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#i took a four hour nap today
monbons · 2 months
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WIP Wednesday
Thanks for the tag @thewholelemon!
I feel your pain on just making progress. Perhaps it will make you feel better to know that I am also just throwing words into a document and seeing what sticks?
I keep promising to start posting The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, but the further I get the more I realize that I may need to finish at least a rough draft of every chapter before I can post the first chapter. Why?
I am still actively avoiding the slow burn. Evidence below:
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If they never become SnowBaz, we don't have a story now do we?
2. The closer I get to writing the climax of this story, the more I realize it's going to be harder to land this plane than I thought. I'm still on track, but when your premise involves word games, curses, and a non-chron plot, you gotta make sure the math is mathin' - know what I mean?
3. This is really just an extension of the above, but I already had to go in and significantly revise two chapters by chopping up later chapters for parts. Both revisions were necessary and absolutely improved the flow of the story, but it does mean I can expect it to keep happening.
I just started Spring Break today (woohoo!), so here's hoping I can exorcise myself of this fic with a finished first draft before break is over. The pile of grading on my desk that I've ignored while cranking out words is not getting any smaller!
Here are some words for you. Thanks for sticking with me!
Hampshire, England  February 22, 1708 The boy with the silky black hair is running—crashing—into the woods. His lungs burn and his legs ache, but he can barely hear the voices calling to him anymore. Can’t see the eyes always on him. Expecting. Judging. He can only sense the ancient trees looming ahead, hear the chirping of birds and the familiar babbling of the brook that he knows is nearby. A destination.
No pressure at all tags below the cut!
@emeryhall, @noblecorgi, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @valeffelees, @beastmonstertitan, @roomwithanopenfire, @raenestee, @youarenevertooold, @arthurkko, @iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe
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ace-geographer · 1 year
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My exhaustion and delirium are simply no match for my astronomical levels of Willow brain rot
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Part 13/?
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ormymarius · 1 month
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I need to stop sleeping so much….
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milo-is-rambling · 2 months
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I wish I had friends near meeeeeee to distract me from my brainnnnnnnnnn
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#need to talk to anyone irl who isn’t related to me or dating my mom or my therapist#anyone else near me please I’m losing my mind#nature isn’t healing me sleeping in a fully dark room all day isn’t healing me how do I magically fix this without having to put any work#into it oh I can’t oh u have to do the work okay how do I do that. therapy once a week. oh. okay. yup.#can I speedrun it? oh no? I can’t. oh damn. okay fine whatever. therapy once a week. AND I HAVE TO ACTUALLY LISTEN AND DO WHAT SHE SAYS. bro#what the hell okay fine#well here I am !!!!! where is the fixing where is the feeling better I feel like all I do is stir up all these touch emotions from every#part of my life at once and then she sends me off to rot for week before I come back and talk again#I just feel like I’m losing it!!!!! and ik it’s extra bad bc birthday countdown is on in my brain and im stressed and i feel like a huge#fuck up that can never be fixed and like I will die having done nothing with my life except weigh other people down and so exhausting and my#brain won’t ever shut up like yes I get it years and years and years of built up shit that I never properly dealt with and still hold blame#for constantly and I feel like I will never be fixed like I CANT be fixed like this is a losing battle and I just am struggling today man#idk what I was saying I just took my morning weed hit to try and relax my back a little and now my brain is like scrambled eggs#which is good that means it’s working#I’m gonna try to take a nap maybe cause I only slept four hours and it was like choppy thru the night and then maybe I’ll go to the lake#later I’ve been feeling the need to be in a body of water recently
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crybaby-bkg · 1 year
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tomorrow is my last day of having to do work for my classes and I’m just soooo ready for this upcoming break. I wanna write for an entire day at a time again and learn how to crotchet without putting so many expectations to be perfect the first time again!!!! I wanna paint and play my switch and just lay down without feeling guilty!!!!! I need it!!!!!!!
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stinkrascal · 1 year
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i dont remember falling asleep yet here i am 🛌
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muaical art oc challenge
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#so for the last like. as long as i can remember. ive had a shit sleep schedule#mostly like sleep all day and stay up all night kinda shit#but i got sick/burnt out recently and slept for almost two days straight#and somehow it reset my sleep schedule to something normal#like i went to bed at 10pm and woke up at 5am for the last few days#and i havent had to nap#and the not needing to nap is really fucking with me#like im used to waking up. feeding my dog. and then napping until i go to work#i should be napping rn. but im not tired#i dont have to get ready for work for another four hours and ive already been awake for three hours#i went to the coffee shop and to walgreens. im in real clothes instead of pajamas. i did a load of laundry#im laying in bed (its so hot i might be dying) and i just. dont know what to do with my time#im probably gonna do some cleaning and packing because im moving in two months#idk im just feeling some strange type of way because for the last few days ive been. alive#instead of sleeping my life away#its so strange. i got sick. slept for a few days. and now my biggest problem is just fixed? and i can have a life now?#its 70 degrees today and the world is my oyster. what should i do?#i have a list of chores im gonna do. i might walk to the coinstar machine so ill have money#yeah i want to do that cuz im in the negatives in my bank account but i want to get a cool drink before work today#my dad texted me this morning 'noticed your bank account is overdrawn for the second time this week. whats going on kid?'#which is such a sad text to get because i know im broke. thanks dad. lets pls ignore my financial hardships#if you want to make my dad less sad hmu for my venmo /hj#anyways ill probs do that today. get some cash so i can get a frozen lemonade from wawa or something#yknow that post thats like 'seasonal depression seems fake until its 50 degrees in march and it feels like you took a party drug'#i think thats partially whats happening here. its 70 degrees and sunny and my systems dont know what to do with that#i hope youre all having a great day that you dont sleep through. i love you!!
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tearsfill · 1 year
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Do you ever just stare at your dog like “how the hell do you have the energy for all of that”
#mabel is a 15 year old patterdale terrier. here’s a sample of things she’s done today:#• walked to the park; made a couple of circuits and walked back (a total of 1km walked according to pokemon go)#• been out in the garden four times and pulled me around like a lunatic#• went for a walk with my mom at the crack of dawn (which knowing both of them will have been a serious walk)#• paced. SO much. around and around and around#• leaped onto the armchair; climbed on its arm so she could see out of the window; seen someone walking past and LEAPED down and ran to the#door thinking they were coming here. none of them were#• tried to escape past me in the twenty seconds it took me to accept a delivery. when i grabbed her collar she did her best to pull me#who is more than 200lbs and 6’1 out of the door with her & almost succeeded#• climbed on me; stood on the bony part of my hip and tried to steal my cheese string#• stole my cheese string wrappers and my sandwich plate (neither of which she could do much with as she has exactly six teeth#and the plate was empty)#• followed me around while i dusted the living room; opened my packages; threw away packaging; made lunch; etc etc#basically every time i get up she LEAPS up too#she’s finally just slumped in the chair and my only question is why it took so long#like she literally just spent four hours not just awake but also doing THE MOST#i don’t know what’s in her arthritis pills but do they make it for humans? 🥲#she is ~105 in dog years and i am 26 in human years and i know which of us is more athletic. and it’s not me#it’s a lot. anyway. i’m going to make the most of the fact that she’s napping now & will (hopefully) eat my pringles#without having any of them stolen or being watched#personal
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whimsyprinx · 1 year
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I’ve had (am having) a little cry about things and discussing them with people and I feel a bit better
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wooahaes · 2 years
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my brain is pretty much mush but i think i wrote enough of the fic for tomorrow that i can probably finish it and schedule it
if i write anything after that? who knows. ive got shit to do for monday so i’d like to try and get another fic done but aaaAAA tired.
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usedtobecooler · 2 years
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okay but what about virgin eddie being eager to please and the reader showing him the ropes and he’s just naturally so good at it :( i need it :(
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oh anon what are you doing to me!
part one // part two // part three // part four
Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering f receiving, cumming in pants, corruption kink, reader really likes that eddie is a virgin, car sex, dubious content (i think? reader rubs up against him without consent?), dirty talk, lots of eddie being called pretty and handsome!!
Word Count | 2.8K
A/N | i really took this and ran with it, god damn!! virgin!eddie just does things to me the boy is SO corruptible. i need help, jesus and a nap after this.
You sort of knew he was at least inexperienced from the get go. You'd met working at the local record store and doing the late shifts together. You never missed the way he'd get so flustered any time you'd pay him a compliment.
'Eddie you look so nice today', 'wow Eddie you should wear your hair up more often it looks good', or when you'd greet him with a 'hey handsome' or 'hey pretty boy' and he'd stumble over his words and go beet red. You could tell he didn't really get chicks, it was obvious by the way that all he could talk about on Monday mornings were his D&D campaigns that he played with literal sophomores.
Twenty year olds who barely skim by to graduate after their third year repeat of senior year didn't get babes. He knew that, you knew that. But you were so attracted to him anyway, you got a sick thrill out of how easy it was to panic him and make him blush.
You gave Eddie a ride home from work every night, the trailer park was a fair few miles from the shop and his van went bust a few months prior so it was sat like an antique with grass growing around it just outside his front door. Wayne made a point of complaining about it a lot when you were in earshot.
'Either fix the damn thing or get the piece of crap towed away. I know we live in a trailer park but we sure as shit ain't tramps.'
So yeah. He wasn't necessarily a lady killer but he was just so pretty to look at and it made your stomach do funny jumps. He was so passionate too, he could talk for hours about his guitar or Lord of the Rings and he remembered every little detail. Soaked in everything you'd ever say and remember it for next time.
So sue you. You liked Eddie 'the freak' Munson who was just the sweetest, prettiest boy you'd ever met. And you needed to corrupt him.
You were subtle to begin with. When you'd shuffle by him in the store you'd make sure to get as close to him as possible as if the space was just too tight for anymore room. You'd lay a hand on his waist to brush past, lightly dance your fingers on his shoulder. 'Whoops, sorry' you'd say when your ass would brush past his dick, you'd pretend not to notice his flustered look and his stumbling words.
It all came to a head on one Saturday night as you were driving Eddie home. Dio's Holy Diver playing as background noise. You bonded over your love of the same bands too, you'd occasionally catch his eyes go all gooey when you'd talk about Metallica. You couldn't help but notice the ways his eyes would wander over your chest, where a band shirt would usually be sitting. The way he'd look at your legs in your fishnets and tight skirts. Stutter when you'd catch him and give him a wink.
But anyway, this particular Saturday you'd asked if he wanted to go to a fast food joint for some burgers before going home. You were, admittedly, starving after bailing on lunch in favour of helping Eddie with the new shipment of vinyl that had came in.
Eddie was a gentleman, offering to pay for the burgers since you'd been driving him home and who were you to refuse a free meal. He took them to go so you could drive to a place somewhere quiet and eat in silence.
You drove up to a spot you went to occasionally when you needed some time to sit and relax on your own. It was essentially an old junk yard full of shitty banger cars but nobody ever came out here and it was nice for watching the stars on a clear night.
You eat your burgers mostly in silence, both of you chomping down like you hadn't eaten in days. You're sat in a silky leopard print skirt, fishnets all torn around your inner thighs from them rubbing together all day. You sit really unladylike, legs open and comfortable.
You catch Eddie peaking again.
"Eddie, sweetheart, its only a pair of thighs." You say quietly, breaking the comfortable silence in favour of embarrassing him, "You see them everyday."
Eddie flusters a little, mouth still full of burger but he stops chewing and goes bright red, floundering for words, "S-sorry, uh, fuck I can't help but look. Your tights are all torn." He points out, motioning towards the large holes.
"Babe, you can't honestly tell me that's the reason you were looking," You say, balling up your fast food paper and tossing it in the back without looking, "you're trying to catch a glimpse of my princess parts."
A laugh bubbles out of your mouth at the use of those words, only using them to tease Eddie and his seemingly virginal ways. Worried if you call it a pussy he'll open the door and flee.
"Uh, eh, I wouldn't know much about that," Eddie cringes at his own words, he can't even look at you and it's just so endearing, "I can't say I've ever seen one."
You gawp a little bit. Taken aback by his confession.
"What do you mean, Eddie?" You ask, the teasing way in your voice only coming out just a smidge now, "You've never...?"
"God, don't make me say it, sweetheart," Eddie grimaces, tossing the last of his burger on the dashboard, hunger long forgotten at the embarrassing conversation, "I'm a twenty year old virgin. Laugh all you want, you should."
"I'm not gonna laugh," You say, all too quickly, "I just can't believe no girl, or guy maybe, has ever pinned you down and just ridden the shit out of you. You're really hot, Eddie. I mean, really hot."
Eddie's cheeks flush so dark they're almost purple and suddenly he's shuffling awkwardly in his seat next to you, like he's trying to cover himself from you.
"Hey pretty boy," Your voice is barely above a whisper now, you lean over and tug at his arm to get him to turn to you again, "I find that kinda... hot."
Eddie scoffs at that but lets you move his arm, your fingers beginning to dance down it, edging closer to his wrist, "Yeah, right. You don't have to lie to me I know it's ridiculous. Who the fuck is still a virgin at this age unless it's by choice?"
"Means you're all kinds of corruptible, handsome." You're not teasing anymore, bringing your hand further down to drag your fingers over his knuckles, "Makes me kinda hot and bothered."
"Oh, oh right," Eddie sucks in a breath and shudders, Jesus Christ this guy has no game and it's so fucking cute you're about to burst. Your cunt is twitching already just thinking about ruining him.
"Maybe I could show you the ropes? Y'know? How to touch a girl an' get her going?" You suggest, and you can see the goosebumps littering Eddie's arms, "Obviously so that when you find a girl you really like you can wow her."
A strangled little noise caught between a whimper and a sigh escapes Eddie's lips, his head thumps back against the headrest on his seat, displaying his gorgeous expanse of neck, the veins protruding in ways you can't ignore. Admittedly, he's already got you going without even having to touch you, and you know now that you're fucked.
"You gotta say yes or no, handsome. Just so I know you're into this and I'm not adding two plus two and getting five," Your voice is gentle as you finally grip hold of Eddie's wrist gently, dragging it over to rest on your inner thigh. His fingers flex on the skin, gripping ever so slightly, making you exhale a shaky little moan.
"I, uh, I would like to. But I'm gonna be shit, no point denying it," Eddie barks out a little sarcastic laugh, his brows furrowing together.
"Oh, honey," You giggle, "you're a guitar player. Those fingers already know what to do without me having to show them. I'll just tell you what to do, where to press, how fast I like it, how hard. Can you listen to me and do that?"
You chance a glance down at his crotch and can see the thick outline of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. Your mouth practically starts salivating, already eager to know just exactly how it looks. In your daydreams it was big, but looking now in the dim light at his concealed erection, it was obvious just how big it truly was.
You get up from your seat, shuffling a little so you can swing a leg over and perch yourself in Eddie's lap, gasping a little when you sink down just enough to rub your cunt along his hardness. Eddie bites down on his lip, a strangled, breathy moan leaving him.
"This okay?" You ask, just to make sure, and he's nodding so fast he could get whiplash. You take ahold of Eddie's right hand again, sliding it under your skirt to let his palm rest lightly over your pussy, letting him feel the heat and the damp patch that's formed in your cotton panties so quickly, "You've done this to me already and you haven't even touched me yet."
"Really? Shit," Eddie looks up at you with wide brown eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. He's so eager, letting his fingers run over your clothed folds, dipping a finger in between experimentally and smiling a little when you moan, "Can I, uh, can I move your panties out of the way?"
"Go for it, handsome. Get a good feel." You're back to smirking again, but not for long when Eddie hooks two fingers into the elastic of your panties and pull them to the side, exposing your puffy little cunt to the cold air. You gasp when two hot fingers rub between your lips, catching on your clit just barely, "Okay, can you find where my clit is?"
Eddie nods eagerly, running his fingers back up and pressing on that little hard bundle of nerves, his cock twitching at the feeling of your slick in between his fingers, "There, right?" He asks, just to make sure, but it's obvious by the way you bite your lip and whine.
"Yes there, fuck, Eddie if you do good for me this really isn't gonna last long," You admit, throwing your head back a little, "just rub me there in small circles, I like it fast."
Eddie's fingers start to almost expertly rub you in circular motions, his calloused fingertips catching and dragging your clit in the most delicious way. You turn into a whining mess quite quickly, especially when his free hand comes up to grab at the meat of your thigh to hold you in place.
"God, handsome, you're really good at this, uh," You choke on your own tongue when he speeds up a little, "wanna use that free hand and slip your fingers in me?"
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, glossy eyes dancing a little, "you sure?"
You nod excitedly, knees buckling a little when you feel his hand come up under your skirt, the pads of two fingers swirling around your entrance. You can't believe he's never done this before, you half expected him to not even know where your hole was never mind anything else. He looks into your eyes, raising his brows a little in a silent question and you nod again.
Eddie sinks his fingers in all the way to the hilt immediately and it makes you gasp, the breach unexpected but certainly not unpleasant. A nice stretch, the cold of his thick rings on the rim of your cunt making you shiver, "Pump them in and out of me and try to find a, Jesus, a rhythm that matches your fingers on my clit."
"Does this feel good?" Eddie asks, and it's clearly meant to be in earnest but it sends hot flushes all up your spine, his long fingers beginning to pump in and out of you slowly.
"God, yeah, yeah it does, Eddie." You whine, hips having a mind of their own and helping him with the process, helping his fingers sink in and out, "Crook them a lil, you'll find a soft spot, kinda feels like a sponge."
Eddie's brows furrow together, his fingers starting to falter both inside of you and on your clit as he tries to find a rhythm. It comes back to him quickly, both of his fingers sunk deep in your cunt crooking ever so slightly and finding your gspot almost immediately.
You choke out a moan that sounds wet, like you're about to cry, "Fuck, right there, handsome. Keep doing that, m'gonna cum."
His fingers are heavenly dancing inside of you. His assault on your clit is hard and fast and soon enough you're so wet that you can feel it running out of you, probably slicking Eddie's hand, wrist and arm with creamy slick, "How does it feel for you, Eddie?"
You're looking at each other and the lust is apparent in Eddie's face, the way his brown doe eyes are hazily watching you, "Feels so good. Your pussy feels like heaven on my fingers, you're so tight."
"Fuck, dirty talking already are we?" You almost squeal, a hot flush taking over your whole body as you chase your orgasm, "Love hearing dirty words coming from your mouth about me, keep going."
Eddie leans forward, hot mouth kissing and sucking wetly at your tits, your collarbones, your neck, "Y'like that? Like my fingers in you? You're whining like a little slut."
You fucking lose it at being called a slut, the mixture of his hands, his mouth and the obscene slicking sounds coming from your cunt have your legs buckling, your stomach twisting as you reach your high, cumming so hard that your pussy constricts and grips at Eddie's fingers tightly, a loud moan slipping from your mouth, hands automatically coming up to grip at his curls as your hips fuck back and forth, riding out your orgasm.
You're sensitive, shivering a little as Eddie rubs you through the last of it, so you rest a gentle hand on his wrist to let him know to stop. He stops immediately, long fingers sliding out of your cunt slowly as not to startle you.
"Was - was that okay?" He asks, looking at you again with those gorgeous, stupid doe eyes, the nervousness back and apparent in his voice. You're all orgasm stupid, barely able to keep your eyes open, so you lean forward and smash your lips onto his, greedily lapping your way into his mouth with your tongue as a way of confirming it was good.
Eddie's big hands come to encircle around your waist, deepening the kiss. So, okay, he's not the best kisser just yet but you can show him that too. It's sloppy and wet and everything you need right this second.
Your hips begin to rub along the length of Eddie's still painfully hard cock straining in his pants, you put down enough weight to grind perfectly against him, your sensitive clit loving the friction of the thick denim running against it.
"Wha-" Eddie pulls away from your lips, confusion on his face turning to ecstasy, a moan escaping him. Fuck, he's so loud it's making you flutter.
"Was gonna try an' get a hand on your cock but that can be for another day," You hum, hips still gliding back and forth roughly, "wanna see you cum in your pants, though."
"Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea what you're - uh, god - what you're doing to me," Eddie's whimpering, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, matting down his fringe, "m'gonna cum, shit, shit, I'm cumming."
You watch every bit of it, the way the veins in his neck pop, his eyes squeezing shut as he vibrates against you, fingers squeezing you so hard it'll bruise. Fuck, he's so pretty you want to die, you can't believe you're the first person to make him cum and you didn't even have to lay a hand on him.
When Eddie eventually opens his eyes, the blush is back on his cheeks, as if he's mortified by what he just did, "Damn, twenty years old and I just came in my pants like a teenager."
"It was hot, pretty boy," you sigh, leaning down to peck his lips, "I'll get a hand on you soon though, I need that thick cock everywhere on me."
He whines at that, hips bucking up of their own accord, "Fuck, you dunno what you're doing to me, sweetheart."
"Corrupting you, Eds. And you're gonna love every fucking minute."
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trashcanfanfics · 1 year
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i would like to ask an imagine ir headcannons about Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Vox and Blitzø when their s/o tells them "i love you" for the first time
I think I did something like this for Alastor and Vox in an overlord headcanon ask but I'll do them for Angel, Husk, and Blitz :)
Edit: I can't fuckin believe I forgot Husk goddammit
Angel Dust:
You were tired after a very long day of just trying to go to the store to stock up the hotel kitchen. Charlie had unfortunately made you the unlucky soul to go out to do it. You found it hard to hate her, but in this moment you disliked her extremely. The car you'd been loaned was stolen and you had to try and carry everything back on your own. No one from the hotel was answering their phone, except your boyfriend who was on the other side of the Pentagram for a show. So you were on your own and completely fucked.
Hours later, you've been in several fights over these groceries and hit with the car that was stolen from you, but you finally made it to the hotel. Up the steps and stumbling your way to the kitchen, you think about how to ease your aching body.
The groceries put away, and a new list for tomorrow to get the things you'd lost/went bad in the time it took to get home, you flop on your bed with a groan. A few minutes later you fell asleep.
You woke up to a commotion. Groggy, you sat up and winced at the ache in all of your limbs. The noises sounded distant, like it was in the lobby, but loud enough to rouse you from a fitful nap. You stood with a slight stumble to go see what it could be, and to possibly tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up.
On the stairs, you heard Angel's voice yelling and more angry than you've ever known him to be. Charlie's voice came softer, trying to mediate between the other angry voice. It seemed like Vaggie and Angel were going at it again. You made your way slowly down the stairs, wincing at the pain in your feet and knees from your little adventure today.
"You fucks! You sent them out to get some stupid fuckin' groceries and you don't even make sure they're okay after they called you so many fuckin' times!" All four of his arms were waving around and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. Vaggie looked ready to kill him again, and with a bit of shame mixed into her expression.
"Angel, I'm sure they're fine--" Charlie was cut off by Angel's yelling once again.
"They aren't answerin' their phone! None of you assholes have seen 'em! If they're so fuckin' fine then where the goddamn fuck are they?!" He stops a moment to catch his breath. "Where are they?" His voice changed from anger to desperation. His four shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. You cleared your throat.
"Uh, Angel?" You voice was rough from the nap. He whipped around, the movement causing you to sway with dizziness. "Woah..." Angel hurried over to you and grabbed you up in all his arms, squeezing you tight.
"Oh my god, I thought something happened to you!" He pulled back to look at you, your eyes tired, your limbs limp, scratches and cuts and forming bruises. "Why...Why are you so banged up?" You blinked and looked at him before shaking your head.
"I'm tired." You had barely said the sentence before Angel scooped you up and took you back upstairs. Vaggie's distant huff of annoyance and Charlie's "glad you're okay!" were the last things from the conversation as Angel took you back to your room.
Thanks for carrying me, babe." You were placed on your soft bed and Angel made quick work of taking off your shoes. He didn't answer as he went to the connected bathroom. You heard the faucet start before you saw him enter the room again. "Angel?"
"Why didn't you answer your phone?" His voice sounded angry, but in a hollow way. Not accusatory, not really. It sounded worried, haunted almost. He made his way to you and helped you out of your shirt. "I called you. A lot." Your heart ached worse than the rest of your body at the small tone.
"It was broken when some of the groceries were stolen." You pointed to the night stand, where you placed the broken remnants of your poor phone. Angel glared at it like it was the one to blame for everything wrong in his life. He helped you get out of the rest of your clothes and into the tub.
"Let me help." He grabbed a rag and cleaned your scratches and cuts. His hands were gentle and he apologized softly every time you winced. He helped dry you off and bandaged the worse of the cuts before allowing you to change into fresh underwear and pajamas.
You two were cuddled up in your bed. His arms gently around you and your head in his fluff. Angel had been soft and quiet this entire time. It made you think that he probably thought something more serious had happened. You thought about the last thing you said to him before he left to work. "Get going, bitch" wasn't what you would want to leave him with.
"Hey, you still up?" Angel only groaned in response and you decided to continue. "I want you to know that I love you." Angel only held you tighter at your words. You knew he reciprocated and you snuggled up closer before falling into a better sleep.
Blitz:
All day you wanted to talk to him. All day you waited patiently for him to be done with work. He just kept getting busy. You hadn't even gotten more than a "hi" with a small peck. Normally that'd satisfy you, you would be fine all day with that. Today was different. Today was exactly 666 days since you started dating. You'd been counting and wanted to do a silly anniversary like all the other dumb couples.
"I can't even be mad at him." You flopped on your couch. "He wasn't counting with me. This was just me being sentimental." You rolled over and curled on your side. It felt ridiculous to be upset about it. Childish. A ping from your phone dragged you out of your wallowing for a second. You picked it up.
Blitz Baby <3: Wanna get takout tnite
You: Are you asking a question?? Or is this you demanding??
Blitz Baby <3: Asking
You: Then yes ;*
Blitz Baby <3: ;* ;* ;*
You giggled, feeling a little bit better. Maybe you two could finally watch that movie you'd been wanting to for a while. A newfound excitement filled you. You loved things like this. Nights in, watching movies or playing games or even just talking. Simple, just you two. Intimacy in the best way. You're sure Blitz felt the same. He seemed to really enjoy both your alone time together.
The both of you communicated a time and decided to chill at your place this time. You'd gotten the food, cleaned up a little, got into the nicest comfy clothes you had. Everything was set and perfect and cozy. There was even a pillow fort and plenty of blankets. You were buzzing with excitement when you heard your phone pinged.
Blitz Baby <3: Mite hv t reshcedg som thn came up
You: Aw what?? :( Okay...
Blitz Baby <3: Gimme liek 30 min I try tmak it short
You: Okay
Somehow you knew this was going to happen. It always did when you wanted to hang out. Work took him too long, you had your own job, his thing with the owl prince. Too many things got in the way. But you were stubborn and had the attitude that if something wanted to take him from you, it'd have to pry him from your cold dead hands. Tonight that was kinda squandered.
Hours had gone by and still no sign from him. No text, no call, no knock on the door. Nothing. A part of you was worried something happened; the rest was just upset. Not at him, but the universe. You were laying on your couch, pillow fort taken down in a fit of sadness. Only a few pillows were allowed to stay to help comfort you. You put his food in the fridge and ate most of yours already. A little bit was saved because he liked to eat some of your plate like he liked to feed you some of his.
A knock at your door roused you from your almost sleep. You sniffed and rolled off the couch to head towards the door. Attempting to rub the redness from your eyes, you curse yourself for allowing yourself a small cry over some arbitrary thing you made up. A giant bouquet was shoved into your face.
"What the--!" You grab the offending flowers and look to the criminal responsible for the attack. There, stood in the hallway of your apartment building, was your boyfriend. "Blitz what the fuck? I thought you were busy?" His cat like grin grew on his face as he slithered by you into your apartment.
"Well, I was but, y'know." He went to the fridge and pulled out the food, popping it into the microwave. You grabbed your scissors to cut the ends at an angle only to find they'd already been cut. Blitz handed you a vase.
"You wanna watch a movie?" You put the water filled vase on the table and discard the wrapper on the flowers. "I've got that we talked about one in the dvd player already." The microwave beeped as he agreed with a hum.
"The flowers really go with the paint." They didn't but you appreciate the thought. You both left them to their vase and awful puke green wall paint.
The couch was still kind of warm from your sad wallowing earlier. You curled up to an arm on one side as he snuggled up beside you, feeding you bites every so often. Your arm was around his shoulders. The movie was some B-list horror about lake fungus coming alive and mutating the wildlife. It was probably some sort of message about saving nature or some shit, but it was funny and full of camp.
"I wanted to tell you something, by the way." You set your head on one of his huge horns. "It's kinda dumb."
"Yeah, so are a lot of things." He didn't move his head, but lifted up a forkful of whatever he was eating. "Shoot." You took the bite and chewed slowly, thinking over how you wanted to word this without sounding like the dumbest bitch in Hell.
"Today was a stupid little thing that I wanted to celebrate." You started. You felt him tense up. "It wasn't major, more like a fun thing that doesn't mean anything." You've said "thing" too many times. Abort! Abort!
"Well, what was it?" He finally moved so he could look at at you. You looked down and back to the tv. A breath or two and you thought more about what you wanted to say.
"It's been exactly 666 days since we started dating and I thought that was funny so I wanted to celebrate it like an anniversary." You stared at the credits rolling on the screen. "It doesn't matter, it was kinda dumb." You shrugged your shoulders. Blitz gently grabbed your face and made you look at him.
"I counted the days too." He admitted with a small smile, his brows knitted together. "It's kinda why I wanted to hang out today." He flops back into your side. You let out a small "oof". He fed you another bite of food before tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. The imp wiggled around to get comfy. You laughed a little and laid down so you'd both be comfy. Arms wrapped around each other, you couldn't be happier.
"I love you." You blurted after a few moments of silently tracing his white spot. Looking down, you saw Blitz already asleep. "Jesus Christ it's only been a minute." You let out a sigh of amused exasperation. That sentence can be used tomorrow to make it hard for him to leave for work in the morning.
Husk:
All day had been a living nightmare. You hadn't had the chance to sit longer than a minute at any given time. Charlie had her hands full with her and Vaggie's visit to the center of the Pride Ring. Some family reunion; the news was covering every appearance of another Prince of Hell and their immediate family. With the Pride Princess's attention elsewhere, she left most of the paper work to you. Today was full of talking with contractors and running around to get materials for the fixing of the Hotel. You'd been cussed out, smacked, overloaded, looked down on, and laughed at. In other words, you were overwhelmed and exhausted. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, maybe even cry.
Husk watched you run in and out the entire day. He'd seen how you looked worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. There was a pang in his chest every time you would do a half wave with a tired smile every time you passed him. He hated to see you so overworked. If he remembered correctly, Alastor was supposed to be doing half the work you were trying to juggle. Said asshole was smiling smugly in the shadows, watching you struggle with sadistic glee. Husk could feel the sticky air that hung around the red bastard nearby. It pissed him off, and Alastor knew it. That was worse.
"Finally done?" Husk grumbled out as you threw down a stack of paperwork you still had to do and sat on a bar stool. He glared at the documents. You sighed and laid your head on the cool, polished wood of the bar top. Husk winced at the way your back cracked as you went basically boneless. He poured you a cup of orange juice. A book somewhere said something about orange slices being a good idea after sports; this was the closest thing he had. The exhaustion on your face was heartbreaking as you looked at the glass.
"I don't want to exist right now." Your mumbled wish was emphasized by a small sniff. Husk put his clawed hand on your head and gave you a small scratch. You always did that when he was feeling down, maybe this could help you too. A small sigh of bliss was a good encouragement.
"What a heartwarming moment! I didn't think you had it in you, Husker!" The bane of your existence finally decided to show himself. You groaned at his loud voice interrupting the small bit of calm you were enjoying. The Radio Demon sat down next to you and threw an arm around your tired form.
"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." Husk threw Alastor's arm off you. Static popped as Alastor fixed his hair nonchalantly. You gave your lover a tired smile of appreciation. His undead heart ached at the sight.
"Now, now, no need to be crass!" The ever smiling demon laughed, making you wince. Husk's ears flattened as his anger flared. "If they wanted to be left alone, all they'd need to do is ask." That seemed to be the final straw for the cat.
"The only reason they're too tired to even be near you is because you're an asshole who loves to watch people suffer!" Husk pointed a claw at the red menace. His tail thrashed behind him, wings puffed up to make him look bigger. "Not only that, you're even more exhausting today because of your fuckin' smug face. You know you were supposed to help them today but you enjoy causing people misery more than you like controlling everything so you decided to hide in the shadows like the piece of shit you are!" You raised your head at Husk's outburst, jaw hung open. You'd never seen your boyfriend so mad.
"Husk--" You tried to comfort or calm him down. The last this you wanted was for Alastor decide to torture Husk over one bad day. Alastor's smile grew more amused at every word. Husk's glare grew with it. The deer demon threw his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you to his side.
"Would you look at that! You see how your loverboy raises his hackles! What a show, don't you think dear?" His grip tightened on you as you tried to push him away. You didn't have the energy to tell him off today, nor the strength to shove him off his stool, it seemed. Husk growled.
"Get your. Fuckin' hands. Off them." Husk's words were said through gritted teeth. Alastor was about to say something but Husk hissed at him. You felt like you were sitting in the middle of a vortex. They were both staring each other down with an intensity you'd never seen before. Miraculously, Alastor let you go and stood up.
"Fine, fine, I suppose I should be getting to work, anyhow." And with a snap of the deer's fingers, he was gone, along with the paperwork you'd placed on the bar top. A sigh slipped from your lips as you placed your head back down in relief. You really thought you were about to witness Husk's second death. It took the last bit of energy you had.
"Sorry 'bout that." Husk rounded the bar and gently scooped you into his arms. "Didn't mean to make you feel worse." You only groaned in response as you rested your head against his chest. He carried you upstairs and to his room.
Husk's room was the same design as yours when you first got here. A standard red wallpaper with dark wood furniture, red sheets and dim lighting. He hadn't bothered to change it, other than some of your clothes littering the floor. There were a few knickknacks you'd given him, some from his apartment. He'd always act aloof or uninterested when you'd give him something in the beginning of your relationship, but you knew he liked them.
"Wait here." He gently placed you on the bed. You basically moaned as you sank into the soft mattress. He left the room and you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. You used this time to take off your shoes and get comfier in the bed. The weight of your eyelids caused you to close them.
Husk re-entered the room, the sound of the door clicking back closed making you open your eyes again. He walked over to you and offered the glass of orange juice from earlier. You smiled and sat up a bit to drink some of it.
"Husk." Your eyes blinked slowly before looking up at him with a slightly bigger, tired smile. "I love you." The words made him tense up. He looked at the lamp across the room, his tail twitched at the end and wings fluffed up then back down. You waited patiently for his response. He fidgeted a bit more before looking at you then back down at the half empty cup in your hand.
"You should sleep, you look exhausted." He gently too the cup from you and set it on the nightstand. You laid back down and he went to turn off the light and draw the curtains. It left you in near darkness. You tensed slightly when you felt him crawl up beside you, but soon relaxed. He pulled you into his gentle embrace and covered you both with a wing as his tail curled over your thigh. A gentle purr lulled you into a much needed sleep.
"Love you too." The grumbled words were the last thing you registered before rest fully took over.
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fourmoony · 7 months
Note
omg haii, i read ur mini seiries called hope, and i absolutely ADORE it!!! you're probably already writing a part 4, but i wanna request an idea - her first b-day and she meets regulus and lily for the first time where regulus is kinda quiet, not involving himself that much and hope penguin-walks over to him and hugs his leg and regulus goes full-on sweet mode omgg and he baby-talks her like "heyy hope" and "i'm your favourite uncle, right?" and hope babbles back <333
i would be in total awe if i saw this in at least one of your parts, it's also my birthday in 10 days so perfect fit in with hope's birthday!!
tysm for reading <333
hi! I love this idea... sorry it took so long, I've been swamped with college work. this one only features Regulus because the story got away from me, but I could do a separate one for Lily if you like. happy belated birthday, I hope you had an amazing day :) hope you like it
𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟒) - james potter x f!reader - this part doesn't have much james content, sorry!
summary: Hope and Uncle Reggie fluff. 1.9k
masterlist - part 1 - part 2 - part 3
--
There’s balloons and banners on every wall, presents on every surface, toys strewn all over the floor, and paper plates dotted in various areas.
Hope stands in the middle of it all, in the eye of the storm, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on her chubby little face. It’s strange, when you really think about it, that she smiles just like James. Considering she’s not biologically yours, nor his. But she smiles like him. Unabashedly, bright, all of her tiny little teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners from the sheer force of her happiness. You’ve wrangled her hair into pigtails and she’s wearing the pink corduroy pinafore Sirius bought her with matching pink socks. She’s the epitome of cuteness and your heart can’t take it.
It’s surprising – and yet not at all – that she hasn’t napped all day. It’s not long gone four pm, the party winding down, and there’s been not a single tantrum, nor a moment of calm from your daughter. James, on the other hand, has had several tantrums. He’s adamant Hope has defied all biological laws and is growing too fast. He says it so often you think he might have wished it true, because today, for the first time, you see it.
She’s no longer the baby James brought home bundled in a blanket, with a nervous smile on his face. She’s a bright, loving, happy little girl with so much attitude, so much love, so much energy, and you really feel like maybe she is growing too fast. You can’t slow time, no matter how hard you try, and that makes your lip wobble as you stare at your daughter, pointing sticky fingers at Remus who tries to dodge her, and your boyfriend, who’s trying to corral her with a baby wipe.
All the kids invited to the party have long gone, stuffed with cake and with a complimentary party bag. The cottage is no longer crowded or overrun by hyperactive children. Calm has resumed – well, as calm as any residence with your daughter and your friends inside of it can be. Sirius is half passed out on the sofa from hours of keeping up with his god daughter, legs swung up over the arm, a haphazardly placed party hat on his head. Remus is still trying to dodge Hope’s sticky fingers but is now the one with the baby wipe trying to corral her. He won’t win. You know your daughter and by now, Remus should know that his attempts are futile. But they’re both laughing, even if Remus keeps grimacing every time her hands land on his beige trousers.
“So,” James appears beside you, an overly fond look in his eyes, “Hope’s Epic First Birthday – success?”
You hum, lean into the arm he’s wrapped around you, emulating warmth and comfort and every bit of him you’ve come to love over the years – home – “Massive success. Best parents ever.”
James huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to the side of your temple. He tenses when the doorbell rings. It’s habit, after the war, but you’re safe now, so he releases you with a chaste peck to the lips and jogs off to answer. Remus has strong armed Hope into his lap and is wiping down her hands. You smile. He’s better with her than he would ever know. You can hear James happily talking away to someone, shoes are discarded with a familiar thump by the front door, and then he appears back in the doorway with a wide smile.
Regulus appears behind him, a tentative smile on his face. He’s so similar to Sirius it’s kind of shocking, but the differences are there. Where Sirius is punk rock and messy black eye liner with leather jackets and shaggy hair, Regulus is stoic, regal, neat and put together. It’s been an odd adjustment, watching the two brothers become acquainted with each other again after years of being apart, but it warms your heart every time share a smile or a joke, sometimes an awkward hug. Winning the war was mostly because of Regulus and his behind-the-scenes efforts and when Sirius found out, it shattered everything he’d ever thought about his brother. Watching him recover from what he thought would be mourning his brother, but actually turned out to be healing with his brother, has been beautiful.
“Sirius,” You call, “Regulus is here.”
Sirius perks up, all sense of exhaustion gone, and smiles wide at the sight of his younger brother. Regulus is wearing all black – slacks and a button up shirt. They have the same eyes, same cheek bones, same nose. But Regulus is, for lack of a better word, serious. He’s well put together, posh, a man of luxury, after inheriting half of the Black family riches two months ago.
It’s why, when you spot the sparkly pink gift bag in his hand, you have to bite your lip to stifle a laugh.
“Reg,” Sirius stands, hesitates, but ultimately decides to go for a hug, anyway, “You made it.”
Regulus hugs Sirius back, albeit a little awkwardly, “Of course.”
He turns to you and James, “Sorry I missed the party. All the people, I just…”
James waves a dismissive hand, bright and easy smile on his face, “Honestly, mate, don’t worry about it. Twenty screaming kids is anyone’s worst nightmare.”
Regulus smiles a little, nodding in way of an answer. Hope has wrangled her way out of Remus’ grip and is tottering across the living room floor, dodging stray balloons and wrapped presents as she goes. When she reaches Regulus, she stops, tiny fist clutching at the leg of his trousers. Regulus hasn’t spent much time around Hope. You don’t know if he really likes kids. But when he crouches, a soft look about his eyes you’ve never seen before, you release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. James guides you to the armchair, pulling you into his lap.
You sit happily, watching the scene before you unfold. Sirius and Remus seem to be as mesmerised by this version of Regulus as you are.
“Hi, Birthday Girl,” His voice is quiet, sweet like honey as he holds the bag out to her, “This is for you.”
Hope looks enamoured by the pink glittery bag, let alone whatever could be inside. Regulus sits it on the ground, legs in a basket to get onto Hope’s level. The bag sits between them like a peace treaty. Hope stares at Regulus and he waits, face blank, lips upturned maybe a little. Her tiny, little hand reaches out, palm flat against his cheek and Regulus closes his eyes for a second before a wide grin spreads its way across his face. Sirius steps around them carefully to reach for the camera by the mantle. Without another word, Hope clambers into Regulus’ lap and sits down. She’s never been shy, so you don’t know why it surprises you so much.
“So,” Regulus starts, holding open the bag so that Hope can see inside, “Start with this one.”
He hands her a neatly wrapped gift, white paper with little pink hearts and you melt at the idea of cold, stoic, Regulus Black in a shop somewhere buying pink gift bags and wrapping paper. He helps Hope a little to unwrap it, and then holds it out in front of her. It’s a book, from what you can see, with a tiger and a little girl on the front cover.
“This book is called The Tiger Who Came to Tea. It’s a muggle book, one my cousin Andromeda used to read to me. I think you’ll like it.” He’s talking so quiet you really think he’s only intending for Hope to hear him.
Your daughter looks entirely fascinated, enthralled by the attention she’s gaining from Regulus.
Sirius snaps a picture, but Regulus doesn’t look up.
He pulls another gift out of the bag, a smaller box, which he helps Hope unwrap again, “Your Uncle Sirius says you’re going to be a famous Quidditch player, one day. This is Plan B. You don’t have to be magic to make potions,” He flips the lid on a little wooden box, engraved with her name, and inside are loads of scribbled on pieces of parchment, “These are my perfected recipes. You’ll go a long way with these, but something tells me you’re going to surpass them by a mile.”
Your lip wobbles as you watch. Throughout the nine months Hope has been your daughter, you’ve thought many times about her future. Sirius has a can do, no worry attitude about her becoming a Quidditch star. You think he’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen for her. But Regulus has given her the beautiful gift of his own potion recipes, and the ability to create and succeed in something she can do with no boundaries.
He’s given her an heirloom, a starting point, an incredibly thoughtful gift and it’s truly beautiful.
“Your mum and dad can probably hang onto this for a few years. But it’s yours, don’t let your dad nick it, I know how bad he is at potions.” Regulus looks pointedly at James, who wipes tears from his eyes as he laughs.
You place your hand over his heart and share a look you’ve come all too familiar with – how lucky are we to have a little girl who is so adored?
The last present Regulus takes out of the bag isn’t wrapped. It’s a teddy bear, brown and small enough for Hope to carry. She takes it from his hands with a wide smile, giving him a small ‘ta’ as way of thanking him. Regulus smiles, nods his head, “You’re welcome, Hope. Happy Birthday.”
She’s up like a shot once presents are finished – as is to be expected. She totters over to Sirius, who looks equally as teary eyed as you and James and shows him the bear with great enthusiasm. You stand to collect the box of potion lists from the floor, holding it gently, a smile on your lips. Regulus is standing now, so you look to him, finger rubbing softly over the engravement of her name, “Regulus, I- thank you. This is a beautiful gift. And the book, she loves tigers.”
He smiles softly, nodding his head, “Remus told me she made Padfoot wear a Halloween costume of a tiger.”
You laugh fondly at the memory as Sirius – who’s holding Hope in his arms as she wriggles – growls at Remus for recounting the story. Remus holds his hands up in surrender, a knowing look in his eyes.
“And the potions stuff is because there should be something from our world for her to access no matter what. I have a feeling she’ll be one of the greats, I wasn’t lying about that. Just like her mum.”
“Can I hug you?” You ask Regulus.
He nods, and so you do. It’s a little stunted, a little awkward, but it means the world over.
“Okay,” James claps his hands together, the remnants of tears on his cheeks like a little snail trail, “Cake?”
“Please.” Regulus nods and follows your boyfriend to the kitchen.
Sirius hands Hope off to James as he passes, who immediately reaches for Regulus. He takes her wordlessly from James, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Sirius reaches over to the mantle, hands you a photograph that’s been left to develop. Hope and Regulus are on the floor, your daughter curled comfortably onto his lap, smiling brightly up at him as he holds the book in front of her. He looks so happy, so content, nothing like the boy you knew in school, Sirius’ estranged brother. He looks like Reggie.
You smile, take your wand from your back pocket and wave it over the photograph.
In small cursive letters, underneath the moving photograph, appears: Hope and Uncle Regulus on Hope’s First Birthday.
Sirius beams.
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railingsofsorrow · 12 days
Text
an apple doesn't fall far from the tree (until it does)
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: reader takes care of her daughter while she's sick and some memories of her childhood resurface.
pairing: s.reid x f!bau!reader
w.c: 2.2K
warnings/content: being neglected by a parent; reader has mommy issues & spencer has daddy issues; crying; discussions about a difficult childhood; insecurities; mentions of v*mit and fever (the flu symptoms); Eden Reid being everyone's source of joy; Spencer in glasses always; hurt/comfort; very brief (implied) suggestive content; spiders; I proofread this at 2am.
A/N: here's my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins kid fic challenge i was so sad that I didn't see this until after May 1 :( but here it is! absolutely love writing about dad!spencer. it's legit a source of inspiration.
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
want to read more works about this au?
→ [recharging] - [day off]
━━━━━━━━━
“No, it's the other way around.” You laugh when Eden places the egg shells inside the cake batter instead of the egg yolk.
“Oh,” she mumbles with parted lips. Then squirms away and giggles when you tickle her sides. You do manage to get most of the egg shells out of the batter. “Sorry, mamma.”
“It's okay, baby. Now what's next?”
She studies every material in the counter thoroughly, her fingers moving as she thinks it over. That's the moment you stop and stare fondly because of how much she resembles her father. Her hair had grown longer in the past few months, it's nearly past her shoulders and the honey brown curls are exactly like Spencer's.
“Sugar!” She raises her pointer finger, giving you an eager look, anxious to know if she's correct or wrong. You take a few seconds to build suspense and reveals the veredic. Eden jumps in the chair in excitement and you gasp, holding her in place so she wouldn't fall.
One of your favourite sounds in the whole word is Eden's laughter. It's contagious and childish and unforgettable. And a bit healing, if you're being honest. In case you're feeling a little down, making Eden giggle is the cure.
When you were called at the school by her teacher today because your daughter had threw up during class, you were finishing up the pile of paperwork in your desk. It took some convincing for Spencer not to immediately run to the school, but when he heard she had asked for you in the phonecall, he caved in. Giving you one condition: to send updates of Eden's wellbeing every hour so he could know how she was.
Your husband listed at least a thousand medications and natural medicine to help with the symptoms before you were able to leave the office.
Eden had the flu, that's what the doctor said. She needed rest, the strawberry flavoured syrup, the medication to avoid nausea and cuddles to heal faster.
Thankfully, she was laughing again by the afternoon, which meant she was feeling slightly better. You noticed her paleness diminished after taking the medication and having a good four-hour nap, her fever had also went down.
“Good girl,” you praise after she takes a spoon of her medication not hiding her grimace. “Now we wait for the cake to be ready so we can have a big bite.”
She nods dutifully, rubbing her eyes with her small hands. You recognise the sign of a sleepy child, so you scoop her up and take her to her bedroom.
Although, before you place her in bed with her stuffed friends, you decide to keep her in your arms for a while longer, mumbling a lullaby softly while rocking her to sleep. Almost like when she was a baby, the difference now is that she's bigger and not bald.
It doesn't take ten minutes for her soft snores to be heard. You put her to bed and leave the door ajar in case she needs you during the night. You would come check in on her every hour anyway, to make sure her fever wouldn't rise again.
There's this weird thing about being a parent: you never quit worrying. It's not exactly weird, it is, in your case, the maternal instinct that you can't avoid. It was there ever since Eden was born.
The reason why you find that odd is because you never had that. Not when you were a child, not when you were a rebel teenager, not as an adult. In fact, you were pretty convinced your mother's maternal instinct was nonexistent.
The only time you remember being held by your mom was when you cut your head when you fell down the stairs and you had to spend an entire night for observation. She held your hand as you slept the entire time, kissed your temple and then told you she loved you. She never did it again. Eden's grandmother wasn't maternal, she wasn't a fan of bedtime stories or mother and daughter times.
But she takes Eden to school and insists on staying with her on some weekends so they can bake Eden's favourite biscuits and decorate it.
She wasn't your mother when you needed, but she is a good grandmother to your daughter.
You don't understand it. You are thankful, of course. It's not like you expected that she would treat Eden bad or anything, but you can't help but wonder if that coldness and distance was just reserved for you as a child? And what did you do to deserve that. You must have done something. Still, she never told you what.
“Why are you sitting in the middle of the hallway in the dark?”
You let out a gasp, quickly covering your mouth. You take a glimpse inside Eden's room through the small space left and notice her sleeping frame tucked in with Mr. Greenie.
You had been sitting on the floor, staring at nothing in the dark in the middle of the hall, which is why Spencer is questioning you, rightfully so. But he startled you.
“I'm monitoring,” you say rather dumbly but out of excuses. “... her fever.”
He lifts his glasses up his nose — he recently went back to wearing because his eyes got too sensitive for contacts — while squinting doubtfully at you, then he turns on the light to sit down crisscrossed by your side after also taking a look inside Eden's bedroom. He would give her a goodnight kiss in a minute.
You don't even realize you're crying until his thumb travels across your cheeks to gently wipe your tearstained cheeks. His mouth tugging downwards at your puffy eyes.
“You told me her fever went down an hour ago.”
“It did.”
“Then what's wrong, angel?”
She's fine, you're not. He thinks.
You sniffle, shaking your head. You feel like a child all over again. This is so stupid. You are an adult, why are you still feeling like this? You have your family now, there is no need to dig into the past and suffer. You cannot change anything about it.
He scoots into your personal space, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him. You rest your head on his chest, hearing the thump thump of his heartbeat against your ear. For a moment, that's all you thought about. Spencer's hands drawing invisible patterns on your arms and back, muttering softly about his day as to not disturb the peaceful silence and kissing the crown of your head occasionally.
“She's perfect.”
His hands halt on their way up and down your arm. “Yes, she is.” He knows who you were talking about, he always does, like he read your mind.
“I'm scared I might ruin her.”
This sentence alone terrifies you to no end. It's so much deeper than feeling unloved as a child because it isn't about you anymore, it's about the life you created, the life you are raising and watching grow up. The life who carries your DNA, the same one you share with you mother, who is the person that made you question every single encounter with a human being and if you really deserves to be loved.
Every day, you wonder if you were cold or short with Eden at any moment. If, maybe, a comment slipped last your lips and it would define how her day would be. Or if you gave her a look of disapproval that would make her question her way of speaking or her way of being.
You are scared of ending up like her and to have your daughter regret being raised by you.
“That's just not possible.” Spencer says firmly, squeezing you as reassurance. “You're a wonderful person and a wonderful mother, there is just absolutely no way you would ruin her or do anything remotely close.”
“If I'm so wonderful, then why didn't she love me?”
Parents can impact your life in a good way or catastrophically bad. There's the line in between, the gray line. From what Spencer heard you talk about your mother, she leans a little towards the catastrophically bad. It isn't that she doesn't love you. It is about the way she didn't show it.
“It wasn't your fault.”
Spencer finds your mother a sweet woman who took care of Eden when both of you are away on cases, or just because she wants to be with her granddaughter that day. And that's fine, he likes her. She's okay. What isn't okay is how she left you to drown in doubt in your childhood as you questioned every action you did in your entire life afterwards.
That was cruel and cold and unfair. You might forgive her for how she treated you one day, but he wouldn't.
You scoff, harshly drying your tears as they kept coming. “I must have done something.”
“You were a child.” Spencer insists, caressing your cheek. He understands where the blame comes from, he used to carry that burden, sometimes he still does. Did he make his dad leave? Could he have done something to stop it? The answer is no. A child cannot blame themselves for their parents mistakes.
And that's easier said than done.
“So?”
He sighs, lifting your chin so he can look into your eyes and stick what he is about to say into your brain for good.
“Is there anything Eden could do that would make you treat her with indifference?”
Your brows raise in disbelief, “God, no. She's my everything.”
He gives you a pointed look at your quick answer. You didn't even think twice, you didn't have to. She is your everything. The best part of you. And you would do anything to put a smile on her face. Because that's what parents are supposed to do.
“You know that you're her first source of comfort?”
You tilt your head to show you're listening, focusing on playing with his calloused knuckles. “What do you mean.”
“You're the first person she wants after a nightmare, when she has a bad day at school or even when there's a bug in the room that you're also terrified of.”
You can't hold back the snort that comes out of your mouth.
“You're not talking about spiders, certainly. Remember that night you saw one in our bedroom and screamed so loud our neighbours made fun of us on the weekend?” Spencer rolls his eyes and you carry on, too amused to stop. “They thought we were going at it. like rabbits.”
“Okay,” Spencer huffs, pretending to be annoyed. He can't actually be annoyed at you. “It was huge and what if it had walked all over our bed before we found it? Where was it before? When did it get there? Did you know that the bite of the false widow spider Steatoda nobilis can develop infections that are unresponsive to antibiotics?”
“Baby.” You peck his lips until he stops rambling. You do love when he goes off on a rant but he will just spiral out of control if he thinks anymore about spiders and decide to clean-up the entire house to be convinced there is no spider lurking in the corner. “I killed it, okay? You're safe.”
He hums, leaning forward for another kiss. “My hero,” he mumbles into your lips.
Both of you check Eden's temperature and kiss the mini version of you goodnight before going back to the living room.
“So you do understand, right?” He wraps both arms around you when you sit on the couch, kissing the back of your head. “You're wonderful and kind and lovely and you. Our girl and I couldn't have been more lucky.”
“If you want to make me cry again just say the word, Spencer.” He chuckles, spreading little kisses down your neck, lips wavering closer to your ear.
“Never, but I do want to make you smile, so I got ice cream.”
That makes you turn around fast, an excitement glint on your eyes. “Which flavor?”
His lips twitches into that smug grin when he knows he is right about something. He shrugs pretending to be nonchalant. “Cotton candy, I guess.”
You shoot up from the couch before he can utter another word and run towards the fridge, whispering-yelling I love you so as to not wake up your daughter. Spencer nods with a fond smile, leaning against the kitchen counter to watch you moan over your favorite ice cream and remember the part of your childhood that you enjoyed. Cotton candy, afternoon walks in the park and friends sleepovers.
“I love you,” you confess as your mouth splits into a wide smile while you're kissing him. His tongues travelled through his lips after you split apart and he tastes the sweet flavor of cotton-candy provided by you.
Spencer presses his lips to both of your cheeks and the tip of your nose, gazing down at you lovingly. “I know, and I love you too.”
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