#I’ve learned a lot this year. I learned that things don’t always turn our the way you planned

[authenticity2025]

I’ve learned a lot this year. I learned that things don’t always turn our the way you planned, or the way you think they should. And I’ve learned that there are things that go wrong that don’t always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before. I’ve learned that some broken things stay broken, and I’ve learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones, as long as you have people who love you Jennifer Weiner

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Script

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart

Masterlist

“We broke up.”

The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face. Ned turned around in his desk chair and pulled his earbuds out of his ears.

“What? No way.” He laughed dismissively at the assumed joke until he noticed the red rim around Peter’s eyes.

“It’s true. She broke up with me. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” Peter repeated through a childlike cry.

“But I thought you had a date tonight? Did something happen?”

10 minutes earlier

“Peter?”

Peter froze in the alleyway and stopped looking for his backpack. He turned around slowly and saw you standing there under a harsh street light with his backpack in your arms. The webs he had shot on it to keep it secured against the wall were still hanging off.

“It’s you? You’re the Spiderman?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. You were looking at him with a mixture of betrayal and confusion as you clutched his backpack like you were a child with a teddy bear. Peter still had his mask on so he stayed dead silent.

“Say something.” You seethed, a newfound anger in your voice and eyes. Peter gulped and nodded his head, knowing there was no point in lying.

“I am.” He said, making your face crumble when you heard his voice. You held the backpack tighter and stared at him as your face crumbled.

“What are you doing out here? Did you follow me?” Peter asked you.

“No. You never showed up to our date. I called you when I was walking home. Alone. I heard your phone ringing in this alley way. It was in your backpack. Here’s your stupid fucking backpack.” You said through clenched teeth and threw the backpack at him. He caught it with ease and dropped it to the floor.

“There have been Spiderman sightings on Youtube for years. Years. You never told me?” You asked and surveyed every inch of his suit as you saw it up close for the first time.

“Nobody knows.” He said quickly. “I mean, May knows. And Ned. And a handful of people I work with. But that’s it, I swear. I don’t expect you to understand this all right now but please believe that I have to keep my identity a secret for my safety. And your safety too.”

“You don’t expect me to understand?” You laughed and tilted your head to the side as if to ask if he was serious.

“I just mean that I know this is a lot to process right now.”

“It’s not a lot. You’re the Spiderman and you never thought that was something I should know. I had to find out on accident after getting stood up for the hundredth time. But, sure, I’m glad Ned knows.” You nodded and looked up so your tears wouldn’t fall.

“I would’ve have told you eventually. I just needed more time. If people knew who I was, everything would change. I wouldn’t be able to help people there way I do now. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Since when am I just “people”and “anyone” to you?” You shook your head. “How could you keep this from me for this long? We’ve been dating for over a year. And I’ve known you since middle school. How much time did you need?“

“I don’t know. It just never felt like the right moment to say it. I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“You just never did.” You shrugged. Peter recognized that the situation was quickly escalating and you were not reacting the way he always imagined you would.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting upset right now.” Peter said calmly. “I thought you’d be happy to understand why I have to miss so many dates and flake all the time.”

“You thought I’d be happy to learn that you’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship?” You laughed again as tears fell down your face.

“I wasn’t lying.” He defended. “I just couldn’t tell you the truth yet.”

“Yet. Right.” You smiled tightly. “We’re over a year in but haven’t gotten to the point where you can be honest with me. I see.”

“I am honest with you. This is the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about. I promise.” He said and tried to step closer to you. You immediately stepped back and hugged yourself.

“I thought you loved me.” You said as you stared at the ground.

“I do love you. How can you even question that?” He laughed in shock. You looked up at him and he saw that your anger had turned to sadness.

“Peter, you stood me up countless times. Tonight included. You let me cry myself to sleep for so many nights. All those times I walked home alone after already getting to the restaurant or watched movie by myself through tears because you couldn’t bother to show up. You knew I was feeling insecure lately about the distance between us but you still decided to say nothing to cue me in as to why it was happening. Do you know how painful it is to feel someone you love pulling away and have them tell you your suspicions are all unfounded? How long would you have let me feel that way if I hadn’t caught you tonight?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how this was affecting you.” Peter said quietly.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“Look, I know this is really upsetting now, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Peter said and put his hands on his shoulders. You pushed him off of you and took a step back. Peter gulped and wondered how he was going to make it out of this conversation alive because he had never seen you reject him like this.

“You always say that. And you never do. I have a long list of things I’m still waiting for you to make up for. Why should I believe this time is different?” You asked him and folded your arms.

“It will be different. I promise. I’ll fix this. Stop walking away from me.” Peter pleaded and reached out to touch your face.

“It’ll be different. You promise. You say the same thing every time. And yet, I always end up crying over you. I shouldn’t have to cry over a relationship I’m still in.” You said as you pushed his hand away from you. An anxiety built in Peter’s stomach as he was used to you telling him it was fine every time he had disappointed you in the past. This time was clearly different and he didn’t know what to do. You turned and started to walk away from him so he quickly followed after.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, Peter.” You said without stopping.

“No. You can’t leave now. We have to talk about this. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. You can take it all out on me. Just don’t go, please.” Peter begged as he stepped in front of you to stop you.

“I don’t want to cry anymore, Peter. I’m done. This is done.” You cried and pushed past him to keep walking. Peter froze when he heard you use that word and felt his blood run cold.

“What? Done? Done with what?”

“With you. With us. With all of it. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m breaking up with you.” You said as you turned around to look at him. Peter felt his stomach drop and could barely hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“What? We can’t just break up. I love you.” He protested as he got that feeling in his nose that told him he was about to cry.

“That’s not good enough for me.” You shook your head.

“What?”

“You can say you love me as much as you want but until you prove that, I can’t be with you. I won’t be with you. I’m done.” You repeated and turned to walk away again. Peter quickly ran after you and dropped down to his knees in front of you.

“No, no. No. Please. Don’t leave me. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Just give me one more chance.” He begged as he took both your hands. You looked down at him for a long time as you thought things he wished he could hear.

“Please.” He whispered, barely audible. You looked up again but it was no use to stop your tears from falling.

“Say something.” He pleaded and squeezed your hands.

“I’m saying goodbye.” You said after a beat of silence. Peter made the mistake of letting his hopes build up during that silence. He stayed on his knees as you pulled your hands out of his and walked away. His tears fell rapidly down his face and it wasn’t long before his heartache turned into misplaced anger. He got off his knees and turned in your direction.

“You’re not being fair.” He called down the street. You stopped in your tracks and turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask to be bitten. I didn’t ask for this life and all this responsibility. But it happened to me and I’ll never know why but I do know that I have to do something about it. I wish I could be a normal guy my age and take my girlfriend on dates, but I can’t. I have a duty to this city to protect it. I hate that it’s true but sometimes, I have to chose helping someone in need over spending time with you. You’re acting like I went out of my way to neglect you on purpose.”

“I understand that you didn’t choose this, but you could have told me all of that from the start. Then maybe I would’ve been more sympathetic. But right now, all I can think about is every little lie you told me to keep me in the dark. Oh, I’m sick. Oh, I have homework. Oh, I have to help my boss with something. Tonight, you told me you weren’t gonna make it to our date because your aunt needed help with something. You didn’t even care enough to lie about what she needed help with. But, yet, at least I got a lie tonight. Sometimes you just don’t show up.”

“I had to lie, okay? Do you have any idea how much danger I’d be in if you let it slip who I really was?”

“So is it that you couldn’t tell anyone or you couldn’t trust me not to tell?” You asked as you walked back up to him.

“You know how you are. You tell your friends everything.” He said coldly.

“Are you seriously saying this is my fault?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault.” He sighed. “I’m just saying that you’re being kind of selfish right now.“

“I’m being selfish?”

“Yes, you are. It’s selfish to expect me to prioritize you over the safety of-“

“Of who?” You cut him off. “Of literally all of New York? Of the world? Where does your domain of responsibility end? Who do you prioritize me over? Where do I rank? When do I matter to you?”

“That’s not fair.” Was all he could say because he didn’t know the answer to your questions.

“You know what else isn’t fair? Making me have to be the only bad guy here. Because the funny thing is that I would have been proud of you. I would have been honored to be the girlfriend of someone who risked their life and gave their time to protect people they didn’t even know. But you never gave me the opportunity to feel that way. You chose to lie to me. You chose this over me every single time. You never chose me. That’s why we’re breaking up. I would have understood if you needed to prioritize saving lives over dates with me but I cannot understand you lying to my face every single day for years. I spent birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and countless nights staring at the empty seat I saved for you that you never showed up to. So no, I don’t think I’m being selfish right now. I don’t think it was selfish of me to share my boyfriend with all of New York.”

Peter was quiet again as he processed what you had said. There was no way to undo what he had done and it was clear apologizing wasn’t cutting it this time.

“I don’t know how to be without you. You’re my best friend. None of this matters without you.” Peter said in a small voice. You sighed and felt sympathetic towards him for just a moment.

“Peter, you were and always will be my first love. That’s always going to mean something to me. But now I have to look back at our relationship and never know what was real and what was a lie. If you’re not going to choose me, then I will. I’m done waiting around for you. I’m done.”

“Please, don’t give up on me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He croaked out.

“But you did.”

“I know. I know I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never stop trying to make things right.” He pleaded and tried to reach for you again.

“Don’t bother, Peter. You need to stay away from me for a while.” You told him in a calm voice.

“What? How long?” He blinked in disbelief.

“I don’t know. A long time.”

“But can we at least be friends? Like we were before?” He asked desperately.

“We can’t be friends.” You shook your head and turned to leave again.

“What? Not even friends?” His voice cracked as he called after you.

“I can’t be your friend. I can’t be in any kind of relationship with you. That’s what I’m trying to say here. I don’t trust you.”

“Ever?” He squeaked out. “We can’t ever find our back to each other?”

You didn’t answer him as you walked home alone. Peter stood on the sidewalk for a long time, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted to run after you and get you to see his side, but he knew that would just make things worse. You had said what you needed to say and he had to respect that as much as it pained him to see you walk away. Instead of going after you, he swung to Ned’s house and climbed through his window.

“We broke up.” The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face.

Peter let a month pass before he tried to speak to you again. Minus a few texts and voicemails left on particularly miserable nights, he had left you alone for the most part. But after counting down the 31 painfully long and quiet days without you, he went up to you in the hallway on campus one day.

“Hey.” He greeted you with an anxious smile. You stopped walking and looked behind you to make sure you were the one he was talking to.

“Hi.” You said with knit eyebrows of confusion.

“How are you? How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” You said flatly.

“Did you just come from class? Was it okay?”

“Um, I really don’t want to be mean here but why are you talking to me?” You asked him. Peter blinked in surprise at your response and lost all the confidence he had built up.

“Oh, um. I don’t know. We haven’t talked into a month. I was giving you space.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Giving me space.” You replied. “I still don’t want to talk to you.”

“But it’s been a month.” He pointed out and realized how silly he sounded as it came out of his mouth.

“Okay? We ended a year long relationship and years of friendship. We can’t just go back to normal after that.”

“But…but we’re different.” He stammered. “We were different. I thought, I don’t know, maybe…”

“Maybe what? I’ll just forget about the shit you put me through?” You asked when he trailed off. He shut his mouth and went quiet and you couldn’t help but feel bad at the deer in headlights look he had in his eyes.

“Peter, I told you.” You sighed. “We can’t be friends.”

“I know we can’t go right back to how we were but we don’t have to pretend the other doesn’t even exist.” He insisted.

“No, Peter, you’re not understanding. I won’t be your friend. I won’t even fake niceties with you. I’m not trying to be mean but I don’t want you in my life in any capacity. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“We can’t just never speak again. Our story can’t end like this.” He said quietly and you could tell he was on the verge of tearing up.

“It wasn’t supposed to. But it is. So please, just leave me alone.” You asked calmly so that he wouldn’t break down.

“I can’t. This is killing me. You and I not being together doesn’t make sense to me. Please. I’ll do anything to make this right. I still love you and-“

“Peter. Please. We’re at school.” You cut him off and uncomfortably looked around for who was listening.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel anything for me anymore? Because I don’t believe that. I know you. I know you can’t shake things that easily.”

“I didn’t think so either. But I’ve never been hurt like this.”

“Then can we please go somewhere and talk? I’ll listen this time. I swear.” Peter pleaded and stepped forward to touch your arm. You stared at him for a minute and looked sympathetic so he thought you might say yes.

“I can’t.” You said finally. “I have class. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded in disappointment. “Maybe some other time then. Just please know how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’ve moved on. I think you should too.”

“You’ve moved on? Like, with another guy?” Peter blinked a few times to stop the tears he felt threatening to spill out at this new bit of information.

“Not that it would be any of your business if I did, but no.” You amswered. “I just mean that I’d been mourning our relationship before it even ended so I accepted our breakup a long time ago. I’ve moved on now.”

“Were you really that unhappy?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“Well, yeah, Peter.” You admitted. “I loved you when you were around but it felt awful the nights you were gone. I felt completely alone a lot of the time. And even when you were with me, I was never sure you wanted to be there.”

“I always wanted to be with you.” He promised. “If you ever believe something I say again, just know how badly I wished I could have been there with you.”

You chewed your bottom lip and stared into his eyes as you tried to decide if you should believe him or not. You swore never to believe another word out of his mouth but his tired eyes seemed so genuine that you knew there must be truth to his words. But even if he was telling the truth, that didn’t matter to you anymore.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I have class.”You repeated. “Get some sleep tonight, okay? You don’t look so good.”

Another month went by and Peter was starting to feel used to not speaking to you. The thought of it beginning to feel normal to not have you in his life scared him so he called you up one night and listened to your voicemail with tears in his eyes. By month three, he pretty much just felt numb. He was falling to pieces very quickly and you were the only one who could save him. He’d seen you around on campus and sometimes get a pity wave if he stared too long. Every so often, he’d follow you home but keep his distance on rooftops. He swore you knew he was there as sometimes you’d stop and look up. He made no effort to hide but you made no effort to seek him out.

Peter was on his nightly patrol one night when his police radio started going crazy. He heard the words “bus crash” and “pile up” being reported over and over so he picked up his radio to listen for where it was. Once he had a location, he swung to the bridge and landed in the middle of the scene. Peter saw one of the large city buses on its side and twenty some cars piled up behind it. Police officers were already on the scene and helping people but Peters senses were telling him danger was still present.

“How can I help?” Peter asked an officer.

“Usually I don’t like seeing you at crime scenes but you might be able to help us. A bus is about to over the side of the bridge and our extraction guys are having a hard time getting onto the bridge with all the traffic.”

“Which bus?” Peter asked and looked around.

“It’s over there. Bus Q8.” The officer pointed out. There was a bus hanging over the side of the bridge with its nose pointed towards the water. Peter could see people inside trying to stay calm so they didn’t shake the bus.

“Q8? My girlfriend takes that bus.” Peter’s mouth went dry as his head shot back to the bus teetering over the edge of the bridge.

“Then you better hurry.” The officer called after Peter. The bus was on its side so Peter opened up the emergency hatch on the top and climbed inside. He calmed down the people on the bus one by one and assured them that he was there to get them to safety. As he spoke to the passengers, he kept an eye out for you but didn’t see you in any of the seats. You normally took the bus home at this time and Peter found it hard to believe this was the one day you didn’t.

“Was there a girl on this bus with a purple backpack? She was wearing brown converse and a jean jacket today. Did any see her?” He asked the passengers.

“Yeah. She was sitting over there.” Someone answered and pointed to the back of the bus. Peter went to your seat but only found your backpack.

“This is her backpack. Where is she?” He asked and felt his fear rise quickly. He looked around and saw that the back door of the bus was opened. He pushed the door open a little more and the bus wobbled at his movement.

“Did she leave?” Peter asked with his panic evident in his voice.

“She was helping a few people get out of the back until this little boy ran out. She told the mom she’d go find him. I haven’t seen her since.” Someone else informed him.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get you guys to safety.” Peter promised. He helped people out of the back of the bus one by one after securing the bus to the bridge with his webs. Once he was sure everyone was out safely, he began to search for you. He had an anxiety like nothing he had ever felt as he searched through the crowds for your face. As he looked around the scene, he heard a woman talking to a police officer about a girl falling over into the water. Peter felt his hair stand up and approached them.

“Excuse me? Was the girl who fell into the water wearing brown converse?” He asked and hoped the answer was no.

“I think so.” The woman replied but couldn’t be sure.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked.

“This girl helped me get my son after he ran off the bus. He had climbed into an empty car nearby to hide so she climbed in to get him. But the car fell into the water before she could get out herself.” The woman replied as she clutched her son to her chest.

“Did…did the car go under?” Peter asked with a dry mouth. The woman looked pained at his question and he already knew her answer.

“When I looked over the side, I saw it sink under the water. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do. Did you know her?” The woman asked and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The police officer started asking Peter questions but he couldn’t hear anything. He felt like he was about to pass out and stumbled backwards. He took off running towards the side of the bridge and looked over into the water. The rocky river water looked especially treacherous that night, sending a sick feeling to Peter’s stomach. He wasted no time and dove into the water in search of you. He swam down and eventually found a car in the water but when he pulled the doors open, there was no sign of you. Peter quickly swam up to gasp for air before going back down to look again. He did this five times before he exhausted himself. He dragged himself onto the little patch of grass at the base of the bridge and laid on the ground. He pulled his mask off and let out a guttural sob as he covered his face with his hands. He knew he had to pull himself up and help the people on the bridge but his entire body felt like lead. He rubbed the saltwater out of his eyes and took another minute to recover. As he rolled over to get himself up, he made eye contact with you.

“Peter?” You asked in a shaky voice. You were wet from the river and holding yourself as you slowly walked toward him.

“You’re okay?” Peter asked as he got up off the ground. You were shivering from the cold and he wished desperately that he had something he could cover you with.

“Yeah. I managed to get out through the trunk of the car. I was on the other side of the platform when I heard you crying. Did you go looking for me?” You asked when you realized he was wet too. Peter was still in stunned silence at the sight of you okay after accepting that you had likely drowned.

“You’re okay.” He said and started to get all chocked up again. Peter took a step forward and opened his arms to hug you hit stopped himself. He stepped back and hugged himself instead.

“What are you doing?” You wondered.

“Giving you space.” He said seriously. It made you laugh for some reason which he didn’t understand but he didn’t question it.

“Shut up.” You said when your laughter stopped.

“I didn’t say anything.” Peter said as you threw your arms around him. He stumbled back in surprise but then hugged you back tightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and slipped his hands into your hair to hold you closer. It felt like muscle memory to hold you again and the chill in his bones was gone in seconds.

“That was really scary. When the car fell into the water. I couldn’t breathe.” You choked out and he held you tighter.

“I know. Shhh. I know.” He whispered in your ear as you struggled to catch your breath. You pulled away just a little so that you could look at him.

“I thought of you.” You admitted. “When I was trying to find my way back to the surface. I was so tired and my lungs felt like they were going to explode but I just kept thinking that I needed to see you again. That’s what kept me going.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I should’ve been here.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled sadly and touched his face. Peter returned the sad smile, the kind the made his eyes crinkle. But as he stared into your eyes, he couldn’t help but think of the things you had said the night you broke up.

“I should’ve been there for you a lot more than I ever had been.” He began. “You didn’t deserve to spend all those nights alone wondering where I was. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to you. I should have just told you the truth. I don’t even know who I was protecting in the end. I told myself it was you but that’s not true because you still got hurt and I was the one who hurt you. And I’m so sorry for that. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do this right now.” You assured him.

“I do. Because I don’t know when you’re gonna talk to me again and I have so much I have to tell you. So I need you to know that I’m sorry for all the times you got dressed up for me and just never showed. I’m sorry I let you think the distance between us was all in your head even though I felt it too. I’m sorry for all the calls and texts after we broke up because I could never stay away from you. And for following you home everyday because you looking up when you thought to was around was the closest to an encounter that we had most days. And I’m sorry that I clearly didn’t love you hard enough if you were able to move on so quickly. I guess the absence of my love wasn’t much worse than the presence of it. Or maybe the presence of it already felt like an absence. I know I was barely there in the end. I know you deserve better. And I hope you get better. You were always the best part of me and now I’m just the loser who got really lucky that a cool girl liked him and found a way to fuck it all up.”

“You didn’t fuck it all up.” You smiled sadly. “We had a lot of good times too. We were happy.”

“Not enough for you to stay. Which I don’t blame you for. I wish it didn’t take losing you to realize how much I needed to change but it did. So I don’t blame you for being fine without me. You’ll always be fine. You’re better off now without me in your life and I’m just falling to pieces. I guess when a heart breaks, it doesn’t break even.”

You started at him for a moment as your eyebrows came together. You let out a short laugh and expected him to do the same but he just looked confused.

“That’s that song.” You said finally.

“What?”Peter frowned. “What song? I’m pouring my heart out here.”

“I’m falling to pieces, yeah. I’m falling to piece, yeah. Cause when a heartbreak no it don’t break even.” You sang quietly and Peters eyes went up in surprise.

“Oh shit. It is that song.” Peter realized. “Damn it. I thought I made that up. I’ve been listening to The Script a lot lately. Especially the one that’s like “cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be.” I’ve been blasting that one so much that May had to take my speakers away. So then I started scream-singing it and she threatened to kick me out.”

“It’s so like you to accidentally quote a popular song and think you made it up yourself.” You laughed softly. “You said I so confidently that I genuinely believe for a second that those were your own words. But no. It was just the musical stylings of the popular early 2000s band The Script.”

“The Script are the only people that understand me right now.” Peter mumbled, making you laugh again.

“You laugh but they make the best music for yearning.” Peter continued just to make you laugh again. He smiled at the sight of you laughing at something he had said after so many months of silence between you. When your laughter died down, you looked at him for a moment the way that you used to.

“I don’t want you to yearn anymore.” You told him and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter understood what you were getting at and nodded his head.

“Do you think we could try again?” He asked in a soft voice. You smiled a little and took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest.

“I think so.” You answered.

“I swear, everything will be different this time.” He insisted. “I won’t leave you lonely anymore. And we can take it at any pace you need. Just tell me what I can do to earn back your trust.”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I can trust a guy who dives into the Hudson River for me.” You said with a coy smile as you nodded towards the water.

“I really hate to do this right now but that’s actually the East River of-“

“I don’t care.” You laughed and pulled him into a kiss to shut him up.

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[babydollslibrary]

KARMA— JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

published: February 13th, 2023

summary: in which y/n’s ex-best friend has been gossiping behind y/n’s back saying that Jack should be with her instead, so y/n shows that karma goes both ways.

specific lyrics: “you’re talking shit, for the hell of it. addicted to betrayal.” and “ask me what i learned from all those years. ask me what i earned from all those tears.” and “karma is my boyfriend, karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend, karma’s a relaxing thought”

warnings: toxic friendship mentions, light profanity

GIF by teex

“did you hear about what Carley said last week?” i hear as soon as i sit down in my seat at brunch.

“no.” i shake my head. “what did she say now?”

“she was out with her friends, and Nicole and Jesper were sat by her at the restaurant; overheard her saying that Jack should be with her instead of you. apparently she’s convinced that he’s only pitying you and she deserves him because she’s ‘richer, prettier, and has more followers’.” Ryleigh says. “what a bitch! i can’t believe you were ever friends with her.“

“karma is a bitch, it’ll get to her one day.” i shrug. “she wasn’t much different when we were friends. claimed i ‘stole’ Jack from her because ‘she saw him first’, but he and i had already been dating by the time she saw him. we just hadn’t been public yet.”

“but, you’re literally the sweetest person i’ve ever met. i’m just saying, i don’t understand how you could’ve been friends with her for so long.” Darya chimes in, setting her mimosa down in front of her.

“i was friends with her since we were ten, she’s always been this way. a lot of my tears were from her hand. she insisted she would do things in the name of friendship and ‘bettering me’, but eventually, i learned that she was just a horrible person and i should stop excusing her actions. as i said, karma will get to her eventually.” i explain as i scan the menu in front of me. i know how Carley is. it doesn’t exactly surprise me that she’s talking bad about me, she used to do it even while we were friends.

“well, karma isn’t coming fast enough. that girl needs to be humbled soon.” Ryleigh exclaims and Darya nods in agreement. before i can respond, the waiter comes to take our orders and the subject changes.

**

i’m sat in glass seats at a Devils home game, waiting for them to come out for warmups. i switch between glass seats and the WAGS box every few games. i like hanging out with the girls but, i love to see the smile on Jack’s face when the Devils score. especially when he scores and he gets to look over at me and see that i watched and that i’m cheering for him. it’s not too long before warmups start that someone sits at the end of my row, and i look over to see Carley and one of her friends. i choose to ignore her and the looks i know she’s giving me. i have a right to be here, and she’s allowed to come to a game if she wants, i don’t control that. it’s when the warmups start that i have a problem with her. i’m looking down at my phone, texting Ryleigh when Jack skates by, banging a hand on the glass in front of me to get my attention. i startle, jumping in my seat and dropping my phone, and he laughs.

“hi baby!” i immediately recognize the voice yelling down the row. i look over to see Carley staring straight at Jack as he skates past her. he turns around, skating backwards and giving her a weird look before looking at me with a ‘what the fuck?’ face. i shrug my shoulders. what possessed her to make her think that calling my boyfriend ‘baby’ is okay?

i let the comment roll off my back, it’s whatever. i know that Jack has tons of fans, he’s talented, he’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a total package, i get it.

“score a goal for me tonight, babe!” i hear her call out. that’s when my problem starts. and my anger only increases after warmups, when i overhear her talking to her friend. “eventually, he’s gonna realize how much better he can do than y/n. and i’ll be there with open arms when he does.”

i remind myself to stay in my seat. i’ve turned a blind eye to her glares, i’ve let her gossiping fall on deaf ears instead of making a scene or causing drama, and i know it’ll be worth it in the end. i was raised to remember that karma is a powerful thing, and that it goes both ways. you do bad things, something will knock you down a peg. you do good things, you’ll have good luck. it’s common sense. but apparently she didn’t get the message.

**

“babe, come look at this!” Jack calls to me from our bed. it’s officially the off season and Jack and i have been at the Hughes lake house for the past couple days. it’s been nice being surrounded by his family and even a few of our friends.

“what’s up, love?” i ask, walking out of the closet where i was picking out a cover up to wear out on the boat. i slip the sundress i chose over my head and pull it down over my bikini.

“come see what Bratter just sent me.” i flop myself down on the bed next to him, laying on my side and cuddling into him, an arm wrapping around his torso. he tilts his phone screen towards me and i read the text that Jesper sent him.

—

From: Jesper Bratt

took Nicole out to lunch and she pointed out a girl that she said is obsessed with you. said her name was Carley. heard her talking to someone, saying you guys were destined to be together 😂 even heard her say that y/n isn’t good enough for you? does this girl have nothing better to do?

—

“she really just won’t stop, will she?” my question is rhetorical but Jack answers anyways.

“she’ll get the message soon enough. i don’t want her.” his words make me furrow my brows but i nod anyways. “you ready to head out?”

“yeah, let’s go.” we stand from the bed, making our way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, meeting the others in the living room before heading down to the dock and onto the boat. i sit and watch as all the guys take turns wakesurfing, choosing not to participate and instead enjoying the summer evening air.

“babe! babe, c’mere!” Jack calls from the back of the boat, where he’s currently wakesurfing. i stand, walking over and bending over the back of the boat so i can hear him.

“look at you, superstar!” i chime, grinning at him. he laughs and shakes his head.

“no, i wanted to say that i wanna take you on a walk around the lake when we get back.” i admire his smile for a few moments, just nodding in response and watching his face all lit up with joy. this man makes me so happy.

i keep myself rooted in that spot until he decides he’s done and gets back on the boat, letting Luke take his place. he looks at me with a wicked grin and i know exactly what he’s planning to do, but the boat is only so big and he catches me quite easily. pulling me to him, getting me wet with the cold water dripping from his hair and body. i shiver and let out a squeal; halfheartedly attempting to push him away. i feel my feet lift off the ground as Jack moves over to the bench seats, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap.

“now my cover up is all wet!” i feign a pout, but all he does is laugh, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

“i’ll make it up to you. promise.” he squeezes me tighter to his chest and i shuffle down in order to lay my head on his chest, getting the side of my face wet in the process, but i don’t care. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” i smile, turning my head slightly to lay a kiss on his chest.

*

when we park back at the dock, Jack lets the guys know we’ll be back up to the house soon and pulls his hoodie over his head. he slings one arm around my shoulders, holding me to his side, and sticks his free hand in his hoodie pocket. we continue to walk along the lakeside in silence, just enjoying the last moments of sunset and the sounds of nature. i stop Jack a few times in order to point out pretty birds or various other beautiful nature moments. i let go of him once more, stepping closer to the water and letting him fall behind me.

“Jack, look at the way the sunset is reflecting off the lake! it’s gorgeous.” i turn to look back at him, checking to see i have his attention, but when i catch sight of him, one knee on the ground with a ring box opened in his hands and a watery smile on his face, my hands fly up to my mouth.

“y/n, i texted Quinn right after i met you, telling him i just met the love of my life. at the time, i thought maybe i was over exaggerating, but then i got to know you, and i knew i wasn’t. these past two and a half years with you have been the best of my life, and i was hoping you’ll choose to continue that. y/f/n, will you marry me?” his voice wavers, laced with emotion, and tears spring to my eyes.

“yes. god, yes! a million times yes!” i exclaim and he takes my hand, slipping the ring in my finger as he stands and i pull him into a kiss. my hands hold his face to mine and he grips my hips. pulling away, i wipe the tears from his cheeks and then mine. “i love you so much.”

“i love you so much more, pretty girl.”

—

@itsmey/n just posted

Liked by @_quinnhughes and 26,372 others

@itsmey/n summer nights 🤍

karma is so good to me

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@user1 THEY’RE ENGAGED?! THIS IS SO EXCITING

@_quinnhughes congrats guys! welcome to the family y/n

@itsmey/n thank you huggy!

@user2 OMG!

@jackhughes my forever girl ❤️💍

@itsmey/n so grateful for you

@trevorzegras congrats you two! happy for you guys!

@itsmey/n thank you, z! better clear some time from your summer golfing schedule next year!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[leviraaaaaa]

“Daaa-ddy.”

Levi startles, looking up. The little girl stood before him, all wide eyes and beaming at him.

“Yes? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She shrugs, then thrusts out a hair brush and a set of scrunchies. “Do my hair today!” She grins.

Levi is taken aback slightly, not at all expecting such a request. It’s not that he had a bad relationship with his daughter really, if anything Levi spends every second that he can spare with her. But even so, it was so sudden and specific, not to mention she has never asked him to do it before. It was you who helped her get ready.

“Doesn’t mommy usually do that?” He asks slowly. “Is she busy?”

She shakes her head quickly. “I just want you to do it today.” She smiles, holding the brush out to him, waiting for him to take it.

Levi glances at it then looks back up. How could he say no to that?

So, without a word, he motions her to turn around which she follows happily, pulling a stool nearby to sit between Levi’s legs. Levi takes the brush, though slightly hard to hold without his missing fingers, he manages, combing through the black silky strands.

Like his.

Though, his own hair was stranded with gray now, a sign of the long years he had lived. Even Ackermans don’t stay young forever.

But it’s still so strange to him, having her here, right in front of him. He still freezes a little when she smiles at him, watching her with awe. She looked almost exactly identical to him, starting from the shape of her face to the color of her eyes, just the exact shade of the silvery blue that his own eyes hold. But there was a brightness in those eyes that Levi doesn't think he ever had. She was like this little ball of sunshine, always so bright.

And her smile, that came from you.

She was his. Yours. Theirs.

A part of him and a part of you. A whole other human being. A child. A blessing.

It was the hardest at thr beginning. For him to get used to it. Despite the 9 months of pregnancy, it was when he first held her that the realization finally hit him. That she was his daughter. His.

And the moment his eyes locked with the newborn, he knew he was doomed.

That there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this small, small, absolutely tiny person that came to earth no more than half an hour ago. That he had just met.

It was crazy how it only took him only a moment for him to swear his life for her, to become so protective. It was actually ridiculous, how he felt anxious even when it was the nurses holding her, he’d been so rigid, so poised. Even when handing her over to someone else’s arms, he had his hand outstretched because just in case. It took a shit load of convincing from you for him to let Jean and Connie hold her.

It was crazier watching her grow up. Never had he felt this ridiculous amount of pure joy and excitement ever. Only to hear her first words, to watch her take her first steps, holding his hand. He swears it was only yesterday.

His chain of thought was cut off as she started to happily chatter about things. Unlike Levi, she talks. A lot. Levi doesn’t mind, he listens quietly. Every once in a while, inserting a comment.

“I’ve read about you. In the history books. Our teacher taught us.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, brushing softly. “What’d you learn?”

“They called you humanity’s strongest.” She stumbles on the word a little, which was a bit heavy for her usual vocabulary. She turns around to look at him with awe and wonder, wide eyes asking for confirmation. “That’s so cool!”

He only lets out a small hum in response.

"Will I be as strong as you one day?"

"Sure. You already are." He hopes she never needs to be.

“I saw your picture too. And mommy’s. Also, Uncle Connie used to be bald back then.” She finishes with a giggle, the idea of Connie’s lack of hair amusing her. “You were like a superhero, weren’t you daddy?”

“I wouldn’t shoot that far.” He answers with a small smile.

Back then, Levi had never imagined the idea of having a family. There, caged between the walls, surrounded by those tremendous monsters. When there was no guarantee that you’d come back alive once you’re out there. How could he even think of bringing a child to the world, if he couldn’t even do the least that is to promise their safety?

But now, here she runs and plays outside, without a worry in the world, tirelessly. She doesn’t have to starve like Levi had to, she grows up with only all the good the world has to offer. She doesn’t know the worst of how things could be and Levi hopes she never does. She doesn’t yet understand the role Levi and you had played in creating this world, but she does understand the value of it. She asks questions sometimes, about the wheelchair and the eye and the hand. About your scars and why somedays you can't get yourself from bed. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to answer. And Levi knows, one day, he’ll have to tell her all of it, life back then and the life he had. But for now, he prays, let her grow up with only love and pureness. Let her see the world in her rose colored glasses. Something he never got to do.

She taps Levi’s leg as he bunches the hair to tie a ponytail. “Do braids.” She says.

“Braids? Don’t you always wear a ponytail?” Levi asks.

“Yes, but,” She tries to explain, stumbling for words. “Tash always pulls by it.”

Tash was one of her classmates, Levi knew from her frustrated rants about him. From what he could gather, neither liked each other much. “Next time he bothers you, you do the thing that I taught you.” He tells her.

“The thing with my hands?” She asked brightly, balling her hands to show him.

“Hey, no beating up kids at school. Levi!” You appear in the doorway, only catching the last bit of the conversation. “Don’t give her ideas. And you,” You look at your daughter who was smiling smugly. “I’ve been looking for you–wait, is Levi doing your hair?” You say, finally noticing and very surprised.

‘Yes!” She replies excitedly, “He’s doing braids! He’s very slow though.”

Levi playfully pats her head. “It’s because you keep moving.” He sighs. “Must you need braids? I’m not sure if I can–”

“Yes.”

Levi was about to say something else until she turned around, giving him the most adorable pout ever, eyes all round and needy, her brows pinched together. “Please?” She asks sweetly.

Well damn.

Levi tries, he really tries. But the word no somehow managed to disappear from his vocabulary, along with all of its synonyms. So he sighs, nodding.

“Levi, I can–” You start.

“It’s okay.” He puts up a hand, stopping you. He doesn’t know much about the process, but he’s spent enough time watching you do her hair. So he thinks he can manage it. “I can do it. Probably.” He says uncertainty.

It was slightly difficult to manage multiple sections of hair when you’re missing two fingers, but even surprising himself, he does manage it, after a few attempts. A little uneven, but works.

"Happy?" He asks her, patting her head.

It was good enough for the girl, who jumped up right after it was finished and cheered happily as an answer to Levi. She jumps to his arms, pulling him by the neck to plant a big smooch in his cheek.

“You're the best.” She beams at him, then running off to grab her bag which was by the door.

“Wow, mommy’s nonexistent now?” You fold your arms in mock offense.

She doesn’t answer, only picks up her bag and runs to hug you full speed, wrapping herself around your knees. “I love you.” She calls out, then turns to Levi. “And I love you too! I'm leaving now!”

Then she was out the door before you could say I love you back.

“Don’t run, you’ll fall.” Levi calls out to her, who was already far out of hearing range.

You closed the door. Then leaned against it, staring at Levi.

Levi looked away, cheeks heating up slightly, noticing the strange way you were staring at him, already knowing what comes after.

“So.” You said.

“So, what?” He said, glancing at you.

“Where'd you learn how to do braids?"

He huffs. "From you. I watched you do it.''

"Really?' It was so cute you could melt.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He grunts. “She’s my girl. I can do her hair sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“So, I’m not your girl?” You pout, exactly the same expression your daughter made just moments ago. “How come I don't I get braids?”

“I–” Levi starts, then huffing frustratedly. He can’t even say no to his daughter, who was he to say no to the mother? He tries nevertheless.

“I’m not doing it. Stop looking at me like that.”

You did not look away, pouting out your lips more.

“I won’t.”

You blinked, turning your expression sadder.

Levi gives up.

“C’mere.” He sighs.

[mommyownsmee]

About how I learned to love Brats, Pillow Princess behaviour & the Art of Dominance

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot. Something in the way I think changed.

Every Submissive always talks about being a “good girl”—doing what makes the Dom/me happy, always being obedient and eager to learn. I used to think that is the way it always has to be. Used to. For over ten years as a Domme, I thrived on that concept: A “good girl” has to follow rules and submit without hesitation. For years, I thought that was the pinnacle of submission.

But the thing about power is that it evolves. True power doesn’t stay stagnant—it grows, adapts, and deepens with experience. Over time, I’ve come to realize that submission is more nuanced than a simple checklist of behaviors. It’s raw, alive, and deeply personal. Submission isn’t about perfection. It’s really all about connection.

For years, I believed brattiness in every way always needed to be corrected. To me, it once felt like resistance, a flaw, or a rebellion that threatened the structure of the dynamic. But now, I see it differently. Now, I see it as a form of self-expression. A way for my submissive to show her fire, her confidence, and her trust in me.

Yes, trust. Because it takes trust to push boundaries. It takes trust to tease, to play, and to challenge the person who holds the power. And when my submissive does that—when she smirks and says, “Mommy, I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, aren’t I? Others must have it really hard, not being as perfect as me,” or when she pouts and demands, “Mommy, I want it because I deserve it”—I don’t see rebellion anymore.

I see confidence. I see life. I see a woman who knows her worth and isn’t afraid to own it.

And it’s sexy. Damn sexy.

Bratty behavior doesn’t weaken the dynamic. It strengthens it. It adds layers, complexity, and depth. It turns submission into a dance—a playful, sensual exchange of power where no one is truly in control except for me. And yet, her fire ignites something primal in me. It keeps me sharp, keeps me present, and keeps our connection electric.

Being a Domme for over a decade has taught me that dominance isn’t just about control. It’s about responsibility in a other way than I thought it is. It’s about seeing my submissive for who she is—not just the quiet, obedient girl who kneels perfectly at my feet, but the playful, demanding princess who knows what she deserves and isn’t afraid to say it.

Why should I suppress that part of her? Why should I try to mold her into someone different and docile when her strength and confidence are what make her so captivating?

When she teases me, when she pushes the boundaries, it’s not defiance. It’s trust. She knows I’m strong enough to handle it, to match her energy, to guide her through it without breaking her spirit. That’s the real power of dominance—not in silencing her, but in allowing her to roar, knowing I’ll hold her steady when she’s ready to submit.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to put in the effort sometimes. Of course she does. Submission is a two-way street. There are moments when she needs to kneel, to focus, to give herself fully to me. But those moments don’t need to be constant. Submission isn’t about perfection—it’s about authenticity.

Some nights, she doesn't want to exert any strength. She wants to be my Pillow Princess, indulgent and adored. And why shouldn’t she? Why should she always have to work for my approval when my love for her is unconditional?

I’m the Domme. It’s my responsibility to take care of her.

When she looks at me with that confident sparkle in her eyes and says, “Mommy, I deserve to be treated like the princess I am,” not a single muscle in my face flinches—even though my heart skips a beat every time.

“Oh, is that so, my darling?” I ask, leaning forward, my voice soft but commanding. My thumb brushes over her lower lip, and I lock my gaze on hers. “Then show me how much you deserve it.”

She melts, every time. It’s a game we play, a game of confidence and submission, of power and vulnerability. She knows I’ll always win, but she also knows I love the fire in her eyes when she dares to try.

Her brattiness doesn’t threaten my dominance. It enhances it. It reminds me of why I do this—why I’ve spent over a decade mastering the art of control, not to break someone, but to guide them. To make them feel safe, cherished, and understood.

When I pull her close, kiss her hair, and promise her that she’ll get everything she deserves, it’s not just words. It’s a vow. A vow to build her up, to nurture her, and to remind her every single day that she’s mine.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, she’ll kneel. Not just because I demand it, but because she craves and wants it. Because submission is her gift to me, and my gift to her is the freedom to express it in all its forms—bratty, playful, vulnerable, and fierce.

That’s the beauty of our dynamic. It’s not rigid or predictable. It’s alive, pulsing with energy, passion, and trust. And as her Domme, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For me, there’s nothing more intoxicating than that.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

[thehopefulquotes]

I’ve learned a lot this year. I learned that things don’t always turn our the way you planned, or the way you think they should. And I’ve learned that there are things that go wrong that don’t always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before. I’ve learned that some broken things stay broken, and I’ve learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones, as long as you have people who love you

Jennifer Weiner

[quotefeeling]

I’ve learned a lot this year. I learned that things don’t always turn our the way you planned, or the way you think they should. And I’ve learned that there are things that go wrong that don’t always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before. I’ve learned that some broken things stay broken, and I’ve learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones, as long as you have people who love you

Jennifer Weiner

[paigesbasketball]

Echos of the Fallen

Chapter 1: A ghost in plain sight Shadow the hedgehog x reader Warnings: cursing/slowburn

Failure. Ghosts. Revenge.

If you had asked me to describe my life, those three words would sum it all up. Three words that captured the entire meaning of my existence. I wasn’t alone; I had a trusty team. Sure, I didn’t tell them everything, but I didn’t need to. They trusted me, and I trusted them enough. They were the closest thing I had to family, even if my real family had disappeared. My life took a turn for the worse once they were killed. I was put into foster care, bouncing from home to home… No mobian wanted a sad, broken girl who watched her parents get killed. The last thing my mother told me was to run. I was frozen as I watched a G.U.N. agent take her life.

When I aged out of the system, an old lady took me in and taught me to fight. She said she was too old to have kids, but she was fine with having me. I was quiet, did what I was told, and in return, she taught me how to defend myself. She would always say, “I will never leave a child in a world where they don’t know how to defend themselves.” Years with her taught me a lot. And when she died, I knew much more. She claimed that nobody should know who I really was if I wanted a fresh start. So that’s what I did. I went to a black site and bought a fake name and identity. As far as anyone knew, the old girl was dead—she died in a car crash. My "end" was my beginning. That’s when I found the closest people to my heart today… or what was left of it.

Scar: She's a high-level fighter, not better than me, who was kicked out of the agency for "playing too rough." I loved her from the start. Unless she trusted you, she played by no rules. I saved her from being homeless, so I guess that earned me her trust. Zero: A top-tier hacker who used his talents for the wrong reasons—greed. I don’t blame him; he was in a bad place, and he thought it was his last resort. Too bad the state doesn’t take fraud lightly. He did time, but got out on good behavior after helping the FBI. Once he was out of jail, I took him in. He started seeing me like a mother, and I made a promise to protect him. He was only 17. Viper: She was our supplier. I didn’t know much about her, but she had been jailed, and she knew everyone, though nobody knew her. She helped me out of a tough spot, and I’ve never had a reason to doubt her since. She was like that cool party girl who always knew what to do. Nova: She was our chemist. The weird part was she never went to school. I grew up with her in foster care, and when she expressed how much she loved chemistry, we clicked instantly. But she never went to school... She learned everything on the dark web. Part of me wishes she went to real school to make something of her life, but I knew she didn’t want to be normal. She hated normal. Her mother threw her into foster care because she was "weird." She didn’t like typical girl things, and her mother couldn’t stand it. Good thing we loved her for it.

September 28th, 5:00 PM

“Guys, come on, we’ve got 30 minutes,” I say, irritated. We have a mission to kidnap a G.U.N. agent for information—Carson Palo. A mid-tier lieutenant working for one of the higher-ups at G.U.N. The timing couldn’t be better—during the annual fall ball. G.U.N. hosts this event once a year, desperately trying to gain more money for their corrupt ways.

“Yo, Zero, we on the list?” I ask the finger-typing boy on his computer. He dramatically rolls his eyes.

“An art like this takes time, ladies,” he says with sass.

I roll my eyes. “You know what else doesn’t take long? Getting arrested,” I reply, matching his sass.

“Viper, how are we with G.U.N.?” I ask, turning to the cool-headed supplier.

“Looking good, Capt,” she says immediately.

At the Event

Scar and I make our way further into the event, both using fake names thanks to Zero. We spot our target, but not before I catch the eye of Shadow the Hedgehog. He stares at me, as though he’s never seen me before, and starts questioning the nearest person about my appearance.

I speak into my earpiece. “Girl, I think it’s time to wrap it up. A red-and-black hedgehog won’t stop staring at me. I think he’s getting suspicious,” I say, trying to get out of his line of sight.

Scar responds immediately. “Did you ever think maybe he finds you attractive? Or is growing old with multiple Chaos your thing?” she teases.

I roll my eyes. “First of all, Chaos are adorable, and second, I am not interested in anyone at the moment,” I say, scatter-brained, trying to move out of his view.

“Yeah, um... you trying to run from him isn’t working like you think it is. Just trust me, he’s hot on your tail, and looking hot, dare I say—”

I cut her off, “Get to the damn point.”

“Stop responding and listen. He’ll hear you. Keep walking until I say so.”

I follow her instructions, trying my best to avoid Shadow’s gaze. After a few seconds, Scar continues. “Okay, he’s seriously not giving up. I need you to distract him for, like... hmm... five minutes. Trying to seduce our target is hard, but I think I almost have it. The area you’re in is good. Turn around in three seconds.”

“Get me his name,” I whisper quietly.

I stop, take a deep breath, and turn around to be met with a handsome hedgehog staring back at me. Scar wasn’t lying.

Okay, five minutes. Four minutes, fifty-nine seconds…

“Hi, how may I help you?” I say to the grim hedgehog.

“Who are you? This venue is for G.U.N. agents only, and I haven’t seen you… ever,” he says, staring deeply at me, waiting for me to crack. Sadly for him, he wasn’t going to get that satisfaction.

“Well, I think the reason you haven’t seen me is because I’m new to the office,” I say smoothly.

“Wrong,” Zero’s voice cuts through the earpiece. “You don’t even work at G.U.N. Your persona is Danny’s wife.”

Shit.

“Hmph,” he mutters, looking at my name tag, which conveniently rests near my chest.

Fuck. I’m making Scar buy me an apple pie for this later... Two minutes remaining.

I slap him and raise my voice to draw attention. “YOU PERVERT STARING AT MY BREASTS! WAIT UNTIL I TELL MY HUSBAND ABOUT THIS!” I yell, playing the damsel in distress.

A few men rush to my aid and confront Shadow without even questioning who I am. Idiots... Men always want to be heroes without thinking.

One of the many reasons I prefer Batman over Superman. I wink at Shadow playfully as I make my escape out the back entrance. But a woman stops me.

“Ms., are you okay? Do you need to talk to someone?” she says, concerned.

I quickly form tears in my eyes. “N-no, I just need to be alone right now... T-thank you though. I just feel so violated.”

I rush out the door. It's been five minutes.

“Scar, I just put on a fucking performance. You better be done,” I say with venom.

“Yeah, I’m done. Calm your tits,” she says, letting out a snicker.

As I walk toward the van, I ask, “What’s so funny?”

Zero intercepts. “I don’t know what was worse—watching that ‘performance’ or watching an unscripted telenovela.”

He and Scar burst into laughter as I get into the van.

“Just erase me from the camera footage and shut up,” I say, taking out my earpiece.

“Is he out?” I ask Scar, curious.

“Like a light, thanks to this stuff Nova gave us.”

“Alright, time to do my favorite part. Interrogate.”

Back at G.U.N. (Shadow’s POV)

“Wow, Shadow, when I told you to flirt with a girl, I didn’t mean to violate them,” Sonic says, and Shadow shakes his head, brooding.

“I wasn’t looking at her breasts. I was reading her name tag because something was off about her. Yes, I admit, I initially followed her because I thought she was attractive, but I would never treat a woman like that,” he says, spitting with venom.

Sonic adds, “Ah, I believe you, buddy, but who was she? I’ve never seen her.”

Shadow rolls his eyes while sipping his drink.

“She said she was Danny’s wife.”

Sonic looks at him, confused. “What?”

“I didn’t further pursue after that,” Shadow says.

Sonic’s voice takes on suspicion. “Well, I don’t think Danny would care, considering he doesn’t have a wife.”

I nearly spit out my drink.

“WHAT!? Then who the hell was she, and how did she get past security?” I ask, confused.

“Well, wanna find out, buddy?” Sonic says with a grin. “An adventure with my buddy Shadow the Hedgehog sounds fun.” I scoff at the blue blurs enthusiasm.

All I cared about was one thing: Who the hell was that girl?

[thoughtkick]

I’ve learned a lot this year. I learned that things don’t always turn our the way you planned, or the way you think they should. And I’ve learned that there are things that go wrong that don’t always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before. I’ve learned that some broken things stay broken, and I’ve learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones, as long as you have people who love you

Jennifer Weiner

[angelicbeaut]

Decide.

I remember when I started my journey learning of myself and my power, I was very insecure in my ability, which by the way is totally normal. It didn’t seem natural for me to just decide what I wanted and have it, it seemed too easy, because a lot of us did not grow up having things so easily so there can be some resistance within us to accept our desires. Again, normal.

However, we have to understand that there are infinite realities, infinite scenarios, infinite lives that we can live. It doesn’t have to come with emotion, it doesn’t even have to feel real at first, but you yourself have the power to choose who you will be. That is the point of life, and if you have discovered this, congrats you have won.

There are many things I have decided over the years. At one point in life I decided I was ugly, and I experienced nothing but that. However the lovely part about deciding is that you can always change your mind. As of now, I have made several decisions that have completely altered my life:

I decided my mom was going to mom into a new house in a wealthy neighborhood by a park I grew up going to but could never afford to live close by to. She called me last week and told me about a house, in the wealthy neighborhood, by the exact park that she is buying this month.

I decided that I was beautiful, and that every person I like is obsessed with me and from that point forward I have randomly manifested love interests I haven’t even spoken to in years calling me wanting a chance, flowers, dates, compliments, secret admirers, and more.

I decided when I was around 16 that I was going to be a rich housewife. Now this is more of a in the future thing, but I have no doubt I will live that life because I have decided. I can see it so clearly in my mind that I have quite frankly already been there, and I know it to be true. So much so that everyone in my life has told me they don’t see me in any other type of relationship when I get married except one of that nature. Right now I’m preoccupied with just being a girl, but again, I KNOW it is going to happen, and my life is aligning every second of the day for me to get exactly what I want.

I decided in high school that no matter what happened during the year, I never ended with less than a B. missing assignments, things turned in late, missing class, whatever it was, didn’t matter and doesn’t matter, and to this day, I have never received less than a B, even in college. It’s something I’ve always believed and it’s never failed me.

These are just a few things, but most importantly, once you decide. STAY STEADFAST IN YOUR DECISION. You need to understand that things are always happening, things are shifting every second in your favor when you hold on to your belief. They quite literally have no choice. EVERYTHING IS YOU, EVERYTHING MOVES ACCORDING TO YOU!

If you decide you can’t manifest, you won’t. If you decide this is fake, it has no choice but to be fake. You will forever be stuck in a loop unless YOU choose otherwise.

So sweets, what’re you going to decide today?

luv, che 🌷

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve. 

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?” 

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.” 

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands. 

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue. 

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her. 

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-” 

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles. 

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for. 

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?” 

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA. 

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while. 

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.” 

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her. 

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.” 

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face. 

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.” 

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too. 

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them. 

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.” 

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them. 

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.” 

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now. 

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time. 

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them. 

Jealousy. Longing. Needing. 

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person. 

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath. 

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes. 

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.” 

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.” 

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him. 

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head. 

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat. 

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side. 

“So…should we practice?”

���Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.” 

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima. 

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’ 

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood. 

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty. 

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely. 

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor.  “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.” 

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.” 

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life. 

The Paris Opera Ballet

[writing-mlm]

Reddit Discovers a Relationship

Summary: Peter is acting strangely following a trip to Asgard and you, naturally, take to Reddit to get opinions from absolute strangers Pairing: Peter Parker x Gn!Reader Wc: 2k tags: readers gender is up to the viewer, mentions of cheating but nothing happens, reader is the adoptive child of Loki, this is formatted like a Reddit post LOL a/n: this came to me in a dream

r/AmItheAsshole 4d ago

throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis

AITA for being upset with my bf for being weird after we visited my family abroad?

Hii! Sorry if formatting and spelling is wrong, I’m on mobile. 

So, I (20nb) and my boyfriend (21m) met when we were both around 15, dating since we were 17. If it matters we met through my (adoptive) uncle: they sort of worked together but in the way that you work with Jane from Accounting. It’s a relatively small business so we did eventually cross paths, I don’t want to go into details for privacy's sake, sorry. If it’s confusing I’ll explain in an edit. 

EDIT: basically he’s the bosses intern-turned-employee, I’m the weird guy's brother's kid turned employee. He joined at 15, I ‘joined’ at 13, i’ve been there two years longer than him

So, recently I went to visit my dad in our home country for two weeks with my uncle and his maybe gf, naturally my bf, wanted to join. He wasn’t allowed to at first bc the last time we tried something similar to this he kind of died?? I’m not sure if the event is still triggering for people, but it was that global event where the population got… sanded?? EDIT: yes the blimp But after that I get nervous with him traveling around there, I know it’s not normal and he would be perfectly fine. It took a while but I eventually agreed that he could go. 

We get there without any hiccups and he sees my country for the first time, i literally have to drag him into my childhood home and let him set up a room. My dad wouldn’t let us sleep in the same room, he went to crazy lengths for that lol. But that was fine, it was only two weeks. Really a week and half. But we have a good time, he meets my old friends, I taught him some traditional cooking and such, we explored for a whole day. I literally took him flower picking and they're in our living room. He spends some time with my folks, some of which I was too busy for, my friends had dragged me out and one time no one woke me up. The last day we spent I literally did not see him at all, like at all. And one of my friends, I’ll call her Vivi, was gone too even though we all said we’d have a group picnic in the garden. 

Eventually, we leave back and he’s just… I don’t want to say ignoring me but he’s definitely distant. He’s hiding his phone (not that I check it, it’s just he got a screen blocker thing, he’s leaving it face down, and in the car, he stops all the notifications from coming through the speakers), he’s all sweaty around me, genuinely will not talk about the trip, he keeps asking if I’ve kept in touch with my friends and what they’ve said. 

Prior to this. he’d literally shove his phone in my face to show me videos or text his aunt if his hands are busy. I’ve heard his text messages between him and his friends where they talk about embarrassing topics like him peeing his pants bc he was drunk. He’s also not one to really sweat, he’s nervous a lot but it’s never like this. 

At work he’s asking to be paired with other people and my uncle keeps staring at him?? they talk in the corner a lot and my uncle cannot whisper for the life of him but he suddenly learned. 

I spoke to one of my friends, not the childhood friends but ones I made here, and they think he’s cheating. Idk, we’re never really apart for him to. We live and work together. We commute together. Our friend groups overlap a whole bunch to the point where I only have two friends that aren’t his friends and the same with him. The same friend said he’s always been off, she just never said anything bc I really like him. I’m cutting her off because even if she is right, that’s a weird thing to harbor right?? like if my friend had a shady bf I’d definitely let them know when I felt that. But maybe that’s an American thing, I don’t know. 

I asked him about it, I think three times. Each time he gets more nervous and I’ve decided I’m going to be the same way. His boss, who’s really just like a weird older brother or something to me, says I’m being petty and we need to grow up and talk. His wife says she did the same thing to him and the issue ended up being that he was going through major heart problems and she still feels bad about that. But i don’t think he’s having heart issues, our jobs need regular medical checkups and he’s his same healthy self. 

Am I going crazy? Should I ask again?

EDIT: he’s 21 and I’m 20 but we met when we were both 15 bc his birthday is earlier than mine is

——

WNDRGRL639 • 3d ago

NTA, i’m sorry sweets but it does sound like he cheated. That day where he was gone with ViVi for the whole day is suspicious, have you talked to her to see what she was doing?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

Communication with people back home is difficult. They’re kind of the send a bird to deliver mail type, I can only talk to my dad when he’s in this specific area bc it has signal. It’s a portable device from over here. I don’t want to ask him to ask her because everyone is kind of… fearful of my dad but I don’t think she would do that. 

—> Holding_Space

why don’t you think she would?? also NTA 

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

bc she’s only into women, sorry I forgot to add that detail I was in a rush 

JoyfulCalling629 • 4d ago

NTA, it’s frustrating when a partner doesn’t say what’s on their mind but give it time. could it have been something your uncle and dad said? are they too protective?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

I wouldn’t put it past my dad but my uncle absolutely adores my bf, like even if we weren’t dating they’d still have the same relationship lol. but from what I noticed my dad does like my bf, he just comes off as scary to basically everyone 

—> Daylighthatings

NTA but it sounds like your bf wants to propose!! my wife was the same way leading up to the proposal 

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

hmm. We’ve spoken about marriage for sure, so I know it’s something on his mind. I’m going to hope it’s that and not any of these crazy ideas lol. I saw someone say he’s planning on leaving me for my dad, that he’s cheating with my uncle, that i’ve probably scared him off bc my country must be scary. 

——> Daylighthatings

aw it’s certainly none of those, i’ve read through your other replies and the two of you seem absolutely smitten

fhendnsn79 • 2d ago

YTA, he probably gotten scared by your dad. keeping the two of you separate for two weeks? he has issues. not to mention you kept bringing up him dying! i’d want to break up too probably call the cops too

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

trust me when I say this, I have your address and I’m sending the IRS bc you have unfiled taxes since 2010 good luck in prison!!!!

—-

r/confessions 2d ago

u/spiderman

I asked my partners dad for the family ring and I’m planning to propose but they think I’m cheating on them 

Hii! First time posting, sorry if the formatting is wonky I’m on my phone. Throwaway bc my partner knows my main

Okay, so I (21m) and my partner (20nb), have been together for around 3 years and I knew I wanted to propose to them after they agreed to binge watch all of Star Trek with me even though they hate (and I mean HATE) most alien media because it’s inaccurate. They ended up enjoying it, but that’s not the point. 

Recently we visited their dad, after a lot of pestering they agreed to let me go and I was super nervous. It wasn’t my first time meeting their dad, maybe the third time but I was about to ask a man who could kill me in a second if I could get his family ring so I could marry his only child. I tried to tire them out, meeting with friends, taking me across a lot and I mean a lot of hills and such so I could also talk to their best friend alone. I’ll call her Ivvi. So, I didn’t have a lot of time and unfortunately had to spend the last day of the trip with Ivvi and their dad talking about traditional wedding stuff and how to properly propose (i didn’t even know there was a wrong way!!!) 

So, with all those expectations I’m super nervous. I have to hide my phone bc their uncle is sending me texts about it and he absolutely does not know how to speak in code. my aunt is the same way and I Don't want them to ruin it. I’m also so close to just blurting out the question so (we work at the same place) I’ve been avoiding them. Their uncle keeps pulling me away to ask when and it’s making me so nervous I can’t even think straight around them anymore. 

They’re starting to notice, not start they BEEN noticing but now they’re giving me the cold shoulder. I know this one friend they have, not Ivvi, it’s this one friend they met during college who I CANNOT stand bc she’s fake. They can’t see it because they tend to take things at face value when it comes to Americans because they think we don’t like to lie. I’ve been trying to tell them that it’s not true. But yeah. That friend spoke to one of my friends who asked me if I cheated and i, of course said no, and spilled my whole plan to her because if anyone could help, it would def be her. 

But I know that friend planted some evil seed in my partners head and now I have to rush my plans. 

I’ll update this after I propose tho!!!!

—

DjMightyThor • 2d ago

I just checked… this is Spiderman’s official Reddit. 

Xsavior • 2d ago

SPIDERMAN IS PROPOSING TO NORIDC???

MegannnHorsie • 1d ago

didn’t know they were that serious wow

Spideyfan4EVA • 2d ago

does he know he posted this to his main hopefully Nordic doesn’t see this LMFAOOO

—

r/BestofRedditorUpdates • 1 hr. ago

u/TonyStark

Clearly, I am not Nordic or Spiderman but they’re both too embarrassed to update. You’re welcome. 

Original post- Nordic

Original post- Spiderman

Thought I should update the people of Reddit on the kids proposal plans. I was unfortunately not there but I was fortunate enough to hack into the cameras in their apartment to see it. So, I’ll give a sort of play by play. 

Spiderman, in the living room with the place decorated in Asgardian stuff, rose petals everywhere and their favorite song in the background. He’s typing the Reddit story because he’s so nervous. 

Nordic, coming back from hanging with their friends, enters the apartment. Spiderman posts it without double checking ANYTHING. Chucks his phone into the kitchen sink somehow. 

Nordic walks inside and looks at the sink before looking at Spiderman. Ugly cries, a lot of tears. Like a lot. I asked (got permission to post) and apparently some of the items were from their since deceased family, so it was extra emotional. Spiderman, in full fucking Asgardian, asks Nordic to marry them. Oh it’s snotty tears now. Idk wtf he said, and Thor won’t translate, so…

There’s two rings!! The royal one and one from Nordic’s blood family. They kiss and fireworks!!! Joking, that’s a fire hazard. But he does immediately call Thor, who was in the room with Sam. I heard the tears from my office. They hang up and I’ll cut the rest of the footage bc I do not want to bleach my eyes thank you. 

—

spiderman • 1 hr. ago

MR STARK YOU DIDNT NEED TO PUT THE LAST PART 

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis 

or any of this actually why are you in our cameras??

—> TonyStark  I made them.

[rylem33]

My Dinner with Andrea

Outside the entrance of the upscale restaurant, Natalie glanced nervously at Ethan. “Are you sure your mom really wants me here tonight? I mean, she barely tolerates me on a good day.”

Ethan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know she can be intense, but trust me, Nat. She means well. She’s just… picky.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I think she’ll come around eventually.”

Natalie forced a smile. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot. We’ll make the best of it.”

They took a deep breath together before entering the restaurant.

Inside, Andrea was already seated at an elegantly set table. She rose, greeting them with a firm hug for Ethan and a polite nod for Natalie.

“Ethan,” she said, a faint hint of warmth in her tone, “could you be a dear and check on our reservation for next week? I want to make sure everything’s set.”

“Of course, Mom.” Ethan smiled, then turned to Natalie, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before walking away.

Once they were alone, Andrea turned her gaze to Natalie, her eyes narrowing appraisingly. “Natalie,” she said softly, her fingers reaching into her bag to produce a small box. “I thought this might suit you.”

She opened the box to reveal an ornate, antique necklace, its gold chain gleaming in the light. “It’s a family piece,” she continued with a cool smile. “I think it might bring out your best qualities.”

Surprised by the gift, Natalie hesitated before taking it. “Thank you,” she murmured, clasping it around her neck. As soon as the necklace settled against her skin, she felt a warm sensation spread over her.

Ethan returned moments later and they settled in at the table. Andrea folded her hands primly, her gaze drifting between the two of them.

“So, Natalie,” she began, her voice measured. “How are things at work? Ethan mentioned you’re in marketing. What is it you do again?”

Natalie straightened, trying not to let her nerves show. “Yes, I work on social media campaigns. Mostly planning and tracking how they perform.”

Andrea gave a polite nod, her eyes flicking briefly to Ethan as if to gauge his reaction. “Interesting. And how long have you been with your company?”

“About three years now,” Natalie said, feeling herself relax slightly. “I’ve learned a lot since I started.”

Andrea tilted her head. “Three years. That’s a good amount of time. And I imagine there are opportunities for growth?” Her voice held a faint edge, and Natalie couldn’t tell if she was genuinely interested or subtly prodding.

“Oh, definitely,” Natalie replied, smiling with more confidence. “There’s a lot of room to move up, and I’m excited about it. I’ve been setting goals, and I’m determined to make a real impact.”

“Haven’t you?” Andrea replied, her eyebrow lifting slightly as she studied Natalie’s expression. “Planning ahead is one thing, but sometimes it’s more practical to focus on family, don’t you think?”

Natalie hesitated, thrown off by the unexpected remark, and glanced at Ethan for reassurance, though he was adjusting his napkin, only half-listening. “Of course,” she replied quickly, “but it’s always been important to me to have something of my own. I really enjoy working toward something meaningful.”

Andrea’s polite smile remained cool, her gaze unwavering. “I see. That’s… admirable,” she said, taking a sip of her water. She turned to Ethan, smiling faintly. “Ethan, you’ve always known what’s important. Being a provider. Right?”

Ethan gave Natalie a soft smile. “Mom.” He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Natalie’s. “I think everyone has their own path. I respect Natalie and her goals.”

“Indeed.” Andrea’s gaze drifted back to Natalie, her fingers tapping lightly against her glass. “And what about outside of work, Natalie? Do you stay active?”

Natalie blinked, sensing the appraisal in the question. “Oh, well… I try to go on walks,” she said, realizing too late how it might sound next to the poised, immaculate woman across from her. But suddenly, an image flooded her mind. She was jogging through a scenic park, her toned muscles working as she powered up a hill. She wore sleek, high-end workout gear that fit her perfectly, and heads turned as she passed.

She blinked, momentarily disoriented, then recovered and smiled. “Actually, I’ve been really focused on fitness lately,” she replied smoothly. “It’s really important to stay in shape. I make it a priority every day.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows, a puzzled look crossing his face. “Wait… when did this happen? I mean, I didn’t even know you liked running, let alone did it regularly.”

“Oh, I make the time,” Natalie replied, her voice more confident than she’d expected. “It’s important to look and feel your best.” Her arms appeared more toned, her frame subtly more athletic. She felt a thrill as she noticed Andrea giving her an approving nod.

Ethan looked between Andrea and Natalie, frowning slightly. “But I’ve… never seen you go running, Nat. Not even once.”

Natalie shrugged, her confidence growing. “Well, maybe you just didn’t notice.” She shot him a smirk.

“Well,” Andrea said, “it shows that you have discipline, Natalie.” Andrea continued to query, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And how do you spend your free time, Natalie? What do you do for fun?”

“Oh, um…” Natalie hesitated, caught off-guard by the direct question. “I mean, I usually enjoy reading, watching movies, spending time with friends.” She shifted uncomfortably, realizing as she spoke how plain it all sounded.

Andrea’s gaze sharpened, her tone neutral. “Friends,” she echoed. “Yes, a social life is important. But I assume you get out more than that?”

Natalie’s mind blurred, and suddenly, a memory burst to life in her mind. She was at a lively club, dressed in a sleek black dress, laughing loudly as she moved through the crowd. The music thrummed around her, and she could feel eyes following her as she danced confidently, drink in hand, commanding attention with her energy and laughter. She wasn’t just out for the night—she was there to be seen, to revel in the spotlight.

The memory faded, leaving Natalie with a thrill of exhilaration. “Actually,” she replied, her voice a little louder and more energetic, “I’ve been going out a lot lately! Drinks, clubs… just enjoying life, you know?” She leaned back, a wide smile on her face.

Ethan blinked, clearly taken aback. “Wait… clubbing? Since when?”

Natalie shrugged, her smirk widening as she brushed off his question. “Oh, Ethan, I’ve just been having fun,” she said, her tone almost playful. She noticed the pleased glint in Andrea’s eyes and leaned back, basking in the attention, feeling a strange satisfaction in her new, bolder self.

“Well,” Andrea said, “it’s certainly important to enjoy life and have an active social life.” She paused, her gaze thoughtful before continuing, “And tell me, Natalie, where do you see yourself in five years?”

Natalie was about to talk about her career goals, her plans to move up in her field and make a name for herself. Her work had always meant a lot to her. But before she could speak, another vivid image took hold. She was in a luxurious home, her time devoted to attending elegant events and looking picture-perfect on Ethan’s arm. Career ambitions were left far behind, replaced by a refined, effortless lifestyle focused entirely on supporting Ethan.

The image faded, and she felt a strange contentment at the thought of not working, of just being there for Ethan. “Actually,” she said, her voice softer, almost dreamlike, “I’ve realized that career ambition isn’t everything. I think I’d rather just… focus on supporting Ethan.” The words came out easily, and for the first time, the idea of letting go of her own ambitions felt right, even exciting.

Ethan leaned forward, his face a mixture of surprise and confusion. “Wait… Nat, since when? You’ve always cared about work, about building something on your own.”

“Oh, Ethan,” she replied with a light laugh, waving him off with a simple, dismissive smile. “I just think it’s time to focus on being a good girlfriend…. and, you know, maybe having a family someday.” Her voice had taken on a softer, simpler tone. A serene smile settled over her face.

Andrea’s smile widened, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Exactly, Natalie. Those are the qualities that last. Isn’t that what you want in a partner, Ethan?”

Ethan glanced between the two of them, looking more unsettled than ever. “I mean… sure, but…” His voice was tense, uncertain as he looked at Natalie.

Natalie giggled lightly, her words flowing out easily and without a hint of her previous ambition. “Oh, Ethan, there’s nothing wrong with simplifying things! It’s all about what really matters, right?” She flashed a soft smile as Andrea watched her approvingly.

Andrea’s gaze settled on the necklace at Natalie’s throat, her eyes gleaming. “Natalie, tell me, have you ever thought about refining your style? Presentation can mean everything.”

As she listened, Natalie felt another warm pulse from the necklace, and an image overtook her mind. She was browsing a designer boutique, her fingers gliding over luxurious fabrics. She could see herself in the mirror wearing the latest trends, entirely focused on looking good….no, looking hot.

“Yes,” Natalie murmured, her tone soft but cheerful. “I think quality is, like, super important. You know? It’s all about looking… amazing.” She glanced down, a delighted smile spreading over her face as she noticed how her dress now hugged her frame perfectly, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that made her waist look tiny and her figure even more striking. She gave a little giggle, feeling pleased as she noticed Ethan’s gaze lingering on her and catching Andrea’s approving nod.

Ethan’s confusion deepened as he took in her sudden transformation. “Nat… are you okay?”

“Oh, Ethan,” she replied lightly, giving a little laugh as she dismissed his question with a casual wave. “I’m just, like… great!” She glanced over at Andrea, who gave her an approving nod. Feeling a pleasant warmth at the silent approval, she flashed a wide smile, entirely pleased with herself.

Ethan’s growing confusion shifted to suspicion as he looked between Andrea and Natalie, his gaze settling on the necklace, its delicate chain glinting in the low light. “Natalie… where did you get that necklace?”

“Oh, this?” Natalie touched it with an innocent giggle, her fingers lightly tracing the necklace as a warm hum pulsed against her skin. “Your mom gave it to me!” she replied with a wide, cheerful smile. “She said it would bring out my best qualities.”

Ethan’s face paled, his mouth opening slightly as he turned to Andrea, a flash of anger in his eyes. “Mom… you… you gave her that?” His voice was thick with alarm.

Andrea’s smile remained perfectly calm, her satisfaction barely concealed. “Yes, Ethan. I thought it was time. Natalie deserves to reach her full potential, don’t you think?”

Ethan turned back to Natalie, frustration and alarm flashing in his eyes.

“Don’t try to fight it, Ethan,” Andrea continued. “The changes can’t be reversed.”

Natalie only tilted her head with a blank, cheerful smile, her voice light and sing-song. “Oh, Ethan. Are you upset? I like being your girlfriend. I can, like, be supportive and stuff.” She giggled, the sound bright and carefree. Her ambitions, once so important to her, seemed like distant memories now, replaced by a calm that felt perfectly right.

Ethan clenched his jaw, his voice thick with frustration as he struggled to hold on to his anger. “Mom, you’ve made her into someone else… someone you want her to be.”

Andrea placed a gentle hand on his arm, her voice smooth and assured. “Ethan, this is exactly what you need, a woman who values simplicity and devotion. Someone who will support you without all those complicated ambitions.”

Ethan looked back at Natalie, her features soft and sweet, her giggles almost childlike as she smiled up at him. She seemed so different, yet wholly pleased with who she’d become. Ethan’s anger slowly dissolved into reluctant acceptance.

With a sigh, he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right, Mom. You always are.”

[perfectfeelings]

I’ve learned a lot this year. I learned that things don’t always turn our the way you planned, or the way you think they should. And I’ve learned that there are things that go wrong that don’t always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before. I’ve learned that some broken things stay broken, and I’ve learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones, as long as you have people who love you

Jennifer Weiner