever ask.

"EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR!" A group of men came in shouting. Everyone looked startled. They had guns. "WE SAID ON THE FLOOR!" You all quickly got to the floor. A kid who was sitting with his mom at the next table began to wail in fright.

"It's okay Josh." His mom cooed. "SHUT THAT KID UP!" One of the men shouted walking towards the child and therefore you. The mother began to wail too. Frightened for her child and her own life. "Hey you'll be okay." You smiled at the boy. Fighting your own tears.

"Is this boy yours?" The gunned man asked kneeling down. You couldn't see his face for the mask but you knew he was annoyed. "No but..." You started. You were smacked in the temple with the hilt of the gun. There was a horrible noise and the world went strange. You could feel the blood coming out of the open wound.

"Mom look! Spiderman!" You heard the child exclaim. "Spiderman?" The gunned man questioned. "How'd he get here so fast?" Of course. He was already on his way here to meet you. He must have seen the commotion. "You're in trouble." You remarked. You don't know what happened after that. Other than the feeling of being hit again in the same spot as before

The next thing you were aware of was beeping. A constant beeping. What was that? Everything was dark but that beeping was shrill. How could you stop it? You realized your eyes were shut. Was the beeping your alarm? Last you knew your alarm was some cheesy pop song, although you couldn't place which one. You opened your eyes slowly. You were met by a harsh light. You winced and held your hand to your face. That's when you noticed a wire, your eyes followed it to see that you were hooked up to machines and other equipment. You began to panic. What happened? There was a guy sleeping in a chair next to your bed. You considered waking him up but a nurse came into the room instead.

"Y/N. You're awake. How are you?" The nurse put her hand on your shoulder in an attempt to soothe you. It didn't help. "Where am I?" In the commotion, the guy in the chair woke up. "Y/N!" He shouted with glee. You winced at his loudness. He leaned forward to kiss you gently but the nurse held up her hand to stop him.

"I still need to check her over before you get your hands on her." There was a playful tone in her warning. "Excuse me sorry." You interrupted with a forced smile. "Where am I!?" "You're in the hospital. There was an accident. An armed robbery, you helped protect a child and you got hurt. But thankfully spiderman was there to save you." She had a smile on her face.

"Spider who?" You were too focused on the nurse to notice Peter tense up. "Spiderman, New York's very own superhero. He saved you. You lucky thing." "I have no idea what you're talking about," You blankly replied. It was the nurse's turn to go stiff. "Y/N, what year is it?" You thought for a moment. "I don't know." You whispered. "I don't know. Why don't I know?" The nurse rubbed your shoulder "I'll go fetch a doctor. They will be happy to know you're awake." And she quickly left the room.

There was a strange silence. The guy who had been sleeping on the chair was looking at you. You cleared your throat. "Were you involved too? In the robbery?" He shook his head. Not sure what to say. If you didn't know who spiderman was... did you know who he was? When you met, Spiderman had been around for a few years. "Oh." Was all you said. Why was he here? If he wasn't involved then why? Was he a doctor? No, he wasn't in scrubs and the nurse wouldn't have had to fetch a doctor if he was already here.

The door opened and some old balding man came in wearing scrubs. "Mrs Parker, I'm glad to see you're awake." You didn't say anything. You looked around the room to see if anyone else was in the room. No, it was just you and this guy. "I'm sorry. I think you looked at the wrong file. I'm not Mrs. Parker. I'm Y/N Y/L/N." "Y/N." The doctor said in a soothing voice. The same one the nurse had used. "I'm afraid that there's been some damage to your brain. You don't know the date do you?" "No. I don't." You agreed. Then you paused. You didn't know what your phone ring tone was, you didn't know the date, you didn't know the guy standing next to your bed... the doctor called you Mrs. Parker...

You looked at the guy's hand. He had a wedding ring on. You were almost too frightened to look at your own hand, but you had to. Your eyes wandered down and there it was. A wedding ring. Right there on your finger. You hadn't noticed it before and now you couldn't help but notice it. Suddenly it became too tight. It was going to cut the circulation off your finger. You tried to get it off but it wouldn't budge. You were beginning to hurt yourself.

"Y/N!" The guy called out. There was something in his voice that helped calm you. He took your hand and took the ring off it for you with ease. You looked down at the little indent in your finger. You must have been wearing it for a while. You were too busy looking at your now bare hand to notice Peter was crying. He held tightly onto the ring. When he put it on you years ago, he never thought he would help you take it off.

"Y/N." The doctor said slowly. You looked up at him but you still were rubbing your finger. "I'll need to run some more tests but it seems you do have some memory loss. Hopefully, these tests can figure out how much damage has been done." "Will she... er... Get them back." The guy asked. He rubbed his nose and coughed to hide the fact that he was crying. "It's hard to say." The doctor answered honestly. "With this, she could get them back by tonight or not at all. I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I'll be back in a few minutes. If you need anything don't hesitate to ring the call button." He gave a quick smile before he was off.

There was silence in the room. Well, except for the sniffing coming from the guy. It wasn't in your nature to let people suffer. You just couldn't. "I feel horrible for asking this. But what is your name?" You finally asked. He looked up at you. His eyes were bloodshot. "Peter, Peter Parker." Instinctively you held your arm out for him to shake. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N." He looked at your hand for a moment. Memories going through his mind. But not yours. He shook it slowly. "But I guess I'm Y/N Parker. You're my husband?" He nodded.

"That's crazy." You said more to yourself. "I woke up married. It's like that show, married at first sight." You laughed but he did not. "Sorry." You apologized. "How long have we been married?" "3 years yesterday." He answered. He was still not looking at you directly. He was looking at the hospital bed. "3 years yesterday... Am I ugly?" That caused him to look at you. "What?" "You won't look at me. Did I grow up to be ugly?"

He sat down on the chair next to your bed again and took your hand in his. It felt odd to you. The way he was holding on for dear life but you felt strange. "Y/N. You are not ugly. It's just... You don't know who I am and it's breaking my heart. It's also breaking my heart to see what that man did to you. I should have been there. With you. It's my fault." "Well... I can't say much about you because, well I can't. I just met you. But unless you were the guy with the gun. You didn't do this to me." You soothed. "Although I want to see what my face looks like. Is there a mirror or..." He passed you a phone. It had no buttons. How would you get the home screen up? As you lifted the phone it lit up by itself and unlocked.

You easily got the camera open and looked at yourself. To say you had a black eye would be an understatement. It was so dark and it covered most of the left side of your face. You were almost convinced you could see the shape of the handle. "Now that's what I call a shiner." You gasped. Peter stood up suddenly. "It's not funny Y/N!" Normally he would love your humor and sarcastic jokes but right now he couldn't take it. How could you joke in a moment like this? "I'm sorry." You put the phone down. You felt like your dad was scolding you for staying out too late with your friends. "No. Don't be sorry." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted."

The doctor came back in to do your tests.

A week had passed since then. The doctor was satisfied with your health, minus the memory loss. He did hope your memory would return and he did give you some exercises to try and help you. He also gave you his number and office hours if you needed anything. Right now you were in the back of a taxi going to an apartment that Peter called home. From your point of view was just an apartment. Peter paid the taxi driver and you both got out. The apartment wasn't a grand one. It was okay. You wondered what you had thought of it before the accident. Peter noticed your face.

"This is the best we can do on our wages." He was almost embarrassed. "What do we do?" "I'm a photographer for the daily bugle and you're a middle school teacher." "I'm a what? I'm not a lawyer?" He almost chuckled at your response. "No. You hate law." "I hate law?" He nodded at you before leading you into the apartment block. You walked up a few flights of stairs before he lead you to a door. He opened it and let you go first.

On the walls were photos of you and Peter. Some looked older, some looked newer. How long had Peter been in your life? You had been married for 3 years but how long before that had you dated? You stopped at a photo of you both drinking from the same milkshake with giant straws. neither of you were looking at the camera. Just smiling at each other. You smiled at it. You looked very happy in that photo. Peter stood behind you.

"The lady who took that photo worked at the diner. I've known her forever. She saw how happy we looked and she snuck the photo while we didn't notice." "We look so happy. I think this might be my favorite of all the photos here." Peter made a noise with his nose. "That photo was always your favorite." "Nice to see my head, even empty, still has taste." There you were again. Making jokes like this didn't matter. The air became stiff. You coughed and moved on.

The rest of the apartment looked well-loved. There were dishes in the sink. Clothes waiting to be washed. A collection of books and DVDs. "Can I have a nap? I'm exhausted." "Yeah. That's not a problem. I'll make dinner." Peter wandered towards the kitchen while you stood still. "Peter." You got his attention. He looked up at you with loving eyes. Despite not knowing this man at all you couldn't help but melt at the way he looked at you. Yes, it was odd but you had accepted that. But it was also sweet. "I don't know where the bedroom is."

"Of course! It's just... Wait. Wait right there one moment." He ran off in front of you and disappeared into a room. He had to hide his Spiderman suits. While he trusted you more than anything and anyone in the world. You currently had no memory. He didn't know what you were like before you met. What if you saw the suits and suddenly the secret was out? He hid them under the floorboards, the place he normally put them when you had guests. He came rushing back out and called you over.

"Did you have to hide your mistress?" You asked. Normally he would run with the joke. Tell you he had at least one mistress for each day of the week, but he didn't. He was worried that you wouldn't run with the joke. What if you thought he really did have a mistress? "I'm joking Peter." You reassured. He only nodded. You hated it. Could you not make jokes anymore? Was your life before the accident void of all jokes? You huffed and brushed past him. You closed the door behind you leaving him on the other side. This was going to take a while.

Later that night you both ate in silence. Nothing could be heard except the sounds of cutlery hitting off plates. You wanted to compliment him on his cooking. This was delicious. But the air was so thick. You hoped your first date with him wasn't this awkward. As soon as dinner had finished you excused yourself back to your room. Part of you hoped Peter would follow you. You didn't want to sleep with him in the way a married couple would. But the thought of sleeping alone was upsetting. You didn't know why. To you all nights so far except the odd sleepover, you had slept alone. So why tonight did it feel so strange?

Peter was on the other side of the door having a similar crisis to you. He wanted nothing more than to lie in your bed together and hold you in his arms. Since you woke up a week ago he hardly interacted with you. He was always in the corner watching you, willing for you to remember. He almost felt selfish. He wanted you to get your memories back for your own sake of course, but he just wanted you to smile at him like you used to. Now if you even glance at him, it's the smile you would give a stranger in passing.

Peter raised his hand to knock but decided against it. He shook his head and made his way to the couch. "You'll be sleeping on the couch at this rate...You've got 8 minutes now or it's the couch." Your words that night swam around in his head. You were joking, you couldn't see the future. But you were right. He had been too long, it had taken him too long to get to you and you almost died and now here he was. On the couch. Why did he put spiderman first? One night a year is your anniversary, he could have stopped for one night. Well... He hadn't left your side at the hospital. Spiderman had been missing for a week. You needed him. Everything else would have to wait.

You sat on the bed, your phone in your hand. Your lock screen was a selfie of you and Peter. Proof that he was someone important in your life. You flicked through the gallery on your phone and there was an entire life you didn't know on there. Photos of study notes, photos of Peter asleep on top of study notes, coffee dates, graduation, your engagement... Your wedding... You quickly closed the app getting overwhelmed but, you didn't lock the screen. You opened up the browser and looked up 'Spiderman'. This person had saved your life and apparently, they were a big deal. You should see what the fuss was about.

'Spiderman still missing.' 'Spiderman's absence is felt amongst everyone' 'Webhead Spiderman officially retired?' These were all headlines that popped up. You didn't click on any of them. Instead, you pressed videos and watched them closely. This guy was impressive! You could see why so many people admired him. The more videos you watched the more enamored you became with him. He had saved your life. How could you ever thank him? You locked your phone and settled off to sleep. All while Peter stayed wide awake on the couch.

-----

More days passed and your memory still had not returned. The photos on the wall began to haunt you. They were looking at you. Judging you for not remembering. You hated them. All of these memories. You were beginning to wonder if they were ever your memories to begin with. "How about we look at the photos on your phone?" Peter suggested. "See if any of them bring anything back." "How about no." You bit back. "I can't look at any more photos. They are bad enough!" You motioned to the photos on the wall. "Y/N. The Doctor said you needed..." "I don't give a damn what the doctor said! I want to go home!" "You are home." He pleaded with you. "No I'm not! I want to go home, to my parents and look at my one direction poster and hug my plushies and I want to talk to my friends. None of them who have contacted me by the way. Why don't I have any friends Peter? What did my life become? Whatever it is maybe it isn't worth remembering!"

"Y/N I'm trying my best here!" He got sucked into the argument. "I've done exactly as the doctor has asked of me. Don't rush things. I've slept on the couch. I told your friends not to bombard you with messages because it might confuse you. I've tried and tried to help you with your memories but you keep pushing me away." "Because I don't know you!" You shouted. "I don't know you! You're just some man who I woke up one day and boom! You're my husband. How is that not confusing? You being here is confusing." You grabbed your coat and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter tried to get in your way. "For a walk. Why? Am I under house arrest now? Am I grounded?" "Let me go with you. You don't know where you are." "That might be true but let me tell you. Sitting in this apartment with you is no different." You slammed the door behind you.

The air was cold but thankfully your coat was warm. You walked and walked. Not really having a destination in mind. You just needed some air and to get away from those photographs. You didn't realize how dark it had gotten. You sat on a bench and pouted. You knew you were being too harsh on Peter. It wasn't his fault. The way he looked at you. He really loved you and it pained both of you that you didn't look at him the same way. How could you forget someone who loved you that much?

You wanted to remember for him. He looked at you with so much love and it hurt. Both of you hurt. You felt selfish and rude for not giving him what he wanted but how could you give it to him when you hardly know him? Walking out as you did probably wouldn't have helped the situation at all. Now it was probably even more awkward.

There was a loud thud next to you pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up and saw a man in a suit. "Spiderman?" You asked. "You know who I am?" He sounded shocked. "Yeah. You saved my life two weeks or so ago. I looked you up and apparently, you're a big deal. So thank you for saving my life." "Its no problem miss..." "Y/N. I'd tell you my last name but I don't know really what it is." "You don't know what your last name is?" He sat down next to you. "You don't need to bother with me." You waved off. "I'm sure there is a little old lady with a cat stuck up a tree. I'm nobody important." "You just told me you didn't know your last name. I feel like that is important."

"When you saved me apparently I got memory loss and I've lived an entire life that I don't remember." "Oh I know you." Spiderman gasped. "You were in that restaurant. You tried to help a kid. Can I have a look?" He motioned to his own head where your damage was. You nodded and leaned closer to him. Peter's hands began to tremble. You hadn't let him this close in days. He could feel the warmth of your skin. The bruises were already going down. That was good. How he wished he could touch your face with his bare hands and not through his suit. He missed you.

"I've got a husband Mr Spiderman." You joked. Peter coughed and moved slightly away when he realized he had been caressing your face. You yourself even began to blush slightly. "Tell me about him. Your husband." Spiderman requested. You laughed again. "Why? Are you going to beat him up? That was some serious face stroking there." Peter laughed. It was the first time in a while. "No. I was just admiring the fact that you went through all of this to help a child. And they call me a hero." "I'm sure you've saved plenty of children." "But I have superpowers and you don't." He pointed out.

The night was getting even darker somehow. "So tell me. About your husband." "I don't really know him but I'll try my best. I mean I can't remember him, not that I don't know him. Well... I don't know him..." "Y/N. I understand." Spiderman interrupted. You let out a breath of relief. "His name is Peter, he's got brown hair and brown eyes. He sometimes wears glasses and sometimes he doesn't. I haven't quite figured out what occasion calls for glasses and what doesn't but I'm determined to find out." You couldn't see obviously but Peter was smiling at that observation.

"He's about... Your height I guess. He's really nice to me and patient, even though other people wouldn't be if they were in his shoes. I can tell he's upset but he doesn't say anything. Sometimes when he thinks I'm not there he cries. I know he's not sleeping. He's too upset. But he's not mad. Well, except for tonight but that was my fault, it all got too much and I took it out on him because he was there. He's been nothing but a saint and I've been nothing but a bitch. He loves me, I wish I could love him back. He's the nicest guy I've met... No offense Spiderman." "None taken." Spiderman joked in return. It was making him well up, everything you were saying. "He's also really handsome. He has the prettiest smile. As I said his eyes are brown but they are so soft and the way he looks at me makes me feel fuzzy inside..."

Spiderman gave a mock gasp. "Do you have a crush on your husband?" You blushed even more at the question. "Don't make it sound weird!" You nudged him. "I married him, I must have a crush on him!" "Even with your memories gone?" "I said my memories were gone. Not my eyes." You paused. "I... I think... I think I need to be nicer to him. He's doing all of this for me and I'm just throwing it back in his face. I'm focused on myself when I'm not thinking about what it must be like for him. But at the same time, I woke up one day with a husband who I don't even know. It's so confusing."

"Do you want to know my opinion Y/N?" Spiderman asked. You gave a sigh but nodded, fearing what he had to say. "Maybe, both you and your husband... Obviously, work on trying to get your memories back. But instead of just focusing on your old memories, make some new ones. Go on your second first date with him. Clearly, you like him." He chuckled. "Stop making it weird Spiderman." You warned again with a smile. "All I'm saying is both of you are focused on the past. While it will be great for you to get that back. Focus on the future. Fall in love with him again. He misses your smile, more than you know." He trailed off. "How would you know that?" You questioned looking at him oddly. "I. Er... From the way you describe him. You said he looks at you in a certain way, I'm a guy I know how people look... and what they are thinking, and if my wife lost her memories I'd be wanting anything to get her like her old self... Not that I have a wife, you know saving New York and all..." He was now the one babbling. "Okay, Spiderman. I'll take your word for it. But, speaking of. Apparently, you've been missing for two weeks. The people of New York need you." "Someone else needed me more." He said softly. There was something in his voice you couldn't place. "I need to go Y/N, you okay now?" "I'm great Spiderman, thank you for your advice. You've given me something to think about." "Anytime Y/N." And he swung off just as fast as he arrived.

His absence was immediately felt. It was dark and it was cold. You looked around trying to find your bearings but you didn't know where you were and you couldn't put your address into your phone because you didn't know your address. Peter had warned you about this but you didn't listen. You knew your parent's address but they lived too far away to walk and you didn't bring any money with you to get the tube or a taxi. You began to feel nervous.

You looked down at your phone. You have to do it. You had to. Would he hate you after you stormed out? There was only one way to find out. The phone rang maybe once before it answered. "Y/N? Where are you?" He sounded worried. "I don't know where I am." You admitted in a small whisper. "No that's okay, our phones are linked. I can find out your location through that." He paused for a couple of seconds. "Right you're not that far from where I am. I'll be there in a couple of minutes." "You're out too?" "Yeah. Of course Y/N. I was worried about you and I came looking for you." "I'm sorry." "Don't be. You've done nothing wrong." "I've been an absolute bitch." You gave a small laugh. "Don't worry about it." "You're supposed to say, no you haven't Y/N, you've been an absolute Angel Y/N" You laughed. You heard him laugh too. It was a nice laugh. You wanted to hear it more.

"I can see you now." You heard him say. You looked around and saw him walking towards you. You couldn't help but grin at him. You heard him give a small gasp on the phone. You felt yourself get flustered. You weren't supposed to hear that. But he hadn't seen you smile that much to see him in two weeks. It was almost like you hadn't forgotten him.

"I'm sorry." You apologized to him again once he was closer. You both shoved your phones into your pockets. "It's okay Y/N, really it's okay." "I want to apologize also for..." "Let's get home first, out of this cold." He motioned with his head which direction to go. Now he mentioned it, it was very cold. Without thinking you wrapped yourself around one of his arms, resting your head on his shoulder, huddling him closer. He smelt nice, and he was warm.

Your eyes widened when you realized what you had done. You went to pull away and Peter whispered, "Don't," he sounded both sad and happy at the same time. How was that possible? But you stayed, hugging his side. You had one arm wrapped around his arm while the other was holding his hand. You couldn't be closer to him if you tried but it felt right. Natural, like you were always supposed to be here. Peter couldn't help the huge grin on his face. While this was only a small respite from reality it was greatly welcomed.

You suddenly pulled away with a strange face. He almost whined at the loss of contact. He saw your face. "What is it Y/N?" "Can you smell that? Something smells like it's on fire." Peter raised his nose and he could smell it now that you mentioned it. He suddenly went into Spiderman mode. Something was on fire. What if someone was hurt? He rushed off in the direction of the fire without thinking. If something happened like this while you had your memories, when you knew he was spiderman, you would drop him a text telling him to meet you when he was done. But you didn't know. You ran off following him but you lost him.

But you didn't lose the fire. You saw it. A house. You saw a family crying outside. A child had been left inside by accident. You looked around the crowd trying to see Peter but you couldn't. Where was he? You pulled out your phone and rang him, no answer. You tried again but to no avail. Suddenly Spiderman came rushing out of the house with a limp and handed the child over to the parents. The whole crowd gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir." The father said. "With the news, I was worried you wouldn't come. Thank you, Sir, thank you."

Spiderman patted the man on the shoulder and swung off, much as he had done earlier. But you noticed something nobody else did. Everyone was so happy the child was safe that they didn't notice the limp. They didn't notice the blood running down Spiderman's leg. You followed in the direction Spiderman went. You found him a couple of alleys away. A lot easier to find than Peter. You hoped he would ring you back soon.

"Spiderman?" You called out. He jumped suddenly at the presence of another human but relaxed when he saw it was you. "Y/N, you shouldn't be here. It's not safe." "But you're hurt." You ignored him getting closer. You heard him grunt in pain. "Y/N. Go." He ordered. "Firstly, I don't know where I am, secondly, my husband wandered off, thirdly you're bleeding, so no." You argued. You got closer to him. He was starting to bleed on the floor. You could see a piece of wood sticking out of his leg.

"Let me help you." You said softly. "I said go Y/N!" He said loudly. "And I said no Peter!" You said just as loudly. Both of you paused for a second. Peter. Spiderman. Peter. Spiderman. He looked at you and you looked at him. "What did you say?" He whispered. "I said... No... Peter." You gulped, tears forming in your eyes. You slowly lifted his mask. He didn't stop you. There he was. Your husband. With the eyes you loved so much. You had spent hours of your life looking into those eyes.

"Peter." You raised your hand to touch his face. He leaned into your touch. "How could I forget my Peter?" Both of you were crying. "You remember me?" He asked out of disbelief. You nodded getting even closer to him. You couldn't stop looking at his face. You had been looking at him for two weeks but you hadn't seen him until now. He wanted to kiss you. He really did.

"Oh my gosh you're bleeding." You remembered. You looked down at his leg. "I don't care." He brushed off getting you to look at him again by gently putting his hand on your face. "I care..." You started but he kissed you. It felt so right to be kissing him. It felt even more right than when you wrapped your arm around him earlier. Your tears mixed together on your faces. You pulled back for air, breathless. "We need to get you home." "Home?" "Home."

And there you were. It was hard getting back to your apartment with a limping and bleeding Spiderman without being seen but you did it. You knew exactly where it was. You opened the door and lead him in but not without looking at the photographs you loved so much on the wall. You lead Peter to the couch where you began to help him take off his suit so you could look at his leg better. "Y/N, I'm a married man." He laughed about what you said earlier. You shook your head and continued to take his suit off. He began to laugh. You looked at him. "What?" "You have a crush on me." He almost giggled. You rolled your eyes. "I said don't make it weird." You felt yourself beginning to blush. "Even with no memories, you still have eyes and you have a crush on me." "Peter." You whined.

He sat forward and took your face into his hands again. "You are adorable." He wiggled his nose against yours. He could feel the heat in your cheeks. "And don't worry. I have a crush on you too. Memories or not." "I've been so horrible these past few weeks." You said, not looking at him. "Hey." He got you to look at him. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. "But..." "No But. I love you and nothing you do, or what happens to you, will change that. I meant what I said earlier. If you never got your memories back I would happily make more with you. Take you on that second first date."

You smiled at him with tears in your eyes. "Can I have my ring back? I'm quite ready to be Mrs Parker again." He reached down into the pocket of the suit where he usually kept his phone and pulled your ring out. "You kept it on you?" "Yeah. The doctor said your memories could pop back at any moment, which they did. I had to be prepared." He lifted your hand and placed your ring back where it belonged. "In sickness and in health." "You may certainly kiss the bride." You smiled at him before kissing him softly. You pulled back suddenly... "Oh my god you are still bleeding."

#tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman fic

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binbrick · 8 months

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been listening to the dream thieves audiobook on spotify and i can't stress enough how bad i need to tear declan lynch apart like a rotisserie chicken. something about the way the narrator says ""I know you think you're a punk," Declan said. "But you're not nearly as badass as you think you are."" has altered my brain chemistry forever (ch. 53 of the audiobook if u want to hear.) like oh my GOD i literally cannot explain how much i need to absorb him through osmosis

#trc #the raven cycle #the dream thieves #declan lynch #tdt #eats him alive. tears him limb from limb.#sav sav sav

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eldrytchcryptid · 4 months

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(Spoilers Ahead)

I wrote this review on Goodreads too but like every trans dude of like adult age needs to read this damn book-

A trans man, as a romance protagonist in an actual adult novel.

Have you ever loved the words on the page of a book so much you wanted to rip them from the spine and stuff the paper into your mouth and digest them?

I think I might sleep with this book under my pillow for the next year just to absorb it into my bloodstream through osmosis.

When I tell you I have been waiting years for trans men to be properly represented in romance (or just ANY adult media at all), this book decided to grab me by the throat and force tear after tear from my eyes until I was sobbing and hollering with laughter, slamming the book down on my bed to the point where I may actually get charged with abuse.

There were points in this book where I thought I needed to check my brain for cameras - I can't speak for every trans man of course, but having the ftm experience so seamlessly written from an actually confident trans man in his identity with the same inability to realise people actually want to be around him, and the same kind of trans dick jokes and mourning over childhood - at certain point, especially when they redid the photos I started crying only to realise that Eli was crying to like "Ye bro I'd be crying too in that scenario damn."

I have truly, truly never felt so represented in a book - and I was starting to give up hope that I would ever see a trans man in an adult book who was PROPERLY written that I-

I can only thank @tjalexandernyc for writing this and hope that this is the start of trans men beginning to come into their own to being represented as something other than in teen media.

Transness aside, the book is beautifully written with amazing humour and heartwarming scenes that ripped me into thin little ribbons.

And the only qualm I had is that Eli didn't dick Nick down. I need a novella of just them exploring each other. Please. The sex scenes were just exquisite and hilarious.

I'm also gonna put some of my favourite bits here cause I have to.

#tj alexander #second chances in new port stephen #trans books #lgbt books #ftm #trans man #transgender #trans #transmasc #book review #book recommendations #queer books

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blainesebastian · 1 year

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bookends

words: 4,008 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @livwholikestv) “reader as librarian/works at a bookshop and Austin comes in every day to do research about Elvis“ warnings: none notes: requests are currently open :) thanks for reading! tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv,

You know that people probably find it silly you’ve decided that you want to work in a bookshop when the internet exists and Amazon and literally a hundred different reasons not to go into a place surrounded by shelves and the smell of paper. Those same people might say that libraries and bookstores are a dying breed—that there’s no reason to hold a book between your hands when you can download an audio version, or listen to a podcast, or buy a Kindle.

But in your opinion? Those people are idiots.

Not to be dramatic (kinda) but you were raised in book shops, cafes and libraries. Your mother was a constant reader before she passed, always had a book in her hands, always made sure you did too. You grew up between stacks upon stacks of books, physical ones, and your current apartment has a cityscape of novels, biographies, poetry, graphics, odds and ends and everything in between, fixed up on the floor of every room, read and need to read, all because your bookshelves are already overflowing.

To be frank, research with books is kinda a dying art form, or maybe you’re just talking to the wrong people. Your natural inclination when you’re looking things up is to find a book at work. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not anti-internet by any means, it’s just…there’s something about wandering through the stacks, finding the book you want or need, or sometimes it finds you, and flipping through pages between your fingers, dragging the pads across the lines, like you can somehow absorb information through osmosis.

Sometimes you feel like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, working at this little corner bookstore called BookEnds near your apartment and across the street from this perfect café in which you can get one of the best cinnamon scones you’ve ever tasted. You’d defend this place with your heart and soul—it’s not much but it’s everything to you. And people who spend time in here, who find something to buy, see that it’s got so much to offer.

More often than not, people are just unwilling to give it that chance—which is their loss.

Picking up a small stack on the front desk, you run through the titles and from memory, can gather where they go in the aisles without looking anything up. You feel like you need another round of coffee—your cat decided last night was the night to join the opera, and it was consistent and annoying. Almost like being part of a sleep test, up nearly every other hour. Running a hand through your hair, you let out a slow breath. Put these back first, then a coffee I.V. Maybe the café will actually have the hazelnut syrup that they’ve been out of that you’ve been craving.

The door opens, a small ding sounding in the bookshop and you get one look at the guy walking in—gorgeous, toned, blondish hair in larger curls near his forehead. Making a face, you reach for your co-worker’s elbow and gently touch the tip of your nose in a ‘not it’ signal.

Cathy laughs, getting a good look at him. “Oh my god, seriously?”

“He probably wants this obscure book for his girlfriend and I don’t have time to wander around for him while he attempts to get it right.”

She lets out a soft laugh because what? And you can’t help but roll your eyes back at her, a twinge of a smile on your lips. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh—it’s the coffee deficiency.

“I’m coffee deprived, can you just…”

She sighs and pushes past you, leaning against the counter as she smiles over at the handsome guy. “Hi, welcome in. Can I help you find something?”

“Yeah, uh,” He pulls out a list. And honestly you appreciate the grind, but you can’t even begin to think about doing that. “I was wonderin’ if you had any of these on hand?”

“Actually, you know what,” Cathy says as you round the counter with a stack of go-backs in your arms. “Y/N is pretty awesome at finding stuff like this.”

You stop in your tracks at the sound of your name, turning slowly to Cathy who’s grinning and wandering over with the guy’s list in hand. She trades you, taking the stack of books from your arms as she leans in—

“He’s cute.”

A soft laugh sounds in your throat, glancing over at the waiting customer and…okay, she’s got a point but, so? You’re still under the assumption that he’s here to somehow impress a girlfriend with this laundry list of books. Moving back around the counter, you lean against it to look at what he’s brought in and—

You raise your eyebrows because there’s ten books on this list, ten, and they clearly all fall to the same theme. Elvis: What happened?, Elvis & Me, Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley…

“You doin’ a book report?”

He hums with a small nod, lifting his hand up to rub the back of his neck, “Somethin’ like that.” And uh, okay, strange—but you can’t deny you’re slightly intrigued. Maybe the guy is just into learning rock history. He’s kinda got that charm to him, just slightly, bedroom eyes, natural charisma.

“You got a thing for Elvis?”

He glances up at you, blue eyes bright and amused even though you’re not sure you get the joke. He smiles then—handsome, it reaches right into your chest and squeezes, “Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

You let out a laugh and gaze through some of the other titles. Your half wondering why he’s come to such a hole-in-the-wall bookstore for these when he probably could have done some sort of mass ordering on Barnes & Noble or Amazon but then he begins to talk again,

“I saw on your website that you do rent before you buy—kinda like a library.”

You hum and nod, “Yeah, we give you a card and everything. I call it ‘the book club for undecided people’.”

He smirks and undoes one of the buttons on his jean jacket, loosening up, your eyes glancing at his fingers as he lingers near the counter. He’s got this simple yet attractive look which…it works for him, doesn’t always for most people. The black jean jacket brings out the lightness in his eyes and the blonde in his hair.

Clearing your throat to kinda reset your brain, you take a look at the list again and do a mental checklist. “Okay so…we’re out of two of these right now and I can only lend out five at a time.”

He raises his eyebrows and you can tell right away that he’s either impressed with your memory or that he doesn’t quite believe the inventory.

“You can recall what you got just by lookin’ at the list?”

You playfully tap your temple, “All up here.”

You’ve worked here for a long time, pretty much all through high school, college…in and outs of this place down to the very floorboards that creak when you walk on them. He then switches gears, running a hand through his hair,

“Only five?” Back to the book renting, “Thought libraries could do a lot more than that.” And you’re about to tell him that this isn’t a real library, pursing your lips to explain— “Any exceptions?”

You scoff out a small laugh because okay, no matter how easily handsome this man is, you slowly turn the sign around that’s next to you on the counter to face him. In red font, Five Books NO EXCEPTIONS.

“We got a low inventory because or Mr. Exceptions like yourself.”

He crinkles his nose, definitely not thrilled with this information but you’re not sure what else you can offer him. “I kinda wanted to just hole myself up in my apartment and read.”

Taking a moment to look at his face, you can tell that there might be something more to it than that but you can’t put your finger on it. “All of them at once?” Just a small joke at his expense, but at least he smiles.

You take a clipboard out from underneath the counter, putting a form on there for him to fill out for the book rental.

“Fill this out, I’ll grab your first five. Unless you have a preference?”

He shakes his head, taking a pen out of the cup near the register. You hum lightly, moving quickly towards the aisles that hold the books you need. There’s a combination of Elvis Presley books in Biographies, Music History, and then some shelf names personal to the bookstore, like: Heartthrob Tragedies and King Shit (which has such a wide variety it’s almost funny).

Bringing back five different books for him, you set them down on the counter as he finishes the signature on the bottom of the form and pushes the clipboard towards you. Picking it up, you grab a card and peel the sticker off the back that his a barcode number on it and paste it to the top of his form.

“Alright,” You smile, “You’re all set. Happy reading.”

He takes a look at the books, his list sticking out the top of one of them. “So I just come back when I’m ready to purchase or trade in?”

“Yep,” You glance down at the form, “Austin.” You smile a little, “We get to do this all over again.”

He laughs softly through his nose, picking up the stack, “Looking forward to it.”

Was that a joke? There was definitely a smirk attached and your eyes follow him as he leaves the bookstore, the little bell jingling to signal his departure. Humming, you look down at the clipboard and begin typing in his information into the computer so he’s registered.

Cathy comes back around the counter, letting out a sigh that’s far too early in the day for. Ugh, you still need that coffee. Okay, form first, then a very large caffeine remedy. She takes the form off the clipboard when you’re done with it and you notice her eyes nearly bulge out of her head.

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me?” She laughs, motioning towards the paper, “I knew he looked familiar. Couldn’t put my finger on it.”

You’re so confused, kinda just blinking at her until she finally explains.

Cathy shakes her head, pointing to the paper, “Austin Butler. You know—Once Upon a Time in Hollywood?, Carrie Diaries…” She grins, “Shannara Chronicles!”

“Okay, now you’re just saying words.” You chuckle, moving forward to touch the bottom of the paper. “You’re saying that was him?”

“Definitely.”

You chew on your lower lip as you take a look at the computer screen, the saved profile of Austin’s in the ‘undecided book club’ tab. What are the odds? And all before your morning coffee.

You kinda forget about it—Austin, the Elvis books, the fact that this actor has found this corner of the city bookstore to wander into to look for his novels. Definitely a choice, right? Whatever, he probably won’t even come back himself, have his agent or something drop off the books he thumbed through and call it a day.

Except, you’re scrolling on Instagram one night and you come across a photoshoot of Austin and one click ends up on another post, another share, another Instastory, into a black hole of YouTube interviews and…turns out, seems like Austin is a nice guy. What can you really know from watching a bunch of that stuff, you’re sure he’s different in front of a camera vs. talking to someone but…even candid interactions he has with fans of his seem completely genuine.

There’s this moment where you kinda second guess whether or not that was actually him in the bookstore.

Your mind wanders about a lot of things pertaining to Austin, keeping you awake and staring at the ceiling and the rain against the windowpane. Why all the books on Elvis? Genuine interest or some kind of…research for a new project? A film? Wouldn’t that be interesting. Maybe you’re jumping to conclusion but your mind whirs with possibilities.

And you definitely feel like a zombie when you head into work, even with coffee in hand.

Cathy just kinda snickers at you and says nothing, which is good, because the last thing you’d want to do is ruin this perfectly good cup of coffee by tossing it on her. You get into the groove of the work day, though, helping out customers that wander in, tourists, putting books away that were either returned, misplaced, or from new shipments.

You decide you’re going to put together a great new display in the front of the bookstore for murder mysteries, so that keeps you busy, barely hearing the bell go off until you feel someone come up beside you. You’re debating on labeling it—I got 99 problems but Ms. Scarlet in the Library with a candlestick ain’t one. Probably too long…but funny, right?

“Do you actually read any of these before you put them out in front like this?”

Your heart jolts right up into your throat as you recognize the timbre, stomach flip flopping in this embarrassing way because before you had no idea who Austin even was and now your body is acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Centering yourself, you turn a little to look at him, your eyes taking him in. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt, leather jacket this time because of course he is. Looking far too handsome to just be browsing through books.

“Yes,” You raise your eyebrows, “As many as I can—life gets in the way sometimes, you know.” He hums in agreement, picking up one of the books on display to read the back. You’re feeling antsy underneath your skin, “Buying any books today?”

“Elvis & Me,” He replies, putting the book down to give you his attention. “Really liked that one.”

You smile a little and…swear he’s beginning to sound like Elvis, just a little? Some of the inflections in his tone, the roughness around the edges. Or maybe you’re imagining things.

“Definitely a good one,” You agree, “Kinda sad though.”

“All are kinda sad.” Austin adds and you suppose you can’t disagree with that.

You walk to the counter with him as he takes the other books out, a few pages folded at the tips but you won’t lecture him on that. There’s this comfortable silence that’s filled with cars outside, tires on slick rain-covered pavement, soft movement and people moving throughout the stacks, footsteps on wood.

You open up his profile on the computer by typing in his last name and you kinda glance up at him to find that his eyes are already on you, trailing over your form. You really try not to give him the satisfaction of blushing.

Sighing a little, you lean against the counter and consider your words carefully before meeting his gaze. “So…were you gonna tell me?”

It takes him about a half a second to realize what you’re talking about and he purses his lips, eyes sparkling in shared amusement and cheekiness. “Maybe…would it have let me rent more than five books out at a time?”

You laugh softly, checking off each of the books he’s returned before ringing him up for the Elvis & Me. “No, but that was a solid attempt.” You look at the list he’s brought back and tap the paper with your finger, “Next five?”

He nods and follows you into the stacks as you search for his books. It’s kinda nice actually, because once you find one of the books he wants, you’re able to hand it to him to hold. It doesn’t take you very long, you know this place like a blueprint imprinted on your mind—and Austin notices that.

“What made you want to work here?”

You hum, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. You feel like it’s such a loaded question sometimes and you swallow down the urge to reply sarcastically, the knee jerk reaction to defend your choices. Why be a bookstore clerk when you could literally be doing anything else? Like having a successful career?

“Well, it should be fairly obvious that I love books,” You smile over your shoulder, moving towards another aisle, “And uh…” You have no idea why you’re telling him this, he’s practically a stranger, and yet you know Austin relates given your late night research and there’s this aura around him that you can’t explain that makes you feel completely comfortable with him, “Well my mom loved to read, she always had something different in her hands,” You lick your lips, handing him another book. “She died two years ago.”

Austin pauses, a soft nod, “I’m sorry. Makes you feel closer to her, I’m sure.”

As you turn a corner, you hesitate to look at him. He does get it, without you even having to say it, “Yeah, exactly.”

There’s one more book that’s on Austin’s list that you’re having a bit of trouble finding but it’s probably because the teenager who works in here on Saturdays mis-shelved it. You chew on your lower lip, checking one more place.

“So I’m assumin’ you’ve got a favorite book.”

“Oh of course,” You check behind a few novels and…got it. Pulling it out triumphantly, you put it on Austin’s stack in his hands. “Doesn’t everyone? Though it really depends on the mood I’m in—how are you ever supposed to pick just one?”

He smiles as he listens, like the concept of having multiple favorites is intriguing. And it’s definitely one of things you noticed in the interviews you watched, how Austin gives his complete attention over to another person. He might have been the one being asked questions in some cases but he gives that equal attention back—easily looping you into the warmth of the conversation by making sure he knows your name, asking questions back, listening with intent, not just because it looks good.

So you feel like he’s waiting for a legitimate response and…well, you want to give it to him. You do love talking about books.

“Favorite like…I could read it a million times over or favorite as in ‘if I could only pick one book to read for my whole life’?”

He purses his lips, “Last part.”

You hum, something difficult. Alright, well, you enjoy a challenge. You ponder the question a few times over as you both walk to the front of the store, getting ready to check him out for his new set of rented books.

“My favorite is The Things They Carried by Tim’O Brien,” You smile a little, putting his new selection of Elvis related books under his profile and pushing them towards him when you’re done, “It’s historical fiction and I know that sounds boring right off the bat,” You laugh, “But the writing is really beautiful and it’s told in a series of vignettes that you can read separately or out of order.”

Austin smiles, “You have a copy here?”

Your eyebrows crinkle together a bit in confusion but you nod, “Yeah, I can uh…I can add it to your rent list for next time.”

“I’ll just buy it,” Austin replies, taking his wallet out.

You let out a soft laugh in surprise, “Uhm, I mean…you don’t even know if you’re gonna like it yet.”

“But it comes so highly recommended,” He teases, “And it’ll give me a good reason to ask for your number.”

There’s a long string of moments in which you know he can’t be serious, the back of your neck heating up and your cheeks going red. That seems to be the response he’s after, because his eyes flutter over your face, a small smirk pulling the ends of his mouth. And that doesn’t seem fair at all.

You bite the inside of your cheek, keeping him on his toes too by saying, “Really think I’ll need to hear your review on my favorite book first.”

Austin doesn’t expect that, you can see it on his face as he slowly smiles, nodding as he gathers up the books he’s taking with him. “I’ll be back with a review then.”

And while you’re not exactly going to hold your breath? You can’t say that you’re not looking forward to that.

Cathy thinks you’re downright crazy, and maybe you are, but it seemed like such a smooth idea at the time to have Austin wait to get your number. But then a week passes, and then two, and then it’s an entire month.

Then it’s three and you’re almost certain this man isn’t coming back.

There’s no set return date for the books, exactly, either. If a customer doesn’t bring them back within a year, their card is charged. But you have a feeling that’d be something insignificant to someone like Austin. There’s no use fretting over it—maybe you missed a moment, a shot, and yet nothing is stopping him from coming in either, right?

You let it go (barely, but you’re working on it).

Coming into the bookstore later one day than you usually do, a cup of coffee in your hand, you’re looking down at your phone (rookie mistake) and nearly knock someone right over.

“Oh sorry,” You look up at the jet-black haired guy and…blink.

“Just the person I was lookin’ for.” Austin smiles and you’re pretty sure your brain is restarting because—

“Did you…” Your eyes graze over his curls, the style exactly the same except for the shade and it brings out the blueness of his irises. Definitely not a bad look for him, but unquestionably striking in difference, “What were trying to come in undercover since you disappeared for three months?”

He laughs lightly and at least has the decency to look a little guilty, “Yeah I uh, I got caught up,” And there’s an apology in the tone of his voice even though he doesn’t say the words out loud. You wonder if it has anything to do with the sudden hair change…which looks very closely related to Elvis, if you were to think about it.

“But it gave me a chance to read your book like I said I was goin’ to.”

You hum and move towards the counter to put your things down, sliding your coat off your shoulders. You’re genuinely wondering what he thought about it, especially since you didn’t think he would read it at all…or commit book-robbery and come back into the bookstore. So a pleasant surprise for sure and you straighten your shoulders, attempting to shake out the frazzled feeling nipping at the bottom of your stomach.

You pick up your coffee and take a long sip, “So—what about a two-word review to get us started.”

Austin licks his lips, leaning against the counter as he thinks about it. Not an easy answer, for sure, and you’re glad he’s actually taking the time to formulate a response.

And then— “Hauntingly beautiful.”

Your stomach drops straight to your knees and it feels like a breeze brushes through the bookstore, traveling down your spine. You swallow over an emotion in your throat, heartbeat kinda picking up in your ears and while you know it’s a coincidence? It just doesn’t feel like one.

Your mom used to use the exact same words to describe your favorite book. Hauntingly beautiful. Something that Austin would obviously never know.

Taking in a short breath, you grab a post-it from near the register and scribble your name and phone number on it, handing it over to him with a small smile.

“Good answer.”

Austin smirks, taking the post-it with an agreeing hum. You have no idea where this is going to go, if anywhere, but you’ve always been a fan of reading new books…and you’re looking forward to see how this chapter is going to write itself.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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remedyturtles · 8 months

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cmh x dw ficlet

literally just a short lil thing i wrote bc @callmehere-iwillappear and i were smacking our AU's together like dolls talking about if death wish sensei/leo and call me here leo met ... and then i got emotional abt ghost leo being a touch starved baby who doesn't get any hugs LMAO

[]

"What's with the tree?" The dead version of himself asked, kicking the trunk of the tree and looking up to watch the vibrations ripple up and shake the branches.

Sensei thought he looked so young, but he always thought that about his Leo. Though this new one had a quality that was different -- a hungry sort of loneliness, something in his eyes was almost desolate, like someone lost or homeless. He had been immediately willing to jump into the mindscape when they said maybe he could interact with them in there. "I'm the tree." Sensei said, waiting for him. They'd decided on Leon for the ghostly version, if only to save confusion with three Leo's in one brain. Leon's grin was flawless, turning to Sensei and saying, "Hey man, you look great for a tree." "You look great for a ghost." Sensei said. "Are you coming to see if you can get a hug or not?" The grin wavered. He didn't come closer, one arm hugging the other in what was probably a subconscious self-soothing gesture. "It probably won't work." "Where's your scientific method? Donnie would be so disappointed." Sensei goaded. He wondered how many times Leon had tried to get a hug and failed in order to be so pessimistic about it. It was a sore spot in his throat to think about. "Do I look like I know science?" Leon replied, and it was so a front because any Leo in the world would've absorbed at least the basics of the scientific method from their twin by sheer osmosis alone. "Test your theory before you discard it." Sensei didn't want to push him, not getting closer, but opening his arm in offer. Visible conflict on Leon's face. Want and pain. It vanished like smothering a fire with a blanket and he said, "Fine, but only because an old man like you looks like he needs a hug." Sensei snorted. He waited, and Leon approached, reaching out a hand. It shook just a little, and landed on his bicep. "Oh." Leon said, disbelieving. Then threw himself at Sensei. It was such an unexpected burst of energy that it knocked him directly off his feet. Sensei oofed and laughed, squishing the littler Leon to his chest. Leon tried to say something but it only came out as a strangled noise. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Sensei's plastron. Sensei's heart broke for him, rubbing his shell in circles how he knew all Leo's appreciated. "Heads up!" Leo shouted, leaping from the branches and colliding with their hug. It burst a hysterical laugh from Leon's chest, rolling to include the new body in their tangled hug, holding tight like they didn't need to let go.

#fic stuff #death wish #“im taking a writing break” they said #apparently lying #rem fic

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