my grandma used to recite the saying "is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all?" and every time my answer would be that i would have rather not loved at all.
she would smile then, and say "then you did not love". i didn't understand what she meant. of course i had loved. i had a broken heart, didn't i? i had the scar to prove it, the inability to eat. i had loved and wished i hadn't. i loved, i thought.
and then i met you, and i fell in love and then i lost you and now i understand because i would feel this pain over and over again just to love you for five extra minutes. i would fix my heart and hand it back to you without hesitation. "look! it's all better now! you can try again" i would tell you, i would cry it out hysterically while waving my taped heart in the air. i would love you a million times knowing i would lose you and i would not care as long as i got to do it. i have loved. i have loved so completely.
"I would kill for you. I would die for you" would you take a break for me? Would you sit down and rest? For a day, a week, a year? Would you let others take care of your needs for me? Would you let yourself be held for me? By me?
chris pine keeps giving person who did all the work in a group project and is watching the rest of the members stumble through the presentation energy throughout dwd promo
omgg what ab dad!peter getting a call from his 4 yr old daughterās school and sheās crying bc she had a bad day and asking for him to pick her up and he does & they just like hang for the rest of the day š„ŗš„ŗ
our spot
warnings: teeny tiny angsty moments but the fluff cancels them out
a/n: let me offer the sincerest of apologies for taking forever on this omg iāve been madly in love with dad!peter lately so i wanted to spend a little time with him and make sure i got him right :,) i hope you enjoy nevertheless xo
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peter is perched atop the roof of a multistory building, one thatās tall enough to survey the area heās currently patrolling. thereās a warm breeze blowing, and the sun shines brightly above him.
he loves it up here. this spot is his go-to hangout, has been ever since he started sticking to walls. itās the perfect place because even though heās alone, he isnāt lonely. heās right at the center of it all.
a smile playing on his lips, peter reaches to take off his mask and take in the fresh air.
thenā¦
āincoming call from willow,ā karen announces.
peterās smile widens into a full grin as a picture of yours and his daughter pops up.
youād recently given her one of those ladybug phones with both your numbers programmed into it, only itās a spider-man phone instead.
itās not as subtle as you wouldāve preferred. that was what you got for letting peter design it, though.
willow is only supposed to call if thereās an emergency, but she tends not to follow the rules you lay out for her.
she is her fatherās daughter.
āanswer, kar,ā peter approves, crouching down on the ledge of the roof.
a mere second later, willow is babbling into the microphone.
ādaddy? are you there?ā
sheās quiet. thatās out of the norm for her.
peter chalks it up to her sneaking her phone during school. sheās in recess, at the moment.
āhi, wills,ā he grins to himself. āwhatās up, honey? your dayās going good?ā
the line falls silent, so silent that peter can hear willowās heart thumping fast in her chest. itās accompanied by faint sniffling and children shouting to one another in the background.
his fatherly and spiderly instincts tell him something is wrong.
āwillow?ā peter speaks calmly, despite his concern thatās quickly growing. āheyā¦ hey, itās me,ā he coos, tears flowing down her cheeks.
ātalk to me, wills. whatās going on?ā
peter fears the worst, as he always does. heās protective over each of his loved ones. none so much as willow, however. sheās his little girl. he does everything in his power and beyond to keep her safe and happy, which in turn has made him a bit of a helicopter parent.
the teasing peter endures from you and willow herself is worth it if it means your bundle of joy stays out of harmās way.
although, heās not so sure she is.
peter hops to his feet, his stance strong as each individual hair on his arms rises.
is she hurt? is she sick? is she at the very least okay?
āi- i-ā willow stammers out, peterās own heart racing. āplease talk to me, willow. you gotta talk to me,ā he coaxes her, reloading his web cartridges in case he has to use them. āhelp me help you.ā
willowās breathing is ragged, more like sheās gasping for air.
peter is about to haul himself off the rooftop to get to her until she finally spits it out.
āi wanna go home,ā willow whimpers, much to his relief that thatās it.
his eyes fluttering closed, he gulps back the pool of saliva that gathered in his mouth.
āyou wanna go home,ā peter repeats. the tension simultaneously leaves his body. āhow come, wills? you feeling alright?ā he checks with her, beginning to list off possible ailments. āgot any ouchies? a tummy ache? itchy throat?ā
āi donāt feel like talking about it,ā willow firmly informs him.
you and peter had recently taught her about setting boundaries, including with the two of you. so, he has to respect her decision.
āi understand,ā peter concedes. āiāll swing over after you finish up recess, okay?ā
āno!ā willow instantly counters, peterās brows knitting together. recess is usually her favorite part of the day. ācome now. i wanna go home, now,ā she reiterates, words sounding desperate.
āok, honey. you go on inside, and iām gonna meet you there,ā peter concludes with a frown.
āthank you, daddy. i love you,ā willow whispers. his fingers curl back towards his webshooters. āi love you, wills. see you in a fewā¦ karen, end call,ā peter murmurs, outstretching his arm to shoot a web.
he leaps down from the rooftop so he can swing from building to building. heāll contact willowās school after you, figuring he should fill you in on everything beforehand.
ācall y/n,ā peter requests from karen, lips forming a line while he listens to the dial tone.
you pick up with your voice hushed and phone clutched tightly to your ear.
āwhat is it, pete? iām in a meeting,ā you remind your husband.
youāre a full-time working woman and a full-time mother, which peter admires the hell out of.
ācrap, i forgot,ā peter chuckles. āhowās that going, by the way?ā a small smile graces your features. ānot too bad, ātil you interrupted it,ā you chastise. peter internally cringes. āsorry, babe. thereās justā¦ i gotta tell you something.ā
āi hate to rush you off, but iāve got a room full of people waiting on me,ā you laugh out, waving at your employees from outside of the room. āletās get right to it. on a scale from one to ten, what level of emergency are we talking?ā
āitās not an emergency for once,ā peter retorts, then corrects himself. ānot per se.ā that piques your curiosity. āwhat do you mean?ā
he swooshes his way down an avenue and flings another web from his wrist.
āitās, um, itās willow. she wanted me to pick her up early, so iām on my way to the school,ā he explains. āi thought iād give you a heads up. sorry again about your meeting.ā
āno, itās okay. itās willow,ā you echo him. āshe comes before a damn nine-to-five, pete.ā
peter lets out a laugh, glad youāre both on the same page. you two really are the dream team.
āwell, thanks for telling me. what happened exactly?ā you wonder with a sympathetic shake of your head. peter shrugs his shoulders, at a loss. āthatās what iāve been trying to find out. she wasnāt up to talking about it.ā
ādonāt push her. sheāll share when sheās ready to, yeah?ā you offer your sentiment. āyeah, but patience isnāt really my thing,ā peter grumbles, nearing willowās school.
although sheās only just started her first year of elementary, he has the route there memorized.
āiām aware, peter. it isnāt willowās either, so you wonāt be kept in suspense too long,ā you reassure him, lightheartedly rolling your eyes.
your coworker points to his watch, signaling for you to wrap it up.
āi have to go,ā you sigh. āgood luck, and let me know how sheās doing soon.ā
āi will,ā peter agrees. āgood luck to you, too. love you, y/n/n.ā you beam to yourself. ālove you more, bye!ā
heād fight you on that, had you not already hung up.
peter quickly rings willowās school, then ducks behind a parked bus on the side of the street to change. he shimmies out of his spider-man suit and into a non-suspecting business suit.
he shakes out the navy blue blazer and uses his fingers to comb his messy curls, followed by him jogging up the stairs to the school.
heās perked up a bit as he waltzes through the double doors, trekking down the hall to the main office.
chatting with you made him feel so much better. you just have a sort of soothing effect on him.
peter finally steps inside the main office, where willow is slumped over in a cushioned chair. she springs up immediately upon noticing his presence, rushing over to him with tear stained cheeks and her backpack flopping on her shoulders.
he crouches to the floor so heās at her level and envelopes his daughter in a much needed hug. willow tucks her face into the crook of his neck, her tiny hands clutching at the material of his blazer. her sobs sound throughout the room.
āaw, wills,ā peter exhales, bringing her to his chest. āmy love.ā
itās crushing him that willow is hurting, and he canāt do anything about it because heās not sure why.
he kisses the top of her head and lets his lips linger on her scalp. one of the office aids sends him a sad smile.
āhome,ā willow whines against his neck. āi wanna go home.ā
peter lifts her into his arms carefully, hers winding around him on instinct.
āwe are, lovey. letās just get you signed out, alright?ā he receives a timid nod from willow in response, carrying her over to the front desk.
the same aid slides him a clipboard with an attendance sheet that peter scribbles his signature on. he mutters his thanks to the woman before turning to leave, willow remaining nestled into him.
she only peeks out of his neck once the two of them have left the school. her eyes are puffy, lips pouted. peter rubs circles on her upper back as they descend down the stairs.
he wishes there was something he could do to cheer her up, anything at all.
what would he do to cheer himself up?
thatās when it hits him.
āmind if we take a detour on the way home? itāll be quick,ā peter prompts willow, earning a groan from her. āthatās what you always say,ā she sasses. he snickers at that.
sheās slowly but surely returning to herself.
āi mean it, little miss. i think youāll like it, too. what do you say?ā peter questions again. heās stopped on the sidewalk to hold for willowās answer. āi sayā¦ okay,ā she gives in, giggling as peter tickles her sides lightly.
the pair of them venture off to the mystery location, willow eventually choosing to walk beside peter with her hand in his. a few blocks and way too many flights of stairs later, they arrive.
peter would have swung her here, but he doubted youād have approved of that.
ādaddy,ā willow tugs peterās hand, peering up at him. āwhere are we?ā
he gives her a short tour of the area, leading her towards the edge of the rooftop.
itās the same one he was on earlier.
āthis is my spot,ā peter elaborates, his thumb smoothing over each of willowās knuckles. āi come up here whenever iām sad, or overwhelmedā¦ā he raises an eyebrow at her. ābig word. you know what it means?ā
willow nods proudly, which doesnāt surprise him. the brains run in the family.
āsometimes, i come up here just ācuz,ā peter continues. āitās nice, huh? good place to clear your mind. the viewās not bad either.ā
willow creeps onto her tiptoes to see the city below them.
āitās pretty,ā she points out at the horizon. grinning, peter follows her finger. āvery.ā
he lowers himself to the ground, patting the spot next to him for willow to sit. she does so with caution, scooting in close to peter. her teeth chatter as a gust of wind suddenly brushes over the two of them, peter amused by her reaction.
ācold?ā he smirks. willow shivers, shooting him a look. āduh.ā
peter slips out of his blazer, willow ditching her backpack before he drapes it over her shoulders. it practically swallows her whole, which is absolutely adorable to peter.
his arm wraps comfortably around her middle, willow settling into him.
āyou get sad, too?ā she pipes up after a moment. peter stares at the blue sky rather reflectively. āeveryone does, my love. itās okay.ā
peterās gaze shifts to willow, whoās gnawing at the inside of her cheek.
āwhy are you sad, wills?ā he asks softly, willow hiding her hands in the sleeves of his blazer. ābecause,ā she simply replies. peter nudges her side. ābecause why?ā
he remembers what you said about not pushing her, but sheās so close. itās on the tip of her tongue. with a little encouragement, he can get it out of her.
willow cowers away from him, almost deflating.
āi have no friends,ā she confesses. āthatās why i was crying. i have no friends.ā
peter moves over to her and sets a gentle hand on her back. he doesnāt say anything yet, letting her guide the conversation again.
āschool is no fun when you donāt have any friends,ā willow declares, in a matter-of-fact fashion. āthereās no one to push me on the swing or chase me in tag. i feel all alone.ā
the transition from pre-k to kindergarten hasnāt been easy for willow. new school, new people. itās an adjustment sheās struggled to make. peter wasnāt aware this was part of it, though.
heās been there himself, having faced it firsthand for a good portion of his life. how could he not have, being branded as penis parker the second he stepped foot into midtown?
ābeing alone doesnāt have to be a bad thing,ā peter challenges, adding, ābut, youāre right. itās not fun either.ā
willow snuggles into his blazer impossibly more, laying on his dress shirt clad shoulder.
āi didnāt have too many friends when i was your age,ā peter recounts, willowās eyes widening. āreally? why not?ā
he chuckles at her question, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head.
ābeats me. but, really. i was on my own until i met uncle ned and aunt mj,ā peter smiles fondly at the mentioning of two of his oldest friends. āand mommy,ā willow jumps in. he squeezes her side affirmatively. āand mommy.ā
neither peter nor willow would be who they are without you to thank. youāve saved peter from himself so many times, today being one of them.
willow kicks her feet that are dangling freely over the ledge of the roof.
āhave you ever brought mommy up here?ā she inquires, watching her feet swing.
peter is just now realizing he hasnāt ever shown anyone this particular rooftop. itās only been his.
āactually, no,ā he admits and rests the side of his head against willowās. ānobody except you, wills.ā
he backs away enough to glance over at her.
ātell you what.ā
peter ruffles her locks loosely, willow leaning into his touch and looking up at him.
āletās make this our spot, somewhere we can come when we wanna get away from it all,ā he proposes. ātogether.ā a smile pulls at the corners of willowās lips. ādeal.ā
peter clears stray strands of hair out of willowās face with his fingers, pinching each of her cheeks playfully. she scrunches her nose up.
āyouāll find your people someday, hm? trust the process,ā he hums, willow hooking both her arms around his. āyouāre already my person, daddy,ā she murmurs.
his heart bursts for what must be the trillionth time. the love he has for willow, for you, for your little family is infinite and incomparable to anything peter has felt before.
he welcomes her embrace around him, cherishes being in her grasp.
Summary: Sometimes unforeseen plans have a good ending. Sometimes.Ā
Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x Reader
Word Count: 2,282 [oops]
Warnings: Language
A/N: Hereās the first chapter of my CEO series, my friends! This oneās dedicated to @purelyparker and @stvharrington because Iāve been making them suffer with me for the past two or so days - I love you both so much :ā)
A/N:Ā absolutely have no idea what this is š¤£š¤£ pulled it right out of my ass hence why it might be shit asdfghjkl. i genuinely got this random idea a couple hours ago and wrote it quickly just to try and put an end to my writerās block. so i really did just went with this with no care whatsoever which feels nice to not be too overly critical with every line and just letting it be. probably not my best work but i did enjoy writing it it though so thatās always good <33 anyways, hope you enjoy it too!! <33 p.s. the picture is technically a curtain but asdfghjkl letās just pretend itās a bed sheet.
ć PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader
ć TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; fluff; crack-ish
ć SUMMARY: Where you randomly perform your own Love Story music video around the house featuring your own Romeo, Tom.
ć WARNINGS: tons of dialogue and actions, tons of lyrics, unplanned, typos, randomness, shitty writing probably, oh and jake g. appears at the end for jokes haha.
ć WORD COUNT: 2.7k+ (itās shorter! itās a miracleeeee!)
ā± note: bold + italic is the lyrics. also you can listen to the song as background music BUT keep in mind itās not synced up so it may get a little confusing ahah so itās not really needed.
āDarling, have you seen my laptopāā Tom stopped in his tracks the second he laid his eyes on you in the middle of the living room. You had a wide smile on your face, a mischievous one that is. But what confused Tom the most was what looked like a bed sheet tied around your waist, fabric sprawled behind you as if it was a train to a dress. Except you werenāt wearing a dress, you were in simple, cotton shorts and his hoodie. āWhat are you up to?ā he asked cautiously.
You didnāt say anything and simply clicked something on your phone before tossing the device on the couch. Music suddenly filled up the whole space, one Tom immediately recognised.
āOh no,ā he groaned. āNot this song again.ā
right, so i need a lil help as to which WIP i should finish. so why not make you lot rank them as to which order youād want to read first!!
also, making this slapped (like full on backhanded disgraceful slap lmao) me in the face as to how many WIPs iāve actually got RIP so this is just some of them that iām particularly torn as to which i should get done first (tho atm my mob!tom series is calling my name bc iāve been neglecting her for a while iām sorry bb iāll get to u i promise). so if youād seen me talk about other WIPs but it isnāt in the choices, you didnāt. no iām kidding asdfghjkl iād like to keep them to myself for now so it will be a surprise *wink* *wink* but anyways!
hereās the link to form!
iāll only keep this up for a few hours!! iāll be removing the link and then privatingĀ the form after. bc trust issues lol. itās me being me donāt worry.
DISCLAIMER: iām only using this as a guide per se so itās not necessarily a deciding factor as to which will come out first because at the end of the day, it will still depend on my inspo and i wouldnāt want to force myself to write something simply because itās got more votes ya know?
p.s. please donāt steal any of the ideas like iāve been traumatised before just please donāt do it please iām literally going to burst into tears and delete this whole blog (a bit dramatic but you get the idea) just donāt steal <3 i mean iām not saying the tropes are original of course but just, donāt copy the summaries and then make it as your own i beg u on my knees alsklakslk
summary: you meet a cute guy at the subway, and he ignores you. that is until...
warnings: fluff
word count: 885
a/n: again, this is so fucking short but im in love with it, ok enjoy <33 not my gif !!
The subways weren't safe, but they were the only way you could go to school. You were a ... seemingly bad driver if you were being honest, hence you obviously didn't get a car. Your mom would be using her own car to go to work so the subways were your only way.
The safer the better it was, so you kept everything in your backpack, zipped tightly as you put the pads of your thumbs under the straps. You had been doing since the one time your phone got stolen once.
Bumping into hundreds of people wasn't exactly something you loved, but it's your only choice.
You waited for the next train, balancing on the balls of your feet, checking your watch every now and then. The train arrived with a small screech as it rubbed against railway tracks.
You stepped in as soon as the door opened with a quiet whoosh, a few people following behind you. It was pretty crowded but you realised you could fit in.
You stepped forward as you held on the dirty yellow bar above your head with one hand while the other hung loosely to your side.
The train started with a jerk making you crash lightly onto the boy next you, as you squeezed your eyes at the impact and tightened your grip on the bar.
"Sorry," you said to the boy beside you. But it seemed like he payed no mind, merely looking around the train. He was pretty cute, you couldn't deny, brown curls settled on the top of his head but were covered with the hood of his jacket.
Only five minutes before you reached your destination stepping out before glancing one more time at the boy you bumped into.
This happened for the next two days, the boy with the hooded jacket completely ignored you when you tried to make conversation or just say hello. He just looked at you once or twice with a small smile.
That's when realisation hit you like bricks, he might be deaf or dumb. So you thought learning a little sign language wouldn't hurt.
So that night you sat with your computer on your lap looking up how you can talk ( not really but .. ) in ASL. After learning some things like, 'hi, how are you' and 'my name is dash and dash' you thought you could finally talk to the cute boy you'd been pining on for a few days at the subway.
So you waited for the train next morning, still debating if you should do this or not, if you'll embarrass yourself.
The same doors opened again as you stepped in, taking a look around before finding the same boy, wearing the same 'Midtown High' hoodie.
You went and stood next to him, holding onto the bar handles, steadying yourself on your feet. The train started with the small jerk once again as you held up your finger before tapping shyly on his shoulder.
He whipped his head towards you as you said, "Right, um.."
"Hello, how are you doing," you signed making his eyebrows furrow into a adorable frown.
That's when you felt that you said something wrong and embarrassed yourself.
Meanwhile the boy took off his earphones out of his ears and said, "I'm sorry...I don't speak, well not speak but- I don't know sign language.." he gestured a finger between you two.
"You're not ... I've been trying to talk to you for the past few days and you just ignore me, so I thought you're deaf..or dumb," you chuckled nervously.
"Oh my God ! I- I swear I had no idea," he sighed before lifting up his phone, that showed a small playlist where "Back in Black" was playing, "my music must be too loud, shit!"
"It's alright.. you like AC/DC," you asked smiling in delight, finally happy over making a conversation with the boy.
"Huh," he asked in confusion. "I'm listening to Led Zeppelin."
"Uh, that's not ... check who's singing again," you pointed to his phone, trying to keep your laughter in.
He pressed the power button before seeing AC/DC under the song's name. A red blush coated his cheeks, as you smiled at the sight and raised your eyebrows at him.
"I'm so clueless, I didn't even realise you were talking to me before and I didn't know this wasn't Led Zeppelin," he giggled, looking at his shoes.
"You're cool ... " you waited.
"Oh! I'm Peter Parker, PP. No, that's weird ! I'm just Peter Parker," he stumbled upon his words.
"Hello Just Peter Parker, I'm just Y/N Y/L/N," you grinned at him charmingly.
"What, what school do you go to?" Peter asked curiously.
"Oh, um, Ridgeview High, you?" you questioned back.
"Midtown, but I have a feeling you already knew that," he said as a lazy smirk settled on his face.
You sealed your lips and nodded.
"Cool, hey do you want to ..." he held up one of his earphones in front of you as you shifted slightly more towards him, taking it and placing it in your near.
"Thanks Just Peter Parker," you looked at him in the eyes, and god they were beautiful.
"No problem, Y/N," he smiled softly before ducking his head down, slightly nodding it to the music. Your name rolled off his tongue smoothly and you'd love to hear it again.
You finally managed to talk to the cute boy at the subway.
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