#finding joy in the small and the big things

[wolverigrl]

Baby Bump and Tears

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: I cried. But I think it’s good to end things when they are at their highest peak. Thank you for your support and love for this fanfiction! <3

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, emotional, it's the last part

Enjoy! xoxo

Previous Part

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As I curl up on the couch beside Hugh, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace and joy that’s almost too much to hold. Our world has shifted, filled with love, excitement, and anticipation.

This baby… our baby.

Just thinking it makes my heart swell. I reach down, almost reflexively, to rest my hand on my belly, feeling a little thrill. It’s so small now, barely even there, but it’s ours. I glance up at Hugh, who’s watching me with that warm, gentle look, as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right here, right now.

His hand comes to rest on my knee, warm and steady, and I let out a soft breath, leaning into him, my head against his shoulder. He presses a kiss to my temple, the gentle touch calming and grounding. “You ready?” he asks, his voice soft, almost reverent.

There’s a sparkle in his eyes, and it fills me with so much love I feel like I might burst!

I nod, my throat suddenly tight with emotion as I press play on the first video.

The screen lights up with the familiar sight of Chris’s living room, filled with laughter and warmth. Just seeing my best friend's face instantly makes me smile.

We’ve been close for years, a bond that feels like family, like having an older brother who’s always been there, looking out for me. Sharing this news with him had been something I’d dreamed of, and now, watching it all over again, it feels even more special. I sometimes find it strange that we had a fling together many years ago, but I'm incredibly thankful that it didn't ruin our friendship.

On the screen, Chris and his siblings, Scott, Shana and Carly, are packed onto the couch. The energy is buzzing, with Hugh holding up the phone, trying to wrangle everyone into a “photo.” I can feel the anticipation from that day all over again, the little tremor of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside me. I remember exchanging a glance with Hugh, both of us barely holding back laughter. It felt like we were sharing a precious secret, and we couldn’t wait to let everyone in on it.

“Alright, everyone, say cheese!” my voice comes through the phone, high-pitched and almost breathless with excitement.

Chris leans in close, throwing an arm around me, and his siblings follow suit, all grinning, not knowing what’s about to happen.

“Cheeeeeese!” he says, hamming it up with a goofy grin, and I remember feeling a surge of love and gratitude for him.

For all of them.

And then, just as everyone settles into the “photo”, Hugh blurts it out, his voice full of pride and excitement:

“Y/n’s pregnant!”

The room falls silent for a heartbeat, and then—chaos.

Chris’s face goes blank with shock, his eyes widening as he processes the words, and then, as if a light switches on, his expression shifts to pure joy. He lets out this loud, ecstatic laugh, one that I can feel deep in my bones, and he practically tackles me in a bear hug, squeezing so tight I can barely breathe.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” he exclaims, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, his own shining with disbelief and excitement. “Seriously? This- this is incredible!” He grips my shoulders, his voice softening as he looks at me, his face full of something so pure and real it nearly brings me to tears. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom! I just know it!”

I nod, laughing and crying all at once, the happiness so big it feels like it’s radiating out of me.

“Yes, Chris! It’s real!” I say, my voice catching on the last word, and he wraps me in another hug, his arms around me like a promise that he’ll always be there, always a part of this family.

The rest of his siblings are cheering, reaching out to hug both me and Hugh, their joy spilling over, and I feel surrounded by love, a warmth that makes me feel so incredibly lucky. I catch Hugh’s eye over the happy chaos, and he’s watching me with this quiet awe, his face soft as he sees me embraced by my friends.

As the clip ends, I wipe a tear from my cheek, unable to stop smiling. I turn to Hugh, my voice barely a whisper, full of all the love and gratitude I feel.

“He's the best. He loves us, Hugh. Loves this baby already. I can’t believe we have friends who care this much..”

Hugh’s arm tightens around me, and he brushes his lips over my temple, his own eyes glistening. “You’re right. We’re so lucky to have him… all of them. And I’m so lucky to have you.” His voice drops, filled with a soft intensity that makes my heart race.

“I love you. You’re my everything, and this—us, this family—it’s my whole world.”

I look up at him, our faces close, and he kisses me, slow and deep, his hand resting on my cheek. In that moment, it’s like the whole world fades away, and there’s only us, together, ready to step into this new chapter.

When we pull back, I swipe to the next clip. I can feel my heart starting to pound again, this time with an almost nervous excitement, as I see the screen light up with the faces of Hugh’s family. His mom is sitting beside him on her cozy couch, with Oscar and Ava snuggled up next to me, their expressions already bright with anticipation. Just seeing their faces on the screen makes me feel this deep, comforting warmth.

They’ve embraced me from the start, made me feel like I truly belong, and sharing this news with them had felt like a sacred moment.

In the video, Hugh lifts the phone, settling us all into the frame. I remember holding his hand, feeling its warmth, and taking a deep breath, steadying myself.

“Okay, everyone, say cheese!” he says, grinning as he raises the camera.

“Cheeeese!” everyone says, laughing, leaning in closer to one another. I glance at Hugh, feeling that bubbling excitement again, and he gives me a small nod, encouraging me to go ahead.

“I'm pregnant!” I say, my voice carrying just enough that everyone hears, and then I hold my breath, watching their faces.

Hugh’s mom’s reaction is instant.

Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes widening with surprise, and then they fill with tears as she lets out a soft, happy laugh. “Oh, darling!” she says, her voice trembling with joy as she reaches over to embrace me. “Sweetheart, that’s… that’s wonderful!” Her voice is filled with so much warmth and love that I feel myself tearing up all over again, and I hug her tightly, feeling truly, deeply welcomed.

Oscar is smiling, trying to keep his composure, but I can see the pride in his eyes as he looks at Hugh. He reaches out to hug him tightly. “Congrats, Dad! I’m really happy for you too!” he says with a steady voice which is filled with unspoken love.

And then Ava practically launches herself into my arms, her face shining with excitement. “I’m gonna be a big sister!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding me so tight I feel her heart pounding against mine.

“Yes, you are, Ava!” I laugh, hugging her back just as tightly, feeling this overwhelming sense of love and connection. This is our family, and they’re already embracing this baby as one of their own.

I blink back the tears that are gathering in my eyes in the present, wiping them away again as Hugh reaches out to hold my hand. “They were so happy..” I murmur, my voice trembling with emotion. “They really, truly love us..”

He squeezes my hand, his voice soft but steady as he says, “Of course they do, baby. You’re their family. And this baby will be so loved.” He pauses, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing it gently.

“Just like you.”

The last clip is the one I’ve been holding onto, the one that feels the most personal, the most precious. It’s the video of my mom and my stepdad, Brian, whom I’ve always called “Dad”. He’s been there for me through everything, a constant, steady presence. I knew this news would mean everything to him, and to my mom, but there was something about calling him “Granddad” that felt so special and so right.

I tap play, and there we are, gathered around their kitchen table, just as we’d done so many times.

The comforting smell of my mom’s cooking, the warmth of their home, it all floods back to me. Hugh and I had been sitting across from them, exchanging little glances, both of us barely holding back our excitement.

“Alright, let’s get a picture together!” I say, lifting the camera as if it’s just another ordinary family snapshot.

They lean in, smiling, unsuspecting, and I feel my heart pound as I look at them, so full of love and warmth. Finally, I say it, my voice soft but clear: “We’re having a baby.”

For a second, they’re silent.

My mom’s hand goes to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears as she looks from me to Hugh, and then she lets out a small, joyful laugh, her face lighting up. “Oh, my baby… this is… this is everything!” She leans forward, pulling me into her arms, her voice trembling as she whispers, “I’m so happy for you!”

I sink into my mom’s embrace, feeling her arms around me, warm and steady, like they’ve always been.

She holds me tight, not letting go, and I can hear the emotion in her breathing, the little tremble that says more than words could ever say. She finally pulls back to look at me, her hands cupping my face, her eyes shining with the same love she’s given me all my life.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers, her voice so full of pride and tenderness that it makes my chest ache. “You’re going to be an incredible mother. I knew it the first day you held your baby cousin! You have so much love to give. And Hugh…” She glances at him, her smile soft and full of approval. “Thank you. I see how you look at her—you’ve always looked at her like she’s the most important thing in the world.”

Hugh reaches over, taking my mom’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, his own eyes misty.

“Thank you, Barb, really. I don’t even have words..” he says quietly. “I promise I’ll love her and this baby with everything I have.”

And then, Brian just stares at me, his face unreadable at first, and then, like the emotions are too big to contain, he lets out a breathy laugh and reaches for me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my forehead.

“Oh, my little girl..” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. I can feel him trembling slightly, a side of him I rarely see. “I can’t believe it… I couldn’t be prouder, sweetheart. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and now you’re bringing another beautiful soul into this world.” He leans back, blinking a few times as he fights back tears. I let out a shaky laugh and look at him lovingly. “You're gonna be a grandpa and you will be just as good as you are as a father.”

His tears broke like a dam and he began to chuckle. Brian pulled my mom and Hugh into our arms.

I see my dad looking over at Hugh with a warmth that’s unmistakable. “Thank you, Hugh. You are a good man.”

In the present, watching this clip play out, I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my face again. I feel Hugh’s arm wrap around me even tighter, holding me close as I quietly wipe my cheeks, laughing softly at my own emotions.

“He’s… he’s been my dad my whole life, and seeing him like that, it just makes everything feel so real. They’re all going to be such incredible grandparents!”

Hugh’s hand moves to cradle my cheek, turning me gently so I’m looking right at him. “You’re everything to them, y/n. And to me. They’re so proud of you… and I’m proud of you too. I can’t wait to see you as a mother. I know you’re gonna be amazing.”

I can barely speak, my heart so full that words feel inadequate. I reach up to touch his face, my fingers grazing his beard as I take in every detail, the warmth in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lips, the depth of love there that’s just for me.

“I’m so happy and thankful you’re by my side, Hugh. I don’t think I could do this with anyone else.”

We both lean in, and our lips meet in a slow, tender kiss, one that says all the things we don’t need to say out loud—the love, the promises, the future we’re building together. As we pull back, he rests his forehead against mine, a soft smile on his face.

“You, me, Oscar, Ava and this little one.” he murmurs, resting a hand gently on my stomach. “Our family. I’m so ready for this.”

I take a deep, shuddering breath, letting myself savor this feeling. It’s overwhelming but beautiful, and I know that as long as I have Hugh, our family and friends by our side, everything will be okay. It’s all more than I could have ever dreamed of.

Finally, I close the video app, locking my phone and setting it aside, then turn to Hugh again, feeling like I’m holding my whole heart in my hands as I look at him.

“We’re so blessed..” I whisper, the words spilling out in a soft, heartfelt murmur. “I don’t know how we got so lucky, but I’m so, so grateful.”

He pulls me into his arms, holding me as if he’ll never let go.

Our life, our love, this baby—it’s all a gift, one I’ll cherish with everything I have.

In this moment, I know that our future is going to be beautiful. And I’m ready for every single step.

---

Later that evening, with Hugh’s arms still wrapped around me, I glance at my phone and the idea hits me. The clips—each precious moment of joy, shock, and laughter from our family and friends. I can already imagine how special it would be to share this journey with everyone who has supported us. “What if we… posted it?” I ask, looking up at Hugh with a little smile.

He chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “You think the world’s ready for it?”

“Only one way to find out!” I say, excitement bubbling in my chest.

“We’ll show them how fun this journey has been from the very beginning. Plus, you know they’d find out anyway.”

With a grin, I start piecing together the clips, feeling a wave of happiness wash over me with each reaction we captured. Chris’s delighted laughter, Hugh’s mom’s joyful tears, and my own parent’s emotional embrace—they all blend into a beautiful, joyful montage that feels like a celebration of everything we’re about to embark on. I add some soft music and finish it with a little clip of me and Hugh laughing in our living room, the camera turning to show his hand resting protectively on my belly. I feel a soft, fluttery nervousness in my chest as I write the caption:

>>y/n instagram: When you’ve got the best family and friends to help you share the biggest news of your life… Baby Jackman is already so loved💕 Get ready, world—this little one’s going to have the coolest, funniest aunts, uncles, and grandparents around!😎❤️<<

Hugh chuckles as I hit post, and almost instantly, the notifications start flooding in. Friends, fans, and family—everyone’s reaction lights up my screen, and each new comment makes me smile even wider.

Right at the top of the comments, I spot Ryan's unmistakable reply:

>>vancityreynolds: Finally, someone to keep Hugh in line. Congrats on creating a future little Wolverine… or at least a very hairy child.<<

Hugh bursts into laughter beside me, shaking his head. “Of course he’d say that!”

I scroll down, spotting even more replies:

>>chrisevans: Counting down the days until I’m officially the cool uncle. So, so happy for you both!!!❤️<<

>>zendaya: I can already tell this kid’s going to have the best sense of humor. Congrats, you two!😍<<

>>therock: Hugh, let me know when the little one’s ready for some ‘Baby’s First Workout’ tip🤪 Much love to you both!❤️<<

>>blakelively: Congrats babes! Let me know if you need tips on handling an overexcited Ryan😂❤️<<

Fan comments start rolling in too, filling up with heart emojis, funny congratulations, and even more excitement about “Baby Jackman.”

And as the comments keep pouring in, I can’t stop smiling. Here we are, surrounded by love, joy, and humor from the people closest to us—and even from a few who like to tease us along the way.

This is everything I could have dreamed of and more..

.

.

.

The End.

---

Tags:

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07 @rachb629 @chronicallybubbly @marvelgirlie-4 @khxna

[coffeeshades]

—true blue ⭑ part ii

summary: two strangers meet in a city of millions, only to discover they've been searching for each other all along.

pairing: pedro pascal x f!reader.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: age gap, angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, loneliness, nostalgia. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: happy reading <3

Several weeks had passed since Pedro’s last letter, and your heart had fallen into a state of quiet, private anguish. At first, you waved it off—surely, he was busy; perhaps work had claimed his attention. It was only reasonable, you told yourself. Your own days were heavy with work; your nights were weighed down by the kinds of dreams that stretch between waking and sleep.

You expected his silence would soon be broken.

But as each day drew to a close without word from him, your soul grew restless, your mind endlessly rehearsing the contents of your last letter. Did you overstep some invisible boundary? Did he, perhaps, see the words on the page and find them lacking?

It was a mad habit, replaying the messages, re-reading them through imagined eyes. Had you given yourself away too soon, foolishly assuming some intimacy that perhaps had never been there?

Resigned, you finally abandoned any hope of hearing from him again.

One bright Saturday in late autumn, you sought solace in Hyde Park. The air was brisk, threading itself with the scent of dying leaves. In one hand, you clutched a warm pumpkin flavored coffee, and in the other, the last book Pedro had given you, its spine softened by countless touches, as though he’d read it a hundred times before sending it on to you. The vibrant red of your cardigan caught the eyes of passersby, a bright, defiant spot against the muted colors of the late autumn landscape.

As you walked, you saw the shapes of couples in the distance, silhouettes tangled together as they strolled or lingered under trees. You were reminded of those precious, everyday moments—of your friend's comforting calls, your patients’ murmured thanks at the end of long days, the warmth of those early letters exchanged with Pedro. Each of these small flashes of light is a reminder that life held joy even amid decay.

Yet even those small joys paled in comparison to what Pedro had come to represent to you. He was more than just a light; he had become the sun, his warmth reaching some part of you long-buried, awakening hope you’d thought lost forever. You clung to that hope, fragile as it was, in your steps.

And then, as if conjured by some unseen will, he appeared.

You saw him, standing near a tree talking on his phone, dressed much the same as the first time you’d met, only this time his glasses were different. Your heart raced, a sudden jolt of fear gripping you. You shouldn’t be scared—you’d been writing to him for weeks. You’d spilled your guts on paper, sharing things with him you hadn’t told anyone else. Talking to him shouldn’t be a big deal.

But it was.

You kept walking, hoping to avoid him, but then you heard it. Your name—deliciously spoken in his voice, rich and deep. You stopped dead in your tracks, heart hammering in your chest.

Your footsteps slowed, your pulse quickening as you turned. There he was, hands tucked into his pockets, his smile just as soft, as if he’d known all along that you’d appear there on that same path.

“I thought that was you,” he said, taking a few steps toward you.

It was all you could do to muster a reply, your voice an unsteady whisper against the gusts of wind. “You’ve only seen me once,” you stammered, “and you remembered me?”

A laugh, gentle and reassuring, rumbled from him as he replied, “You’re hard to forget.”

“Oh.”

It was the only word you could manage, your brain still trying to process the fact that he was here, in front of you.

He glanced down at the book in your hand. “How’s it going?” he asked, nodding towards it.

“I’m halfway through already. It’s fast-paced,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual, even though your pulse was racing.

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled again. “You going somewhere?”

You glanced around, desperate to avoid his intense gaze. His brown eyes were impossibly warm, pulling you in. “Not really,” you said. “Just walking.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

From there, conversation flowed, interrupted only by the brisk autumn breeze, as if you hadn’t already shared your deepest thoughts in letters. He asked about your work, and when you told him you worked in healthcare, he teased, “Could you be a little more specific?”

You laughed. “I’m a doctor, actually.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “No way. That’s impressive. Beauty and brains.”

You blushed. Did he just—did he compliment you?

“It’s no big deal. I applied for a residency here a while ago, and now… here I am.”

“Where’d you go to med school?” he asked.

“New York,” you said, smiling softly. “Lived there my whole life.”

“Why not stay there?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It sounds silly, but I always dreamed of escaping to somewhere new. Somewhere no one knew me.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

You laughed, glancing down at the ground. “Pretty lonely.”

He frowned. “Lonely?”

“Not much different from my life before,” you added quickly, feeling too exposed. You turned the conversation back to him. “What about you?”

“Uh, well, I’m…an actor,” he said with a shrug. “That's why I'm in London, filming a movie. Been here for a few months now.”

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of the moment stretching out between you. You had to say it. It had been gnawing at you since that first encounter—this unspoken truth, hovering between the lines of every letter you’d exchanged.

“I... I know who you are, by the way,” you blurted out, the words rushing out faster than you intended.

Pedro raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into that familiar, crooked smile. “Oh?”

You nodded, suddenly shy, feeling your face grow warm. “Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t sure at first. You look different, a little. But then when you signed the first letter with your name, I was like, ‘Oh yeah, it’s him.’ And then I didn’t want to ruin it or make things weird, so I didn’t say anything, but maybe I should’ve? I don’t know, I—”

You rambled on, your voice a frantic mess as the words stumbled over themselves. Pedro watched you, his eyes crinkling in amusement, letting you spiral out without interrupting. His quiet, steady presence only made you more flustered, the way he seemed so completely at ease, while you felt like you were falling over your own sentences like an idiot.

“Hey,” he said gently, cutting into your monologue. “Slow down. It’s okay.”

“Is it?” You sighed, feeling the ridiculousness of your own nervous energy. “I just don’t want you to think I’m only talking to you because of… you know. Who you are.”

He seemed unsurprised, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have kept this up if I thought it was just about… well, who I am,” he said, his tone softening. “Honestly, I was grateful for a reason to just… be myself.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, relieved. “Thank you. It’s just… I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Pedro said, smiling again, but softer this time. “Actually, thank you for coming clean about it. If it makes you feel better, I knew you knew. I could tell.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m not exactly subtle, am I?”

“No, but I like that about you,” he said, eyes glinting with warmth. “You’re refreshingly honest, even when you’re rambling.”

Your nerves melted just a little at his words, and everything felt easy again, just like in the letters.

The walk turned into an invitation to lunch, and soon enough, you found yourselves tucked into a cozy corner table at a little restaurant nearby. The place was warm, with soft lighting and wooden beams overhead, the air carrying the scent of fresh bread and something savory cooking in the back. It was intimate, inviting.

Pedro picked up the menu, scanning it briefly before glancing at you with a playful grin. “So, what’s your go-to order? Something pumpkin-flavored, I’m guessing?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Ha ha. Only the coffee. But sure, I’ll embrace the autumn stereotype.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I had a pumpkin spice latte the other day—didn’t hate it.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I knew you were the type. All that rugged, cool guy persona? A front for your love of seasonal beverages.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “What can I say? I contain multitudes.”

Lunch came, and so did the conversation between bites of food and sips of wine.

At one point, Pedro started telling a story about his first audition, a disaster that involved a broken chair and spilled coffee, and you nearly choked on your drink from laughing so hard.

“And then,” he said, shaking his head, “the casting director just looked at me, deadpan, and said, ‘Well, that was memorable.’”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, wiping your eyes. “I would have died.”

“I nearly did,” he said, grinning. “But hey, I got the part. Pity, probably.”

“Or charm,” you said, raising your glass. “Here’s to charming your way through life.”

He clinked his glass with yours, the sound soft, like the connection between you.

A nameless, delicate thing.

Laughter faded, and the conversation settled into a more vulnerable rhythm. The weight of what you had said in your letters hung between you, an acknowledgment that this was more than just books and thoughts shared on paper. It had become a bridge—fragile, intimate, but undeniably real.

“I know what that’s like,” you said, breaking the silence, your voice softer now. You swirled the last of your wine in the glass, staring at it like the answer might rise up in the reflection. “To try to mold yourself to fit into someone’s life. To make yourself pliable, digestible... because you love them. Because you want them to love you back. But I realized… that’s useless. You can change everything about yourself and still not be enough. So why betray yourself?”

Pedro’s, warm and deep eyes seemed to catch the weight of your words and hold them for a moment before he spoke. “That’s... yeah, I get that. More than I care to admit.”

You bit your lip, immediately feeling exposed. “I’m sorry,” you added quickly, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t mean to get all existential on you.”

He shook his head, his expression soft. “No, don’t apologize. It’s real. Honestly, it’s refreshing to talk about this stuff. It feels like people avoid these conversations, you know? Too much noise, not enough... depth.”

You nodded.

“And please don’t think I’m, like, dreadfully sad,” you added with a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I mean, yes, I am, but at the back of it, I promise there’s faith. There’s hope. And love. Lots of love.”

Pedro’s smile widened, just enough to deepen the creases at the corners of his eyes. "Same. I could tell from your letters."

"I don't know, I've always wanted this thing that's not quite love but something more."

“What is that?” he asked quietly, his voice dipping in a way that made the question feel more intimate, as if he already knew part of the answer.

You hesitated; the answer slipped out anyway. “To be understood.”

He didn’t speak right away, just took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. His face was a map of tiny details you had already memorized in your letters—his dark hair streaked with silver, the subtle patches of white in his beard, more prominent under the soft light of the restaurant. His eyes crinkled at the corners, even when he wasn’t smiling, like someone who’d spent a lifetime both laughing and crying deeply. He carried it all with him—his history written in the lines on his face, in the way his hands moved slowly, thoughtfully.

“You know,” he began, setting his glass down, his voice low but steady, “there’s something from one of your letters that’s been stuck with me. When you wrote: ‘All I’ve ever known of love is how to live without it. I just can’t seem to find it.”

Your breath caught in your chest. You remembered writing those words late one night, fingers trembling as your pen hit the paper, thinking it might be too much to share. But now, hearing it come back to you in his voice, you realized it had struck him, too. Maybe he had been holding onto it, turning it over in his mind, just as you had.

“That…” he trailed off, shaking his head, his gaze falling to the table for a moment as if searching for the right words. “That hit me. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

You swallowed.

Pedro’s eyes met yours again, and this time, there was a quiet intensity behind them. “I do feel like that too,” he said simply. “I’ve felt that way for a long time.”

There was a pause. Not the awkward kind, but the heavy kind—the kind where things shift, where you realize the other person is carrying the same scars you’ve spent a lifetime hiding.

“I’ve always been good at feeling things deeply,” he continued, his voice growing quieter, more reflective. “Too deeply, maybe. And with love… it’s like this paradox, you know? You want to be loved for who you are, but you end up bending yourself into knots, just trying to be enough for someone else. And when it doesn’t work, you wonder what you did wrong. Why you weren’t enough.”

He exhaled, rubbing a hand through his dark hair, the streaks of white catching in the light. “I’ve been in relationships where I thought, ‘This is it, this is love,’ but it wasn’t. I was just... fitting myself into someone else’s idea of love. And I don’t think I’ve ever let someone really see me. Not like this.”

You sat in silence for a moment, his words hanging in the air between you. There was something profoundly human about his confession. He wasn’t just a famous face or a larger-than-life presence. He was a person, flawed and searching, just like you.

“I think that’s what scares me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “That maybe I’ve never been seen either. Not really.”

Pedro looked at you then, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart thud harder in your chest—a softness, a recognition, like he understood you in ways you hadn’t even begun to understand yourself.

“I see you,” he said quietly, his voice steady, no trace of hesitation.

You blinked, feeling your throat tighten, not trusting yourself to speak. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The world outside the restaurant—Hyde Park with its autumn chill, the bustling streets of London—faded away. It was just the two of you sitting at that small table, the space between you shrinking.

Pedro leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass absentmindedly. “And what if,” he said, his voice low, “what if love isn’t something you have to find? What if it’s already here? In these moments, in the quiet spaces between words?”

Your heart fluttered, the weight of his gaze anchoring you to the moment. He wasn’t just talking about love as an abstract concept. He was talking about this—the connection between you, the letters, the words that had brought you both to this place.

And suddenly, you realized that you weren’t just yearning for love. You were already in it, knee-deep, feeling everything so deeply you hadn’t even noticed.

You smiled, a soft, tentative thing. “Maybe we’re both learning what love looks like.”

Pedro’s lips curved into a small smile, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you weren’t alone in your search.

You were here, in the mess of it. And that was enough.

a/n: don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and remember my ask is always open, would love to hear your thoughts!

next part should be up soon!!

[m4rv3l-girl]

Forget Me Not

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky wants to pop the question. Except, he’s forgotten one very important thing…

Requests Open!

Warnings: None. Just fluff!

The night was perfect.

From the clear autumn sky dusted with stars to the way the city seemed to glow just for them, Bucky could tell this was their moment. He’d spent weeks planning, going over every little detail to make this evening unforgettable. But as he adjusted his shirt for the hundredth time, nerves began prickling down his spine.

Across from him, Y/N looked stunning. Her smile was warm and knowing, and Bucky could tell she’d noticed his antsy energy. She seemed suspicious, maybe even expecting something big, and he couldn’t help the soft grin tugging at his lips as he watched her. She always knew him too well.

“Kitten, you’re staring,” he teased, breaking the silence and reaching for her hand across the table.

She raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Me? You’re the one who’s been adjusting your shirt for the last five minutes. Is something up?”

“Just want to look my best for you,” he said smoothly, though his heart was pounding. He could feel the tiny box in his pocket, a little weight pressing against his chest with each beat. “Can’t a guy want to look sharp for his girl?”

“You always look sharp to me,” she replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “But there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Bucky swallowed, trying to find his calm. “Maybe. But I think it’ll be worth the wait.”

As the dinner continued, Bucky did his best to act natural, though every word and every touch felt like a countdown to the question he was about to ask. The restaurant was quiet, with soft music playing in the background and a gentle hum of conversations around them. He’d chosen this place because it felt intimate, a cozy spot tucked away from the rest of the world where it could be just them.

They had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, sharing memories, laughter, and quiet looks that spoke volumes. Bucky smiled, watching as Y/N took a sip of her wine, and felt his heart nearly burst with the quiet joy of being here, in this moment, with her.

“So, remember that time you tried to teach me how to cook?” she teased, raising her eyebrows at him over the rim of her glass.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, come on, Doll. I wasn’t that bad.”

“Not that bad?” she echoed, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Bucky, you set spaghetti on fire. Spaghetti. I didn’t even think that was possible.”

“Hey, the stove was more complicated than it looked,” he protested, his lips quirking into a grin. “Besides, who needs fancy pasta when I make such a good breakfast-for-dinner?”

“True,” she admitted, laughter still in her eyes. “I will give you credit for those pancakes. I mean, only a man as charming as you could convince me that a plate of slightly burned pancakes was a five-star meal.”

“‘Slightly burned pancakes,’” he muttered, feigning offense. “I prefer ‘crispy edges.’ And let’s not forget, you said they were the best pancakes you’d ever had. I still remember that.”

“Did I really?” she asked, a hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks as she glanced away.

“Oh, you absolutely did. It’s one of my fondest memories, Doll,” he said, leaning in slightly. His voice softened, carrying the weight of his sincerity. “Anytime I can make you smile like that…those are the moments I want to remember forever.”

She stilled, looking at him with wide eyes before a gentle smile softened her features. “You always say the sweetest things.”

“Only for you, Kitten,” he murmured, his voice low. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, captivated by the glow of the candlelight on her face, the way her eyes shone with laughter and warmth. In that moment, he knew without a doubt—this was it.

This was where he was supposed to be.

As they finished their meal, he decided it was time. He reached into his jacket pocket, feeling for the small box, but instead, his fingers met…nothing. His heart stilled, and a sense of dread clawed its way up his throat. He checked his other pockets quickly, all while keeping his expression neutral.

No box.

Panic settled in as he realized what this meant.

The ring—the one he’d spent days picking out, picturing the exact moment he’d slide it onto her finger—it was sitting at home, in his nightstand drawer. He’d been so focused on planning every single detail of tonight that he’d forgotten the most important part.

Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Bucky, you alright?”

His gaze snapped back to her, and he realized he was probably giving her the most ridiculous, deer-in-the-headlights look. He tried to smile, but he could feel the strain. “I…uh, yeah. Just…y’know. Maybe I’m just nervous.”

“Since when does Bucky Barnes get nervous?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection. She reached across the table, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

His shoulders slumped slightly. There was no use hiding it from her, especially not with her looking at him like that. He took a deep breath, brushing his thumb over her knuckles as he held her hand.

“Alright, so, full disclosure,” he said, his voice low and a little sheepish. “I had this whole night planned out, Doll. Every little thing, down to the music they’d be playing and the wine we’d drink. And I was gonna…ask you something really important.”

He paused, watching her expression carefully. Her eyes widened slightly, a faint blush rising to her cheeks, and he could tell she was already piecing it together.

“You were going to propose,” she whispered, a smile beginning to form.

“Yeah,” he admitted, letting out a chuckle that was equal parts relieved and embarrassed. “Except…I forgot the ring. Left it right at home in my nightstand.”

For a moment, there was silence. Bucky braced himself, half expecting her to be disappointed or to tease him mercilessly for messing up such a big moment. But instead, she broke into soft, melodic laughter, her eyes filled with the same warmth that made him fall for her in the first place.

“Oh, Bucky,” she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Did you really think I’d care about a ring?”

He blinked, his heart hammering in his chest. “I just…I wanted it to be perfect. Wanted everything to be just right for you.”

She reached across the table, resting her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “You don’t need a ring to ask me. I’d say yes a thousand times over, even without it.”

He swallowed, a rush of emotion catching him off guard. Here he was, standing on the edge of everything he’d ever wanted, and she was telling him it was already perfect, just because they were here together.

“Doll…” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re sure? No fancy ring, or the big speech…?”

She smiled, nodding. “Positive. Just you and me, right here.”

He got up from his chair, kneeling beside her with a grin, his hands cradling hers as he looked up into her eyes. “Then let’s make it official. Y/N, will you marry me?”

Her answer came in the form of a radiant smile, a simple “yes” whispered through her tears.

He pulled her into his arms, the two of them laughing and holding each other, oblivious to the other diners. She was everything he needed—everything he’d ever wanted—and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

They left the restaurant hand in hand, walking down the quiet street with the stars shining above them. Bucky looked over at her, feeling that familiar warmth flood his chest as he squeezed her hand.

“When we get home,” he murmured, pulling her close, “I’ll give you that ring. Promise.”

She laughed, leaning into him as they walked. “You could’ve proposed with a ring pop, Hun, and I’d have said yes..”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips. “Doll, you’re my best girl..”

“Damn right.” She stated.

And as they strolled through the city, wrapped in each other’s arms, Bucky knew that forgetting the ring had been the best mistake he’d ever made.

[asgardianechoes]

Spilled Secrets

Loki x Reader Fluff

Summary: You secretly like Loki, but you’re kind of upset he doesn’t know… until he finds out.  

Word Count: 3.2k

It wasn’t hard to fall for him. Humor, charm, high cheekbones… he has it all. From his silver tongue to his raven hair, you adored every aspect. Despite his misdeeds, he was undeniably hot. He held himself royally, always maintaining an air of nobility. One meeting with him had you hooked on him, unable to let go or think of anything else.

‘He lives free rent in my mind’, you told Natasha one day in the living room of the Avengers Headquarters. Apart from Pepper, she and Wanda were the only ones you could do Girl Talk with. ‘I don’t know how to tell him.’

She looked at you sympathetically, taking your hand in her own. She had known of your crush since the day you started liking him. The radio played in the background, informing of some good weather, but neither of you noticed, both too concentrated on your current dilemma. Lovesickness had never been a significant issue to you before… until he came along.

‘He stole my heart… and yet he acts oblivious,’ you ranted on. Natasha looked up, smiling softly. She stroked your hand with one finger absent-mindedly as she listened intently.

‘He’ll get there. Or maybe,’ a small smirk tugged at her lips as she looked back up at you, ‘he already knows; he might just be toying with you just to see how long you’d last.’

You nudged her with your hand, a faint red hue coming over your face. He wouldn’t… right?

‘I mean-’, she pressed on, ‘it’s a very typical thing of him to do, don’t you think?’ She scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your back soothingly. ‘Playing with others’ feelings… I honestly don’t think it would take him that long to figure out that you like him. It’s really obvious.’

‘You’re not helping,’ you replied, looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to locate him through the walls. Nevertheless, you smiled softly at her teasing. She was always there for your small talks. After a while, you lowered your gaze back to your lap, reality sinking in and you felt the joy leaving you.

‘But what if he doesn’t? What if he genuinely doesn’t know?’ you mumbled in front of you, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around them. Once again, tears threatened to fall as you buried your face in them, softly mumbling to yourself. The fabric of your pants absorbed the salty droplets, leaving a dark spot there. You were audibly sniffing now. You felt her hand move up and down your back again, her words only muffled sounds. At some point she led you back to your room, leaving you to yourself for the rest of the night.

The next day you went over to the library. The Avengers had quite a big one, it filled the entire floor. Rows upon rows of shelves lined the walls and the spaces in between, the scent of paper floating in the air. You stopped at the sign that indicated where the romance-fiction stories were. If only my life was as nice as one of those, you thought, pulling a roman out of the shelf and reading the back of it intently. If only I could live in a life like that.

Sitting down at the table, you put down the book you’d taken out. Not gonna lie, you were in no interest in reading it. There was no need for you to get jealous over another made-up story. To pass time, you grabbed a scrap piece of paper and started doodling. Only the lines that the lead left only spelled one word, over and over again: Loki. You wrote his name all over the place, sideways, in cursive, in bold letters. Maybe it was because you were so concentrated that you didn’t hear the library door opening.

‘Oh, I see that I’m not the only one in need of something to do,’ a voice said, startling you. You quickly covered the scribbled paper with another blank sheet, looking over your shoulder. Thor was standing there with a load of books in his arms.

‘My dear brother decided to make me run errands,’ he explained cheerfully, certainly not getting the nervousness etched in your face. You nodded, looking down. What you would do to make Loki make you run his errands. ‘You alright?’ His voice brought you back to reality.

‘What? Oh. Yeah, I’m alright. Just… in need of something to do, like you said,’ you managed a small smile that was somewhat realistic. He just smiled and continued putting books back on shelves. Your eyes followed every single book as he put them back. Loki held these maybe even moments ago, you thought. If only I were a book he’d like to read.

Sometime later, he looked over to you again and asked: ‘Are you working on anything? Because that paper tells me you aren’t doing what you want to do.’ You picked up the two pieces of paper and replied a little too fast: ‘Oh, yeah, I just have to write something for Stark, nothing big.’ You held the papers a little more firmly in your hand. When he asked to proofread it, you declined immediately. Mumbling something about not being done, you put them back down, bending over it and pretending you were thinking about what to write. Shrugging, Thor left, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. But your relief didn’t last long; a few moments later, another person came in, and this time it was none other than the god of mischief himself. Strutting through the rows, you heard him pulling books out and putting them back in, as if none of the ones he found were worth his attention. Eventually he spoke up.

‘Why the tenseness? Is it your time of the month?’ he asked coyly. He turned the corner and looked at you. Your gaze dropped almost instantly to the ground. ‘No, I’m just…,’ you said, picking your papers up again, ‘just a little tired. Couldn’t sleep.’

His eyebrows raised as he looked away to the opposite bookshelf. ‘Is that so…?’ he mumbled, more to himself than to you, ‘hmm.’ You couldn’t tell if he knew you were lying or not but he sure seemed to deem you amusing. After a small pause he continued. ‘I would’ve thought someone like you would know that lying to me is futile.’

You froze. Of course you knew that, but how could you ever tell him the truth of your stiffness? He’s the prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, a regal character, not some random guy you can just find on the streets. ‘Yes, of course. How could I not know that?’

He narrowed his eyes, his signature smirk widening. He walks up to you, his eyes boring into yours. His gaze fell upon the papers you held in your arms, a questioning look crossing his face.

‘Just… just a report I’m supposed to write,’ you lied for the second time, and he didn’t let that go unnoticed. He tilts his head, his eyes asking are you really going to do this? Because there won’t be a nice ending if this continues. He doesn’t say anything about it though, just nods slyly and walks away.

He pulls a further book of the shelf, inspecting it. Seemingly satisfied, he scanned it and left the library, letting the emptiness envelop you. You uncovered the paper filled with his name, unshed tears threatening to fall. Will he ever know…? Will he ever acknowledge my feelings for him?

You return to your room afterwards, attempting to bury your feelings down a deep grave. You sulked until night fell upon the busy city. Deciding to take a shower, you went to get some fresh clothes for the night. Soon enough, warm water was splattering down your body, warming your sore and mentally broken body.

When you came back out of the shower and entered your living room again, you found an unexpected guest. Loki was sitting in your armchair, reading a magazine. His eyes darted to you the moment you stepped into the chamber. You fumbled with your nightshirt pockets, unsure of what to do.

‘What, uh, brings you to my place at this hour?’ you tried, testing the waters. He doesn’t reply, instead he slowly puts the magazine down, his eyes never leaving yours. He shortens the distance between you, every step making your heart beat faster. When he finally stopped around a foot away from you, you looked down, unable to look at him properly. He was too much, too dazzling for your poor, tragic eyes.

‘I think we both know why I’m here,’ he says, tilting his head, eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t breathe, your breath running short. His aura surrounded you like a cage, keeping you trapped in his gaze. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ you replied quietly to the floor. He lifted your chin and forced you to look him in the eye, his face inches from yours. ‘Do not lie, little minx. I know what your problem is. You suffer from lovesickness. There’s a man you love so dearly that you can’t stop thinking about him.’

You shoved him away the moment these words left his mouth. You couldn’t, couldn’t stand his breath on your face, couldn’t stand how close he was to you. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ you said, using indifference to cover up your shaking voice, ‘I do suffer from that. What has that got to do with you coming over?’

He scoffed softly, ‘Oh, darling, that has everything to do about me coming over. I imagine I can relieve you of your… dilemma.’ Your heart skipped a beat, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he meant. You just shook your head, looking away. ‘You wouldn’t understand…’ you said, hoping he’d stop clawing at your secrets. But he smiled, nodding slightly and does the utter opposite of what you hoped. ‘Oh really? Because I have a very different opinion about that.’

Please leave, you thought as he said this, praying to the gods, please stop killing me like this… another minute with you will break me. But his next words proved that your prayers were ignored.

‘I’m the lucky guy.’

I’m the lucky guy.

These words seemed to echo in your head. So he knew. He knew about your helpless case. And he knew he was at the center of it. All this time. Or maybe just since today. But who cares. He knows. And your secret’s spilled. In a terrifying way.   

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You closed it again, looking anywhere but at him. In the end you settled with staring at his knees, which are pretty much where your eyes land when you look down. You were freaking out, your heart hammering in your chest. You needed to be alone. Right. Freaking. Now.

‘You know what?’ you said, your voice quivering, ‘I’m going to bed.’ You turn around and began marching with determination towards your bedroom door. Loki seemed slightly stunned, catching your shoulder just in time and called after you with worry in his tone: ‘Where are you going? You shouldn’t just leave me hanging, we should – need – to talk about this-‘

‘No, we won’t,’ you said, refusing to turn around and face him. Gods, if you stayed any longer tears would fall. ‘We shouldn’t, because we’re not-‘ she broke off, the words lost in her throat. Going to work out well was what she wanted to say, but she just couldn’t – wouldn’t – bring these words over her lips. Instead, she shook her head again and marched further away. Your sanctuary was so close… so close… But his next words brought you to a halt again.

‘Jumping to conclusions won’t help, Y/n,’ he said with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Due to her lack of response, he pressed further, ‘Is that why you never tried to communicate with me? Why you so desperately avoided my presence? Because you feared that no matter what you did, the worse-case scenario would always happen? Talk to me, Y/n.’ His words hung in the air, thickening it. Tears welled up in her eyes, her mind reflecting on all the break-up and mocking scenarios her imagination had come up with. She whipped around, trying to keep her tears from falling.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what it feels like. You have-‘ she broke off again, a shuddering breath replacing the words she was about to say. You have no reason to love me. Not a single one. Tears began to fall as this thought formed in your head. The same one that brought you to tears every time. Every. Damn. Time.

He stayed silent, staring at the thin streams flowing down your face. Unable to bear the silence, you ran back to your room, slamming the door behind you. The moment it fell into place, the streams on your cheeks became rivers, and soon enough you were a sobbing mess on the floor. You were sure Loki could hear them through the door, but at that moment you didn’t care. He had no reason to love you, to care about you, or to even be here, in your living room, standing, stunned, in front of your bedroom door.

Loki felt a sudden pang of sadness when he heard your sobs. Looking down and deciding that it’s a bad time, he leaves, shutting your door quietly.

You didn’t remember how long you’d sat there, crying, on the floor. The only thing you do remember that is that at some point, you dragged yourself into bed and cried yourself to sleep. The next morning came in the blink of an eye, the bright sunlight waking you up. For a split second everything was fine. No worries, no problems, no nothing. But then it all came back to you and the feeling of eternal bliss was stripped from you faster than you wanted it to be.

As you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, you saw something that certainly wasn’t there the night before. A small folded card was propped up against your brush on your nightstand, and your heart skipped a beat when you recognised Loki’s smooth handwriting. There was only one word on the cover: your name. Picking it up like a grenade, you opened it, expecting to see something that went along the lines of ‘I’m sorry, that’ll never happen again,’ but only found one line of words inside it.

‘Come over to my room.’

You blinked.

Come over to my room.

You read through that line a good five times before the meaning got into your brain, although the cogs in your head were still trying to sort this out. Loki – like, God of mischief and destroyer of New York Loki – was inviting you to enter his private chambers? Was this a joke? Was he trying to hype you up just to break you back down?

As much as you’d like to deny it, that order was a lot more appealing than it should be. You desperately wanted to see him again, even if it meant you could be broken. So after a moment of internal debating, you concluded that you will go pay him a visit, and will see what the hell he wants. Putting on some clothes, you set off to his room.

You half expected him to swing the door open and yank you inside when you knocked, but instead some green light shimmered and formed the words: Door is unlocked. Starting to get creepy now, you thought, gathering up your courage and pushing the door open.

The moment you stepped a foot into his room, a hand grabbed your waist and spun you around. Next moment you felt soft lips pressed against yours. Your breath hitched when you figured it was Loki’s. You didn’t have time to register what was going on, everything was happening so fast. So you did the one thing you could do: melt into his touch.

Once the shock has subsided, it felt a lot better than what you expected in your fantasies. His lips were so soft, so loving as they kissed you, sweetly asking for you to open your mouth. His tongue delved into it, tangling itself with yours, licking and flicking and who knows what tricks.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, his blue eyes gazing into yours. You blushed, looking at the floor, suddenly realising what you two just did. Stumbling over your own words, you said: ‘That was… umm…’

He hummed in response, his hands never leaving your waistline. Your face must’ve been as red as a tomato when you spoke up again. ‘Nice of you…’

He put on a mock hurt look. Pulling you closer, he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. ‘Is that all? After this wonderous surprise I’ve prepared that bested all other ones?’

You shrugged, unable to speak. He was killing you, like before… but this time in a sweet way. You mumbled something about being ‘sorry for last night’, but he shushed you almost immediately.

‘There’s no need for that,’ he said, patting your head, ‘No need to be sorry. I know I went a little to sudden.’

He pulled back to look at you. His eyes searched your body, as if trying to print it into his head. Your arms creeped up his neck, wrapping themselves securely around it. You stared as he breathed heavily into your face, a scent of mint filling your nose.

‘Did you like, eat a mint this morning?’ you asked shyly. He chuckled, swinging you into his arms, causing you to instinctively cling onto him. You gave him an angry look, burying your face in his neck. ‘Just for you, my love.’ You were suddenly happy he couldn’t see your face. He could probably feel the heat radiating off it, though.

‘So… are we a thing now?’ he asked, walking towards the couch and sitting down, you now in his lap. ‘Or what do you Midgardians call it… a couple?’ You nodded in agreement, making yourself comfortable in his arms. He absent-mindedly stroked your hair, admiring the way it shimmers slightly in the dim light.

‘For how long did you know?’ you asked him, grabbing his free hand and playing with it like a toddler. He thought for a moment, then said: ‘Most likely since a month ago. I was originally waiting for you to make the first move, but… you seemed too nervous to. That’s why I decided to come to your room last night.’

You gaped as he said that. A freaking month. No, we’re not talking about a week or two, he’s known for a MONTH. You’ve only crushed on him for like what, two months? He smirked as he saw your expression. ‘You kept looking at me now and then. And you always freaked out when you were within three meters of me.’

You shoved him playfully, pulling his hand up so it was right over your heart. You leaned into his touch, and for the first time since hours, you were glad he made the first move.

Hope y'all enjoyed it!!!

(Guys it's my first official tumblr storyyyyyy)

Tagging: @vbecker10 @mischiefmaker615 @simplyholl

Tell me if you want to be part of my taglist!

[twstfanblog]

ok I need to see twst casts reaction to twilight. Yuu tells them this was the iconic romance media of their time (as in very popular, not as in good). Vil reacts with appropriate horror. Ortho judges the editing. They get to see fucked up evil cgi/puppet baby. Was Yuu team Edward, Jacob, or secret third thing (team Alice, team Alice, team Alice-) Do the first years start quoting it. "Deuce, where the hell you been, loca?" "You named our science project after the loch NESS monster???" Idk I just think this would be funny. Love you and ur work bye 💝

My army of Anons always bring me joy. Im glad you like my stuff!

I may do a small mini series of Yuu showing the Twist boys various movies.

But for Twilight, Vil NEEDS to read these books, he needs to understand the inner thoughts of Bella because, hun, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??? STOP BITING YOUR LIP.

He doesn't understand the character motivations, He's also a bit of a Bella basher if only because she is LOOKS like Neige hair and eye color wise, and everyone is so adoring of her??? But she's so bland???? But also so pretty??? BUT SO DULL??? (Yuu shows him other movies Robert and Kristen have done and he becomes a very big fan of them.)

Ortho is confused why this entire movie was dipped in teal. He at first thought the other movies would have color tinting for like theming and he was deeply disappointed they were not. He finds the camera work and sets very fun though!

The first years are making so many jokes. Jack just left the second Jacob turned into werewolf. He wasn't even going to try to deal with the bullshit the others were about to start.

Epel annoys Vil by copying movie Bella's mannerisms whenever he'sscolding him. He didn't notice at first, but once he did, Vil nearly broke Epel's nose with his instant urge to punch him.

Yuu was Team Charlie x Carlisle. They were CLEARLY in love with each other she says.

[ponyregrets]

I wanted to write about Buck and Eddie going in the ocean and I'd written most of it before I thought to check what the weather in LA is actually like right now (look, I'm in New England, I just think of it as Warm down there, okay?) and I decided to go with it anyway. as @frightfullytreeish said, get chilly, idiots

(806 coda, 1900 words, also on AO3)

"Hey, what brings you joy?"

Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper.

And of course there's the Tommy of it all. Buck hasn't exactly been mourning or anything, but he's obviously down. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to say that nothing is bringing him joy at the moment. It's not a particularly joyful time.

But Buck doesn't hesitate, doesn't question. He just says, "The ocean," and doesn't even ask why Eddie wants to know.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I never saw it until I left Hershey. We never went to the beach or anything when I was a kid. The first time I saw it, I fell in love. It was the best thing I'd ever seen."

"I didn't know that."

Buck shrugs. "Doesn't come up that much. And I guess I always think I'll get used to it? But it's amazing every time. I never get tired of it."

He should have known, right? They've gone to the ocean together. Or--well, they've had calls near the water before. That guy who got struck by lightning. The shark.

The tsunami.

But they've never just gone. Buck has never tagged along with him and Chris on any of their trips, and he and Buck have no reason to just take a beach day together.

Joy doesn't need a reason, right? He can just do it.

"Cool," says Eddie. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"What else are we doing?"

It hasn't been a problem, exactly, their lack of things to do. It's just kind of new, the way they're hanging out in the last week. Usually they have Chris, or girlfriends, or boyfriends. They have some reason to stop being together, and now they just…don't. And Buck just keeps on coming over, hanging out on Eddie's couch, in his space, like he can't bear to be in his loft now that Tommy isn't there.

Or something.

"You got some trunks I can borrow?" Buck asks.

"Are we swimming?"

"You want to go to the beach and not swim?"

Most of the time, that's what he does. When Chris was younger he'd get in the water, but the last few years it's been Eddie supervising while Chris does his own thing far enough away that it doesn't look like he's being supervised.

But Chris is in Texas. And, yeah, it's November, but Buck doesn't seem to care.

"I'll see what I've got," he says and finds he has two pairs of trunks in good enough shape that he's not embarrassed about anyone wearing them. Small miracles.

He throws the bigger pair to Buck and then goes to change in his bedroom. Buck will be doing the same thing in the bathroom, not for the first time, but he's never been changing into Eddie's trunks before. Did Ana ever wear anything of his? Marisol didn't. Buck might be the first person since Shannon.

As long as they fit, it's fine. Not a big deal at all.

They take Buck's car, the podcast he's listening to about the issues with the keto diet resuming as soon as he turns it on. Hen has gotten tired of explaining why his diets might be a problem herself and is outsourcing, which Eddie can't blame her for, but he doesn't find the resources nearly as interesting as Buck does. He already knows he doesn't want to do keto.

"You don't need to cheer me up, you know," Buck says, about halfway to the beach, without bothering to pause the keto thing. "I'm doing okay."

"I know."

It's mostly true. Buck has seemed fine with the breakup. Not happy, but not heartbroken either. He's been a little quiet about it, more so than Eddie was expecting. All he'll say is that Tommy initiated it, but he understands why.

"I'm trying to be happier," he tells Buck. "For me."

"Is that a thing you can try? Like, aren't you just happy or not?"

"If that was true, the ocean wouldn't bring you joy, right?" He lets out a breath, his stomach tied in inconvenient knots. "Someone pointed out that when I had the choice between something that would make me happy and something that wouldn't, I picked the one that wouldn't."

Buck mulls this over for a long moment. "I always figured that's because you're more mature than I am." It's only half a joke.

"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it." His breath shudders more this time. "Anyway. I'm not doing that anymore. I'm looking for things that bring me joy. So I figure if the ocean does that for you, maybe it'll do it for me, too."

"I hope so."

They set up like Eddie would with Chris, towels and belongings planted in the sand, the only difference that they left their phones in the car since no one is staying behind. He keeps his back turned as they shed the layers of clothing they have on, but when Buck hands him a tube of sunscreen, he has no choice but to stare at the expanse of bare back. The motions are familiar, nothing he hasn't done a thousand times for Chris, but…

Well, he's never done it for Buck.

Buck makes him turn around so he can return the favor, a much less familiar process. These days, he usually leaves his shirt on.

But he knows Buck's hands. They're familiar, all heat and callus. Careful, incongruously so. Buck looks like he's built clumsy, someone who can't do delicate work, and maybe he knows that too. Like happiness to Eddie, precision doesn't come naturally to Buck. He has to put the effort in, and he does. Eddie's skin lights up with every stroke of Buck's hands, so he's sure that Buck gets every inch.

And then he keeps going a little longer. Just to make sure.

"Okay," says Buck at last. "We're good to go."

Eddie is expecting Buck to run into the ocean like an overgrown puppy, all bright enthusiasm despite the chill, but he's cautious. He dips a toe in, then his foot, then the other. He walks in slowly enough that Eddie overtakes him, even though he's not running. He's just eager.

"The first time I went into the ocean, I was in Virginia Beach," Buck explains without making Eddie ask. "It was May, and I thought it would be warm enough, it was a hot May. But I ran in and it was so cold. I ran right back out."

"Goes to show," says Eddie.

"What, exactly? I know how the water's going to be today. It's cold."

The water is probably around the same temperature as it was in Virginia Beach in May. Eddie shivers, but doesn't stop, not until he's up past his knees. He smiles at Buck, who's still just letting the waves lap his toes. "Yeah, it's nice anyway. It's hot out."

"Not hot enough."

"It's fine."

He's in up to his ankles now. "You're not getting the joy, though."

"I am."

"Eddie."

"I'm getting used to it."

"You're not supposed to get used to it. You're supposed to be be making choices that make you happy right away, right?"

"I am happy," he says again, and it doesn't feel like a lie. "It's nice, there's no one else here. And it's not cold enough for us to get hypothermia."

"Are you sure this isn't just for me?" Eddie cocks his head, and Buck clarifies, "For my benefit."

"Should it be?"

Buck kicks at a wave. "He said I wasn't ready. Tommy. That's why he broke up with me. I asked him to move in with me, and he broke it off instead."

"So he's an idiot," Eddie says. "Always knew there was a chance, but I was hoping I was wrong."

"Is he, though? Was he wrong? I didn't really want him to move in. I just wanted…" He huffs. "I want to be done with this, you know? I'm ready to be with someone. And I think it could have been him."

It's not like getting shot, or even like getting punched. It's like a bullet or a fist going past him, close enough to graze the skin. Close enough that he's thinking about how much it could have hurt.

"But that's shitty, right? Like, how long could I have kepg going just because I didn't have a reason to break up with him? He was…fun. I liked him. I liked feeling like I'd figured it out. Like that was the last piece. I like guys too."

"Maybe it was," Eddie says. The water is lapping against his legs, the surf gentle. He's used to the temperature where he's submerged, but it's only halfway up his thighs. Every time the droplets splash higher, there's this shock of sharp little pinpricks.

He's so fucking happy.

"Maybe that was the last piece, but that doesn't mean Tommy is it. Maybe you're ready, but you're not ready for him."

"I'm just tired," says Buck. "I'm tired of waiting for someone to want me enough, you know? I'm ready to settle."

"You shouldn't," says Eddie. "You shouldn't be with someone just to be with anyone."

"You can build it," he argues, like Chris angling for a later bedtime or more video games before homework. "Love. Like you and Shannon did."

Nausea roils his stomach. "We didn't. It wasn't like that."

"I know it wasn't perfect, but you two were working on it. You were going to--"

"She wanted a divorce. Before she died. That was one of the last things she told me. We weren't going to have another kid, we weren't going to get married again, we weren't going to be together." He's not crying, but in that way where he is very aware that he's not crying. Where Not Crying is currently defining his existence. "I think we could have been friends," he says. "And maybe we could have figured it out. Been together again, made it good. That's what I told myself. And that's…easy."

"Easy?" Buck asks, in a small voice. Like Eddie is telling him a fairy tale he wishes could be true.

Which Eddie is, actually.

"If she was the love of my life and I lost her, then that was it. No one else would ever measure up. Nothing else could ever be as good. It was never going to work."

"But she wasn't?"

"Maybe she was. Or maybe--" He's Not Crying. "Maybe I don't just get one love, or even just one life. Maybe it doesn't have to be about finding her again. It can be about finding someone new. Someone who…"

He chokes then, the words dying in his throat. Buck is dazzling in the sunlight, his eyes as blue as the sea, his expression open, waiting. His whole existence focused on Eddie.

Eddie would marry him today. Eddie would marry him tomorrow, Eddie would marry him yesterday. Eddie would tie himself to Buck in any way Buck could think of, in every way, with wills, with contracts, with mortgages, with handcuffs, with string.

"Someone who brings me joy," he finishes.

"Joy," says Buck. He looks over the horizon, smiles, shakes his head.

Eddie's chest is too small and too big. He's never had so much in him.

"I've never had that," he muses. "Someone who makes me feel like the ocean."

"Like the ocean," Eddie says. "Yeah."

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER SEVEN

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count — 7k

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving behind the love and they love they worked so hard creating. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — i hope you are all well! let me know your thoughts and preditctions.

masterlist

as the late morning light filtered through their living room, trent wrapped his arms around y/n as she lay nestled against him, her head resting on his shoulder. he watched her fight to keep her eyes open, her hand absently rubbing her bump as she tried to keep up with the quiet conversation between them. he could see the exhaustion starting to weigh on her, how the pregnancy seemed to tire her out faster with each passing day.

“baby,” he whispered, his voice soft as his fingers brushed her cheek. ���how about you sleep with me? just for a bit, before i head out?”

she glanced up, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips, and let out a small sigh of contentment. “only if you’re staying right here,” she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness.

he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “right here, promise. we’ll take a nap together.”

earlier that morning, he'd watched her moving around the house in baggy sweats and a cropped tank, her bump now round and unmistakable, stretching against the fabric. she’d been organizing, moving things around, too determined to get everything in its place before the babies came. but even with her hair a little messy and her cheeks flushed from effort, she looked so beautiful to him, so strong. still, he couldn’t help noticing how every few steps, she’d pause, hands finding her back, and her shoulders slumping, exhaustion clearly tugging at her.

she’d brushed off his suggestion to rest, insisting she was fine and had things to do, but he knew her well enough to see through it. so now, as she settled in his arms, he gently pulled her onto his chest, letting her fully relax against him.

he could feel her breathing start to slow, her body softening, melting into his warmth. as her fingers traced gentle patterns over his chest, he stroked her back, feeling the curve of her body, the slight weight of her belly pressing against him. it was in moments like this that everything felt real, that the love he had for her seemed too big to contain.

with his hand resting over hers on her bump, he murmured, “you don’t have to do it all, you know. just take it easy… you’re carrying our whole world in there.”

she let out a soft hum of agreement, her eyes closed, but there was a small, content smile on her lips. “i know,” she whispered. “i just want everything to be perfect… for them, for you.”

“it already is,” he said, pressing another gentle kiss to her hair. “just being here with you… it’s all i need.”

her hand tightened slightly over his, and he could feel the rhythm of her breathing settle even more. he let his thumb brush small circles over her knuckles, feeling her pulse beneath his fingertips, as if grounding himself in this moment, in her. he closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of her, the quiet weight of their love, and the peaceful anticipation of everything ahead.

there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they found a pocket of calm amidst the whirlwind of their lives. time seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft rise and fall of their breathing, the gentle weight of her against him, and the quiet joy of what they were building together.

the next day their morning had started in the best way possible, wrapped up in each other in bed, the sun barely peeking through the blinds. trent had been soft and sweet, his hands tracing lazy circles along her back, his lips brushing her shoulder as they whispered sleepy good mornings. they’d stayed close like that for hours, just soaking in each other’s presence. after a breakfast in bed that had ended in laughter and syrup-sticky fingers, y/n had suggested they move to the couch for a movie.

“let’s watch a walk to remember,” she’d said with a soft smile, her eyes bright, pulling him into the living room. trent chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked.

“this again?” he teased, smirking. “you’ve watched this movie a thousand times, love. you know how it ends.”

she rolled her eyes, nudging him. “i know, but it’s a classic. besides, it’s comforting.” 

he gave her a playful side-eye, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t argue. instead, he let her settle against his chest as they nestled into the couch, her head on his shoulder, his arm securely wrapped around her. it felt perfect. cozy. he ran his fingers softly along her arm, pressing gentle kisses to her temple.

but a few minutes into the movie, he noticed her body tense under his arm. the shift was subtle at first, like she was trying to ignore something, but then she shifted again, pulling her shoulder away from his kisses, her body inching just out of his hold.

“hey,” he murmured softly, tilting his head down to look at her. “everything okay?”

she crossed her arms over her chest, visibly frustrated, but not at him exactly. “i just… i don’t know. i don’t want to be touched right now.” her voice was clipped, guarded.

trent blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “oh, okay. but… you wanted to cuddle, right?” he asked gently, the hint of confusion softened by his patience. 

she sighed, rolling her eyes as if he should already understand. “that was then, trent. this is now.”

he held back a chuckle, nodding slowly as he scooted away to give her space, though he kept watching her with a gentle curiosity. “right, got it. i’ll just be over here… not touching.” he said with a small, amused smile, hoping a bit of humor might ease whatever tension she was feeling. 

y/n just huffed, her arms still folded tightly as she turned her gaze back to the screen. trent sat beside her in comfortable silence, giving her the room she clearly needed. he turned his attention to the movie, chuckling to himself every so often at the cheesy dialogue, sneaking glances at her, trying to gauge if her mood had shifted again.

but then, just as the opening scenes played out—before anything remotely sad had even happened—he heard the softest sniffle beside him. he looked over, and there she was, eyes already glossy with tears, lips quivering slightly as she blinked up at the screen, her chest rising and falling a bit faster.

“baby… it’s barely started,” trent said softly, keeping his voice light and teasing, but filled with genuine concern as he gently reached for her hand.

she let out a shaky breath, wiping a tear from her cheek, clearly frustrated. “i know,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “i don’t even know why i’m crying, trent. i just… i can’t stop. everything feels… all over the place.”

trent’s heart ached a little at her words, the vulnerability in her expression catching him completely. “oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her slowly, letting her decide if she wanted the closeness. she didn’t pull away this time, instead leaning into him, her fingers clutching onto his shirt like she needed something to ground her.

“it’s the hormones, right?” he said softly, brushing a hand through her hair. “nothing wrong with you at all. it’s just… pregnancy stuff.” 

she looked up at him, her brows pinched in that way they did when she was trying to hold back. “i feel so… i don’t know, trent. like i’m not myself. like i’m losing it. i wanted you here, then i didn’t, and now… i do.” her words came out broken, her voice barely above a whisper.

trent only held her closer, his hand softly rubbing her back, his patience infinite. “love, it’s okay. really. we can go back and forth all day if you need,” he said with a small, reassuring smile. “doesn’t matter what you’re feeling. whatever you need, i’m here. i’ll keep up.”

she sniffled, her fingers curling tighter in his shirt. “i just don’t know what’s wrong with me… we were fine this morning, weren’t we? i was happy, and now… i feel like i’m breaking down over… this.” she gestured vaguely to the screen, her face softening in a self-conscious way, like she was embarrassed.

trent kissed her temple, his voice warm and low. “i think you’re pretty incredible, actually,” he whispered. “carrying all of this, feeling everything so intensely. and if you need to cry during a movie you’ve seen a thousand times, i’m not going anywhere.”

her lips trembled, a soft smile breaking through her teary expression. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, trent.”

he kissed her again, his hand gently tracing her shoulder as he held her. “well, lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

the day started with excitement. y/n had been practically buzzing since breakfast, and trent couldn’t help but smile at the energy she radiated. they sat together in the kitchen, y/n’s hands wrapped around a mug of tea while trent scrolled through his phone.

“so, guess who’s coming over?” she asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with barely contained enthusiasm.

trent looked up from his phone, intrigued. “who?”

“aura!” y/n exclaimed, almost bouncing in her seat. “tyler and his wife are going on an anniversary trip, and we get to watch her for the night!”

trent raised an eyebrow, surprised. “aura? as in… my niece, aura?”

“yes!” she laughed, her excitement only growing. “she’s coming over tonight, and she’ll be sleeping here. i thought it’d be fun for us to take care of her. you know, kind of like a… test run.” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, clearly pleased with herself for coming up with the idea.

trent chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “a test run? for what?”

“parenthood!” y/n said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “i mean, we’re about to have two babies soon, so why not practice with aura? she’s only, what, two and a half? it’ll be good for us to see how we manage with a toddler. besides,” she added with a playful glint in her eyes, “how hard can it be?”

trent smirked, setting his phone down and crossing his arms over his chest. “how hard, indeed. alright, i’m up for the challenge. let’s do it.”

y/n grinned, reaching across the table to give his hand an affectionate squeeze. “we’ve got this. she’s going to love it.”

by 6 p.m., aura was there, tiny pink backpack slung over her shoulder, her big eyes wide with excitement as she waddled into the house, holding tyler’s hand. she looked like a miniature version of her father, her wild curls bouncing as she moved, her small voice chattering non-stop.

“thank you so much for watching her,” tyler said, slightly frazzled but clearly grateful. “she’s got her snacks in her bag, and her bedtime’s at 8 p.m.—well, we try to get her to sleep by then, but good luck with that. oh, and she loves ‘the wheels on the bus.’ just a warning.”

y/n and trent both nodded enthusiastically, waving tyler off with reassuring smiles. aura, meanwhile, was already making herself at home, toddling around the living room as she inspected every corner with curiosity.

“easy peasy,” y/n whispered to trent once tyler had left. she crouched down to aura’s level, her smile wide and warm. “hey, aura! are you ready to have some fun?”

aura looked up at y/n with wide eyes before giggling and running over to the couch, climbing up with surprising agility. “wheels on the bus!” she declared.

trent raised an eyebrow at y/n, who stifled a laugh. “she doesn’t waste time, does she?”

“wheels on the bus, huh?” y/n said, picking up the remote. “alright, aura. we’ll start with a little tv, and then we’ll do some fun activities.”

the next hour passed in a whirlwind of nursery rhymes and toddler chaos. aura, true to her nature, was a bundle of energy—demanding snacks one minute, refusing them the next, asking for different toys, and then promptly getting bored with them. she sang “the wheels on the bus” on repeat, over and over, her tiny voice echoing through the house like a broken record.

trent tried to keep up, offering snacks, building blocks, and even attempting a dance-off at one point to keep aura entertained, but the toddler was relentless. nothing seemed to hold her attention for more than a few minutes. y/n had taken over for a bit, reading her a book, but even that failed after aura decided she’d rather flip the pages herself—at lightning speed.

“how is she still going?” y/n whispered, her eyes wide as aura zoomed across the living room again, running in circles around the coffee table. “she’s like a little tornado.”

trent leaned against the doorframe, watching with a mix of amusement and exhaustion. “i have no idea, but i’m starting to think we underestimated her.”

y/n sighed, glancing at the clock. “it’s only been an hour. i thought we’d be pros at this by now.”

“same,” trent muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. aura suddenly jumped onto the couch again, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she pointed at the tv.

“wheels on the bus!”

y/n’s eyes widened in horror as the opening notes of the familiar song began to play again. “oh no… not again.”

trent burst out laughing. “you said it wouldn’t be that bad. look at us now.”

aura began clapping along with the song, blissfully unaware of the adults slowly losing their minds.

y/n threw her hands up in mock surrender, a laugh bubbling up despite her exhaustion. “i’m hiding,” she whispered dramatically. “i’m not even joking, trent. if i hear that song one more time…”

with that, she tiptoed away, sneaking off down the hallway and into their bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her as she leaned against it, letting out a deep sigh of relief. silence. glorious, wonderful silence.

she slid down to sit on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest as she tried to compose herself. how did parents do this every day?

a few minutes passed before the door creaked open, and trent poked his head in, his face a mixture of amusement and exhaustion. “you’re hiding too, huh?”

y/n looked up, letting out a soft laugh. “i couldn’t take it anymore. i needed a breather.”

trent walked in, closing the door behind him before collapsing onto the bed with a groan. “same. i’ve heard ‘the wheels on the bus’ more times tonight than i have in my entire life.”

y/n snorted, crawling over to join him on the bed. she laid on her side, propping her head up on her hand. “she’s so cute, but wow. i’m exhausted.”

“me too,” trent admitted, closing his eyes as he lay back against the pillows. “and she’s just one kid.”

“one kid,” y/n repeated in disbelief. “how are we going to handle two?”

“we’ve got time to figure it out,” trent said, though there was a faint note of doubt in his voice.

y/n let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “if i hear ‘the wheels on the bus’ one more time, i might lose it.”

trent grinned, reaching over to gently squeeze her hand. “well, look at it this way—if we can survive aura, we can survive anything.”

just as they began to relax, they heard a knock on the door. both of them froze, glancing at each other before they heard a tiny voice calling out.

“uncle trent? auntie y/n? where are you?”

trent groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “i guess break time’s over.”

“let’s just pretend we didn’t hear her,” y/n whispered, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

“she’s relentless,” trent muttered, reluctantly getting up and heading toward the door. but as soon as he opened it, he was met with aura’s wide, expectant eyes.

“what are you doing?” she asked innocently, her hands on her hips like a tiny adult.

trent glanced back at y/n, who was stifling her laughter behind a pillow. “uh… nothing, aura. nothing at all.”

as aura skipped back toward the living room, trent turned to y/n, his expression a mix of exhaustion and amusement. “remind me to never say ‘how hard can it be’ again.”

y/n sat up, shaking her head with a grin. “never again.”

trent shut the door behind aura and collapsed back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. "we are never saying yes to babysitting again. when our kids are born, we should just… I don’t know… leave them on some rich family's porch and live our newlywed lives in peace."

y/n burst out laughing, leaning into him as her shoulders shook. "right? let them raise our kids while we sip cocktails on some beach in the maldives, living our best lives."

trent grinned, pulling her into his side. "exactly. we’ll visit once in a while, just enough to make sure they don’t forget us."

y/n giggled, nuzzling into his chest. "honestly, we’ll probably be too exhausted to even think about it. if aura is anything to go by… we’ll never sleep again."

“oh, we’re doomed,” trent sighed dramatically, but his smile betrayed his lightheartedness. “but at least we’ll have each other, yeah?”

y/n looked up at him, a soft, genuine smile on her face now. “yeah, we will.” she shifted closer, her voice lowering, teasing. “and when we get those rare, precious moments alone… we’ll have lots of fun."

trent's eyes sparkled mischievously as he wrapped his arms around her. "oh, I’m counting on it."

she giggled again, snuggling into him as they both relaxed, the chaos of the night fading away as they enjoyed the peace between them.

it was late, the kind of quiet that settled like a soft blanket over their home. y/n and trent were curled up together on the couch, her head resting on his chest as they mindlessly watched something on tv, neither fully paying attention. they were both so tired yet peaceful, soaking in the rare quiet before the chaos of their twins arriving. y/n shifted slightly, a small, almost unconscious wince passing over her face as her hand went to her belly.

trent noticed immediately, his eyes flickering down to her hand. “hey, you alright?” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her shoulder.

she blinked, almost confused herself, her hand resting over the curve of her stomach as she tried to figure out the sensation. it had been so quick, a little nudge that she’d almost missed it. “i… i don’t know,” she whispered, her brows knitting together in surprise.

and then, there it was again—a tiny, distinct little tap from inside, like a secret meant just for her. her eyes widened, and she looked up at trent, realization dawning as her mouth dropped open. “oh my god… trent… i think… i think they just kicked.”

trent’s eyes lit up, a slow grin spreading across his face, and he scrambled to sit up, both hands immediately coming to rest on her belly, fingers splayed wide. “no way… are you serious?” he whispered, his voice full of wonder.

as if on cue, another gentle nudge pressed against his hand. his mouth dropped open, his expression one of pure awe as he looked back at her, speechless.

that was it; they both broke into the biggest, teary-eyed smiles, their eyes locked in mutual disbelief and wonder. “that’s… that’s them, babe,” he breathed, voice cracking just slightly as the reality of it all washed over him. “they’re really in there… they’re real.”

she nodded, her own eyes brimming with tears, her emotions too tangled to express. she let out a small laugh, sniffling as she reached for his hand, pressing it firmly against her belly as if to share the moment just between the two of them. “i can’t believe it… it’s like they’re saying hi.”

trent pulled her closer, not even bothering to wipe the tears that slipped down his cheeks. his voice was choked as he whispered, “hi, little ones… it’s your dad. can’t wait to meet you both.”

y/n let out a small, shaky laugh, burying her face into his shoulder as the tears finally spilled over, full of a love so intense it left her breathless. “god, trent, they’re actually in there… kicking… our babies.”

he nodded, his own voice rough, kissing the top of her head as he tried to keep himself together, but failed miserably. “our babies,” he repeated, laughing through his tears, brushing his thumb over her cheek to wipe away her tears even as his own kept coming. “you’re doing so amazing, y/n. you’re… you’re incredible.”

they sat there, holding each other, both openly crying, laughing at how ridiculous they probably looked. but in that moment, nothing else mattered—not the chaos of their schedules, the stresses of the future, or anything else in the world. all they knew was that they were here, together, with two little lives that had just announced themselves in the most perfect way.

trent pressed one last kiss to her forehead, his fingers never leaving her stomach as he whispered softly, “can’t wait for you to meet them, love. they’re already so perfect. just like you.”

trent was moving around the house, pulling on his liverpool tech fleece, that one she usually couldn't stop herself from admiring on him. it clung to him just right, a familiar sight that, despite herself, y/n loved to see. his bag sat by the door, toiletries zipped up tight, everything packed and ready for another away match. the reality of it set a quiet weight in her chest—he’d be gone for days, missing the little things, their routines, their tiny moments that were quickly becoming the core of her days.

but she stayed silent, acting distracted, looking over some paperwork on the couch. every time trent passed her to grab something, he’d pause, drop a quick “bye, i love you” or “see you soon,” but she barely responded, nodding absently, her eyes never leaving the papers. her mind was somewhere else, far from the day’s plans or the to-do list in her hand. she just kept thinking about how long he’d be gone, how he’d miss the way the babies kept learning new little things every day, the way they needed him just as much as she did. before, she could shrug it off, let him go without so much ache, but now... she felt like a piece of her was leaving, too.

he paused, eyebrows drawn in as he waited for her to say something, anything, back. “y/n… you know i love you, right?” he tried again, voice edging with a bit of humor as if to coax a smile from her, but she barely lifted her head, just hummed something that sounded like “uh-huh.”

he walked away for a second, grabbing his bag, but returned to her side, looking down at her with a soft, exaggerated sigh. “okay… i love you, y/n.” his voice lingered, as if giving her time to respond.

another “uh-huh.” he tilted his head, crossing his arms, his pout growing. “did you hear me? I. love. you.”

finally, trent walked over to the couch, leaning down with a gentle smile, aiming a kiss toward her, but she turned her cheek just before his lips brushed her. he pulled back, brow raised, studying her in that careful way that was too knowing, too aware. 

“hey,” he murmured, crouching down a bit so they were eye-level, “what’s going on, baby? you’re not gonna kiss me goodbye?” he tried to keep it light, but the hurt was obvious in his voice, like he couldn’t understand why she was pulling away.

she gave him a small shrug, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the corner of a page. “i dunno,” she said, feigning nonchalance, “just... thought you were in a rush.”

trent’s eyes softened, catching the edge of her sadness even in her attempt to hide it. he leaned in closer, not letting her off so easy. “c’mon,” he whispered, slipping a hand to her chin to lift her face gently toward him, “don’t pretend with me. what’s really going on?”

her defenses broke a bit, and she sighed, letting her gaze fall. “it’s just… every time you leave now, it feels harder. before, i could handle it,” she admitted, voice low, almost like she didn’t want to say it out loud. “but now, with the babies… what happens when they need their daddy and he’s just… gone?”

trent’s face softened even more, his expression serious as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “baby, i know it’s hard. i don’t want to be away either, but i’m doing this for us, for them too.” his thumb traced gentle circles on her cheek, grounding her, pulling her out of her worries. “and no matter how far i go, you’re the first thing i’m thinking about, all of you. every minute.”

she bit her lip, glancing up at him with a vulnerable look. “sometimes it feels like it’s just gonna keep getting harder. like one day you’ll come back, and they’ll already be doing something new without you there to see it.”

trent’s heart clenched at her words, at the weight she was carrying alone. he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close despite her hesitation, letting her rest against him. “y/n, every little moment is a part of us,” he murmured, “whether i’m here or not. and when i’m away, i’ll keep reminding them just how much i’m wrapped around their little fingers—yours too.”

she let herself sink into his arms, her hands clutching the fabric of his fleece. “it’s not just them, you know. it’s me too.” her voice was soft, almost a whisper, carrying the weight of her feelings.

trent smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “oh, trust me, i know,” he said, playful but gentle, his eyes full of warmth. “don’t think i didn’t notice you ignoring me. thought you’d get away with it, huh?” he teased, and she laughed quietly against him, her walls slipping a little more. “i love you,” he said firmly, “and i don’t want you ever doubting that, okay?”

he leaned closer, nudging her playfully. “you’re not even gonna say it back?” he asked, faking a wounded look, his lip jutting out in a dramatic pout.

she finally looked up, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “mm, i don’t know. are you sure you deserve it?” she teased, fighting a grin.

his pout deepened, eyes widening as he stared at her with a mockingly hurt expression. “wow. wow here i am, practically professing my undying love, and you… you don’t even have the decency to throw me a ‘love you’ back?”

her smile finally broke through, and she reached out, tugging on the hem of his fleece. “alright, alright… i love you too, trent alexander-arnold” she whispered, barely able to keep from laughing at his dramatic pout.

he softened instantly, leaning down to kiss her cheek with a triumphant little smile. “that’s all i wanted.”

she nodded, managing a small smile as he kissed her properly, slow and warm. as he pulled back, he looked her in the eye, his thumb brushing away the hint of a tear. “i’ll be back before you know it,” he promised, his hand resting on her cheek.

“you’d better be,” she whispered, managing a smile. “i’ll be waiting.”

he lingered just a second longer, pressing one last kiss to her forehead, before finally standing and grabbing his bag, casting her one last look before heading out.

after the match, trent found himself strolling the quiet streets of milan with dom by his side, the city's soft glow and evening crowds buzzing around them. dom was mid-sentence, pointing out a sleek italian shoe store, but trent’s eyes had caught on something else entirely: a boutique with tiny designer outfits displayed in the window. his mind went straight to the twins, and his lips curved up in that undeniable smile—the one he got whenever he thought of them. he nudged dom, nodding toward the shop.

“you really going in there, trent?” dom laughed, eyeing the window with mild amusement. “y/n’s gonna think you’ve lost it, mate.”

“ah, come on,” trent chuckled, “she’s always saying we shouldn’t spoil them yet, ‘cause they’ll grow out of things so fast.” he could practically hear her voice from a few weeks back, playful but firm: “they’re gonna be huge, trent, and outgrow those little outfits before we know it. let’s hold off a bit, yeah?”

but tonight? the temptation to ignore that and pick up a few special things for his little ones was too strong to resist. “but… we know what we are having now,” he reasoned, laughing as he pulled open the door. “besides, it’s milan. why not get them something fancy?”

dom shook his head, but he was grinning too, following trent in. trent was quick to scan the shelves, carefully picking up tiny designer onesies, delicate caps, and soft blankets, already picturing his boys in them.

“gonna go home with a suitcase just for them, aren’t you?” dom teased as trent held up a tiny sweater with such pride.

“maybe,” trent replied, shrugging but grinning all the same. “i mean, how can you not? i just… i want everything to be special for them, you know?”

as they entered the boutique, dom’s amusement turned into outright laughter watching trent’s reaction to the rows of tiny designer clothes. trent’s eyes had practically doubled in size as he spotted a pair of matching baby outfits—a soft, cream-colored onesie with the most delicate lace for a little girl and a classic, navy blue set with tiny buttons for a boy. without even thinking, he reached for both, holding them up with a wide grin, completely lost in imagining his twins wearing them.

“mate, it’s like you’re on a shopping spree for royalty,” dom teased, watching trent turn the onesies over in his hands, grinning like he’d just struck gold. “y/n’s definitely gonna scold you for this one.”

trent laughed, knowing dom wasn’t wrong. he could already hear y/n’s mock-stern voice in his head, reminding him about not going overboard. it took him back to a few weeks before, right after the gender reveal, when she’d put her hand on his arm, eyes soft but firm: “they’re gonna grow so fast, trent. we don’t need a whole closet yet.” she’d playfully poked his chest, adding, “plus, you know they’re gonna be huge, just like their dad.”

but trent couldn’t help himself now. “look at these, dom,” he said, holding up the tiny clothes like he’d discovered the world’s greatest treasure. “i mean… how can i not get them? one day they’ll look back on these, you know? little heirlooms.”

“yeah, little designer heirlooms,” dom smirked, leaning back to enjoy the scene. “i never thought i’d see trent alexander-arnold losing it over baby clothes.”

“laugh all you want, mate,” trent shot back, but he was laughing too, unfazed. “just wait until you see their nursery. y/n’s been the one to keep me in line, but she’ll love these. i just… i want our little girl and boy to have everything.” he gently ran his fingers over the fabric, his mind wandering back to y/n’s growing bump and the soft kick he’d felt under his hand just a few nights ago.

“gonna go home with a suitcase just for them, aren’t you?” dom teased as trent held up a tiny sweater with such pride.

“maybe,” trent replied, shrugging but grinning all the same. “i mean, how can you not? i just… i want everything to be special for them, you know?”

“sounds like you’re already in full dad mode,” dom laughed. “how’s it been, anyway? the whole pregnancy?”

trent’s gaze softened, shifting as he thought of y/n. “honestly, man? she’s an angel. strong as hell. i can’t imagine anyone else doing this with me.” he shook his head, a mixture of awe and love in his eyes. “she’s handling it like it’s nothing, but… i know it’s hard on her. makes me wanna be the best for her, for all of them.”

dom nodded, his expression serious for once. “sounds like she’s lucky to have you too, mate. those boys are gonna have a great dad.”

trent felt a warmth in his chest, a strange but welcome mix of pride and gratitude. “just hope i can live up to all of it.”

with his new stash of tiny clothes packed, he headed back with dom, already envisioning y/n’s face when she saw the little gifts. and as he boarded the plane back, his mind wandered again to her—her laughter, her strength, her determination to keep him grounded even when all he wanted to do was spoil her and their bbabies.

dom nodded, clearly amused but softening a bit at the sight of trent so devoted and ready for the changes ahead. “you’re really gone, aren’t you?”

trent glanced up, smiling. “absolutely. i want them to know, from day one, they’ve got us—me and y/n. she’s made everything feel… possible, you know? her strength is insane as hell, that one.”

dom gave him a nod, acknowledging the emotion in trent’s voice, and offered a small smile. “they’re lucky kids, trent. lucky to have both of you.”

with his shopping bags filled and his heart full, trent couldn’t wait to get back and show y/n. he could picture her face, the way she’d light up at the thought of their twins in the carefully chosen outfits, and even the little laugh she’d give him as she pretended to be cross with him. in the end, though, she’d know just how much he cared—and how he’d been counting down every second to be back with her and their babies.

trent steps through the front door, dropping his bags as quietly as he can. he knows it’s late, but that doesn’t stop the wide smile spreading across his face as he sees y/n coming down the stairs, her face lighting up the moment she sees him. she moves as fast as she can, waddling into his arms, and he scoops her up, pressing a long kiss to her lips as he holds her close.

“missed you,” he murmurs against her lips, grinning when she nods, a sleepy smile on her face.

“missed you more.” she nuzzles into his chest, taking in his scent, the faint smell of his cologne, the hint of travel exhaustion. they stand there for a long moment, just holding each other, both soaking up the comfort of being back together.

but then y/n’s eyes drift down to the bags he’s brought in and land on an unexpected sight—a second suitcase, one she doesn’t recognize.

“what’s… that?” she asks, her brow arching as she points at the extra bag, suspicion creeping into her voice.

trent glances down, and for a split second, his face gives him away. “oh, that? uh, it’s nothing.” he starts to push it behind him with his foot, but y/n’s eyes narrow playfully.

“nothing?” she crosses her arms, giving him a look. “you don’t usually need an extra suitcase, trent. you pack like, one hoodie and think you’re sorted for a week.”

he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances at the bag, trying to downplay it. “well… i might’ve… done a little shopping while i was there.”

“shopping?” she echoes, suspicion morphing into amusement as she moves to grab the suitcase, but he’s quicker, pulling it away. “for what?”

“for our little ones,” he says, a sheepish grin creeping onto his face.

her jaw drops slightly, and she lets out a dramatic sigh, hands on her hips as she shakes her head. “trent! we said we’d wait until they were closer to coming before we started buying clothes… they’re growing at superhuman speed, remember?”

he nods, looking more guilty than ever, but there’s a glimmer of excitement in his eyes that he can’t hide. “i know, i know… but y/n, i was in milan. and you know they’ve gotta be fresh… our babies have to look on point from the start.”

she rolls her eyes, fighting back a laugh. “fresh? trent, they’re barely the size of a pineapple right now.”

“exactly,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow, “and they need to be the freshest pineapples anyone’s ever seen.”

she lets out a little huff, tapping her finger on her chin as if seriously considering his reasoning. “right… except, remember we talked about saving a little for later? you know, in case you spend all your money?”

a smug smile crosses his face, and he steps closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “first of all it’s our money and please, y/n. look at us. do we look like we’re gonna run out anytime soon?”

she can’t help but snort at his confidence, rolling her eyes again. “maybe not right now, but what happens when we do, huh? i’ll have to find someone richer than you.”

he raises a brow, his smile turning into something darker as he steps closer, backing her up against the counter. his voice drops low, almost a purr. “oh yeah? someone richer?”

she grins, still teasing, hands pressing against his chest to keep a little distance between them. “mhm. someone who doesn’t go overboard and buy out entire stores before the babies are even here.”

his eyes narrow, a playful glint flickering in them, and before she can react, he grabs her waist, pulling her flush against him, his voice a soft challenge. “try me. i dare you.” his hand slides down, giving her a firm smack on her bum, making her jump and laugh.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, feigning innocence, though her pulse skips at the way he’s looking at her.

“it means,” he murmurs, leaning in close enough that his lips brush against her ear, “you’re not going anywhere, baby. so, you better get used to me spoiling you—and them—rotten.”

she feels her cheeks heat up as he leans back, watching her with a smug grin, and she scoffs, trying to keep her composure. “oh, so sure of yourself, are we?”

his hands slide to her hips, his thumbs grazing over her bump as he gives her a long, slow look. “absolutely.” he gives her a quick kiss, then leans back, smirking as he takes in the flustered look on her face. “besides, you’d never find someone who’d love our kids as much as i do… or someone who’d take care of you and your insatiable sex drive.” his eyes gleam with mischief as he steps back, looking far too pleased with himself.

she rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “we’ll see about that.”

he chuckles, grabbing her again and pulling her closer. “oh, we will,” he whispers, his mouth brushing over her neck before he kisses her again, slower this time, leaving no room for doubt. “and trust me, baby you’re not finding anyone better than this.”

they lay together in the dim glow of their room, the soft rustle of the sheets wrapping around them like a cocoon. trent’s arm draped lazily over y/n’s shoulders, his fingers gently playing with her hair as they basked in the afterglow of their intimacy. their skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, the heat between them a comforting reminder of the connection they had just shared. the world outside faded into a distant hum, leaving just the two of them in their own little paradise.

as they settled into the quiet, y/n felt a warmth radiate from trent, a steady heartbeat beneath her ear that calmed her racing thoughts. she shifted slightly, glancing up at him, taking in the way the light danced across his features, illuminating the love and strength she had always admired.

they lay together in the dim glow of their room, the soft rustle of the sheets wrapping around them like a cocoon. trent’s arm draped lazily over y/n’s shoulders, his fingers gently playing with her hair as they basked in the afterglow of their intimacy. the world outside faded into a distant hum, leaving just the two of them in their own little paradise.

“you know,” she began, her voice soft and thoughtful, “we’ve come a long way to come back to ourselves. an even better version of us.”

trent smiled down at her, his eyes glimmering with affection. “we really have, haven’t we? it’s been a hell of a journey, but i wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

a playful smile crossed y/n’s lips as she remembered the way they navigated the chaos of impending parenthood, supporting each other through the ups and downs. “i just feel like… with everything happening, and the twins coming… it’s like we’re at this turning point.”

“yeah?” trent prodded, raising an eyebrow, intrigued by where her thoughts were leading. “what do you mean?”

y/n took a deep breath, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. she thought about how close they had become, how much she cherished every moment they spent together. it felt like they were already more than just partners; they were a family. and yet, there was one more step she couldn’t shake from her mind.

“i’ve been thinking about how we’re starting this new chapter in our lives,” she said slowly, her eyes locking onto his. “and how we’re going to raise our kids together.”

“yeah, it’s going to be amazing,” he replied, a soft smile spreading across his face. “they’re going to have the best parents.”

y/n felt her pulse quicken as she continued, “and i know we’ve talked about the future, about how we want to be there for each other and for them. but i can’t help but think—”

“think what?” he prompted, his expression shifting to one of intense curiosity.

she bit her lip, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. she could see the love in his eyes, the way he was so fully present, and she felt a rush of determination. this was it. this was the moment to say it out loud, to make it real. 

“let’s get married.” 

© PDRIESTA 2024

[iamfarfromvibingrightnow]

Hi dear donors ! ❤️

I would like to extend my thank and gratitude for the support you have been offering over the last eleven months. ❤️☺️

My family and I have been suffering and going through the hardest days we have ever experienced in our life . Things are very hard to get and and sometimes unattainable.😭😓

Our sufferings and hardship started on the first days of the war when all our possessions were completely destroyed and burned. We have become displaced and homeless , finding ourselves in a small tent in streets with no means of life. We lack every single necessary thing of life; food, water, hygiene essentials, and other necessities have become scarce and rare.

A photo taken to show how incredibly harsh our life has become after the war. We are struggling and facing lots of barriers to obtain the simplest necessities for living. Everything single thing is a complete story.

You can't imagine what difficulties we have been going through all these days of war. No cooking gas , nor cooking tools exist . We struggle to prepare a small meal of food.

No bakeries are available. Everything seems a miracle and unbelievable.😭 The war has stolen our joy and smile, leaving us busy thinking only of staying safe and alive. Our future has gone with the wind and our kids lost their dreams and ambitions.

This is a part of burying the dead. We also face some problems in the process of buying our dead people as no place is there for the family. Tombs aren't enough for the number of people living on a small spot of land.

A photo taken for the morning queue of filling our gallons with drink water. We wait hours to get some water for drink. Our life is full of tragedy and sadness.

All what we need is to survive the war and be safe. We are trying to secure the daily basic living necessities and this can come true with your contribution and support. Please don't spare this moment of supporting the people in need in Gaza in this tough and dire time. You can help us by either donating however small it is or sharing my posts. Your support makes a big difference for families in need.

[d-fergi]

Hi dear donors ! ❤️

I would like to extend my thank and gratitude for the support you have been offering over the last eleven months. ❤️☺️

My family and I have been suffering and going through the hardest days we have ever experienced in our life . Things are very hard to get and and sometimes unattainable.😭😓

Our sufferings and hardship started on the first days of the war when all our possessions were completely destroyed and burned. We have become displaced and homeless , finding ourselves in a small tent in streets with no means of life. We lack every single necessary thing of life; food, water, hygiene essentials, and other necessities have become scarce and rare.

A photo taken to show how incredibly harsh our life has become after the war. We are struggling and facing lots of barriers to obtain the simplest necessities for living. Everything single thing is a complete story.

You can't imagine what difficulties we have been going through all these days of war. No cooking gas , nor cooking tools exist . We struggle to prepare a small meal of food.

No bakeries are available. Everything seems a miracle and unbelievable.😭 The war has stolen our joy and smile, leaving us busy thinking only of staying safe and alive. Our future has gone with the wind and our kids lost their dreams and ambitions.

This is a part of burying the dead. We also face some problems in the process of buying our dead people as no place is there for the family. Tombs aren't enough for the number of people living on a small spot of land.

A photo taken for the morning queue of filling our gallons with drink water. We wait hours to get some water for drink. Our life is full of tragedy and sadness.

All what we need is to survive the war and be safe. We are trying to secure the daily basic living necessities and this can come true with your contribution and support. Please don't spare this moment of supporting the people in need in Gaza in this tough and dire time. You can help us by either donating however small it is or sharing my posts. Your support makes a big difference for families in need.

Shared.

[babyboybuckley]

Ok I would like to say something but it's a bit heavy so I'm gonna say it in the tags

[imflyingfish]

Its weird because i dont actually have much of a desire to move to france or use french reguarly in my life but at this point ive deadicated over a year to learning it so i might as well keep going and finish

[makerscockandballs]

new apartment suddenly felt more like a home. I'd like to feel like I belong to the place I inhabit and I think I am getting there...

[bookwyrminspiration]

girl help the mindless media is consuming me. girl why are you laughing I can’t remember what my interests are

[lucybellwood]

Lemme tell you a gay little story about an eagle.

Our town (~9,000 people) has a couple garages, but there's a big one on the main drag. My family has been going there for decades. I drive past it every day.

There used to be a huge pine tree on the corner of their lot, but last year it became a hazard and had to be taken down.

Shortly thereafter I drive by and see they've hired a guy to chainsaw sculpt the stump into a bald eagle.

Birds own my heart, but nationalism makes me twitchy. I withhold outright condemnation of the eagle, but I'm skeptical. (The original owner—an objectively Good Dude—sold the business to a younger couple a few years ago, and I don't have any knowledge of their whole deal.)

Then it turns out someone on staff is really into making costumes for the eagle. Every holiday. Every month. Stuffed turkey, witch costume, menorah headpiece, bunny ears. These people love to dress their bird.

The changing of the eagle suit becomes a source of joy every time I drive through town.

Until June, when the eagle is bare.

Now look, maybe I'm expecting too much asking my garage to celebrate Pride. But this is a small town. Every time I drive by that stupid eagle—this thing that has previously brought me so much joy—I feel hurt. I feel reminded that there are plenty of people in my liberal bubble who don't consider my community worthy of celebration. I drive to work, I feel bad. I drive home, I feel bad. The eagle is mocking me.

Then my A/C quits working.

So I book an appointent to bring my car in—and realize what I have to do.

I pick all this up at a thrift store for under ten bucks. I print the shirt with some weird heat-transfer fabric crayons I find in a cupboard. I loop gold elastic around the sunglasses and pray they'll fit on the eagle's head. (It is also important to draw your attention to the price of the feather boa.)

(Nice.)

My reasoning is thus: if I show up with a complete costume ready to go, someone will have to look me in the eye and say "We don't believe in that," at which point I'll be finding a new garage. But if they let me dress the eagle, then people in town get to have the joy I've been missing since the start of the month.

I listen to a lot of hype-up jams on my way over. I hate confrontation. I also don't wanna have to find another garage. I want to believe that this decision isn't actively antagonistic, but I'm not particularly hopeful.

I talk through the A/C issue with the guy at the desk, hand over my keys, then take a deep breath.

"Who's in charge of the eagle?"

"Oh, that's all Dylan. Second bay from the end."

I walk down the row of hydraulic lifts and find a disarmingly smiley middle-aged man pouring fluid through a funnel. I introduce myself and explain that, since the Pride parade is this Sunday and the eagle seems to be missing a costume, I have taken the liberty of making one myself, and can I get his blessing to go put it on?

Dylan grins this absolutely giant grin and goes

"Oh hell yeah."

So that's what's up now.

Happy Pride.

[screamingintothejellyfishbloom]

"What brings me joy is life. I think you can find joy anywhere, in life. I think it’s a conscious choice. I think you choose joy, in life. And no matter how bad things are, no matter how crummy, no matter how dark, you find joy. I find joy whatever I do. I don’t always do things right, and I don’t always do things smart. But whatever I do, I find joy in it. Because, at the end of the day, that’s all you got, is looking back on the joy you had and the joy you found and the joy you gave other people." - Merle, The Adventure Zone: Balance

[idk-what-im-doing-ever]

I thought everything would largely be cool and good once I got a job with the company/business I wanted. But it turns out you can still get burnout doing something you want and that is Infuriating. So now I just want to see if I can work four days a week instead of five but, in this cost of living era? Not fucken likely.

What a curse it is, to have such financial obligations just to live.