#I’ve started crying over spaghetti

[anniebeemine]

Some Days Are Diamonds, Some Days Are Stone- s.r. x reader

I found a new needle for my turntable so I’ve only been listening to John Denver recently.

Spencer's life after prison was a delicate balance, a constant tug-of-war between reclaiming the normalcy he craved and grappling with the shadows that prison had cast over him. Some days, he was able to push through the memories, the trauma, and the pain, but other days, it was all he could do to get out of bed. You stood by him through it all, a steadfast presence in the storm that still sometimes raged within him.

On the good days, Spencer seemed almost like his old self—calm, reflective, eager to engage with the world around him. He would wake up early, slipping out of bed with a lightness that had been absent for so long. Those mornings were precious, filled with quiet moments where the two of you would sit together in the living room, your legs tangled as you sipped coffee and talked about everything and nothing at all. He would lean back against the cushions, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, drawing comfort simply from having you close.

Some days, he’d suggest going out—just the two of you. You’d wander through the streets, hand in hand, taking in the sights of the city like tourists rediscovering its hidden gems. He loved going to dinner, savoring the taste of food that wasn't served on a plastic tray, the ambiance of a cozy restaurant that offered a semblance of normal life. The flicker of candlelight at your favorite Italian spot often brought a softness to his face, his eyes reflecting the warm glow as he listened to you talk about your day, nodding thoughtfully as he twirled spaghetti on his fork.

There were visits to museums, where Spencer would lose himself in the art, tracing the history behind each piece with that same enthusiasm you remembered from before everything changed. He'd stand in front of a painting, his hand lightly touching his chin, deep in thought, and you couldn't help but smile, seeing a glimpse of the Spencer you fell in love with—the one who could get lost in his own mind for hours, analyzing every brushstroke, every hue.

And the libraries—oh, how he loved the libraries. He would wander the aisles with you, fingers trailing along the spines of books, occasionally pulling one out to read a passage to you, his voice gentle, soothing. Those days were peaceful, filled with the quiet joy of rediscovery, of building a new life together, one moment at a time.

But not every day was a good day.

There were mornings when Spencer couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed. You’d wake up beside him, feeling the tension in his body, the way he curled in on himself as if trying to make himself small, invisible. Those were the days when the weight of everything he’d been through was too much to bear, when the memories of prison, the fear, and the loneliness crashed over him like a tidal wave.

He would lie there, staring at the ceiling, his mind far away. Sometimes, he would start to cry, silently at first, as if ashamed to let the emotions out. You’d reach out to him, gently placing a hand on his back, and he would turn into you, burying his face in your shoulder, his body wracked with sobs. All you could do was hold him, letting him release the pain in whatever way he needed to, whispering reassurances in his ear even though you knew they could only do so much.

On those rough days, Spencer would often retreat into himself, locking himself away in your room for hours at a time. He’d close the door, the sound of it shutting a painful echo in the quiet of your home. You’d give him space, knowing he needed to process things on his own, but it never got easier, hearing him cry on the other side of the door, knowing you couldn’t take the pain away.

When he finally emerged, he looked exhausted, eyes red-rimmed and weary, like he’d aged years in just a few hours. He wouldn’t say much on those days, just give you a small, tired smile that broke your heart a little every time. You’d guide him to the couch, making sure he was comfortable, and sit beside him, letting the silence between you be filled with unspoken understanding.

The rough days were hard, but you faced them together, even when Spencer didn’t have the energy to reach out to you. You’d make his favorite tea, read to him from his favorite books, or simply sit beside him, holding his hand, letting him know you were there, that he wasn’t alone.

In time, Spencer would start to come back to you, little by little. He’d start to talk again, to share the thoughts that had been tormenting him, and you’d listen, offering what comfort you could. The good days would return, and you’d cherish them all the more, knowing how fleeting and precious they were.

[gloomzombie]

I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None(?)(( Let me know if I need to put any!))

Word Count: 4,276

Chapter Four: Follow You

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

August 20. 10:23 pm.

“So, how’s school going for you, Y/N?” The question is one I’ve been asked thousands of times before, all from John, and all usually around the same time; but coming from Ms. Taylor’s comforting voice doesn't fill me with unnecessary anger. I take a bite of the reheated spaghetti and look up at her. She sits across from me at the small dining table, and Gage sits on my left, his gaze and focus on his food. Part of me wishes he were focused on me, but the other part knows it’s selfish to think that way- even when I can’t get them out of my head. “It’s going fine, thanks. So far, the work’s been pretty easy and I’ve got enough friends to enjoy it.” It’s only partially a lie. I have enough friends for me, though I’m sure three- maybe four now that I’ve properly met Stacy- isn’t what anyone else would consider “enough friends.”

She smiles at me, her lips now wiped clean from the red lipstick she adorned earlier. She’s not eating with us, only drinking sips of her red wine. Gage told me this is normal if she’s gone out; sitting at the dinner table and chatting with him about his day and what he’s thinking, even if she already ate. It’s such a nice thing to do, and on days where I mope wishing John could’ve been better, or wishing I had a better dad in general, I could see myself wanting this with him- or with a better parent- or maybe Mom. If she were still here, would she have stayed with him? If she did, would she still stay even after he started losing his memory? Would he be a better person if she were with us?

I shake the thoughts from my head, focusing back onto my plate in front of me. I can’t cry in front of her again, and I definitely can’t in front of Gage. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad you have good friends to hang out with.” She smirks as she glances at Gage, then back at me. “And a boyfriend.” Gage’s head snaps up to her, his face all pink. How sweet. “Mom! I told you he’s not my boyfriend.” He argues, though not strongly, his face turning brighter with the words he speaks. She just smiles and giggles. “Mhmm, whatever you say, baby.” She leans over and places a kiss on his cheek, to which he leans away from. “Momm, please,” He spluttered, exasperated. She just peppers kisses all over his cheek, ignoring him. I can’t help the smile that creases my lips, watching them silently. I can see how he could be embarrassed by her, but really, he’s so lucky to have a mom like her. She giggles and pulls away. “Fine, fine.” She readjusts in her seat, a proud smile tugging at her lips. Gage lets his messy bangs fall over his face, though his hair’s not long enough to cover the smile that mirrors his mothers. 

August 20. 11:12 pm.

After dinner, Gage practically drags me up the stairs with him, his hand never loosening its grasp on mine. His mom only smiles at us as we go, which makes a blush rise up my neck and into my cheeks. As he leads me to his room, I can’t help but smile. He’s gotten more confident with me, I can tell. God, why does that make me feel the way it does? I shut the door behind me and he reaches his arm past me, twisting the lock as he looks up at me. I smirk down at him, his beautiful sage colored eyes gazing into mine. My smirk softens into a smile and he seems to notice, a light pink tint grazing his cheeks, his nose, the tips of his ears. 

The buzz of the alcohol has worn down by now, having been a few hours ago; but nonetheless, the adrenaline I feel right now is almost unbearable. In one swift motion, I wrap my arms around his waist and hoist him up into my arms. He squeaks and his legs wrap instinctively around my hips, his arms around my neck. I press my lips up against his, him responding in kind; kissing me back almost as passionately, though I can still feel the shyness of it. I waste no time in carrying him to his bed, laying him in it and breaking the kiss. His eyelids flutter open, his green eyes dark in the dim light; the only light being the deep, navy blue lamp on his bedside table. I need him.

His limbs never tear away from me, and they pull me onto him, as he gazes up at me with those fucking eyes. The way he’s looking at me now is something I’ve desperately wanted for years. He’s so fucking addicting. I kick my shoes off, letting them fall wherever. He watches me intently with an undeniable blush grazing his soft, delicate features as I sit up in his lap and pull my shirt up and off of me. I throw it on the floor, keeping eye contact with the boy underneath me. I can feel him already, a pulsing feeling against my leg and I don’t even try to hide the smile that makes its way onto my face. I lean down to kiss his neck, some of the strands of my hair falling and brushing against him. 

“Please, Y/N.” He whispers, his voice a tad higher than usual. I look up at him. Fuck, did I go too far? I got so caught up in the feeling of him; the feeling of just being with him, that I didn’t pay enough attention to what he may be feeling. “Everything alright, Gage?” I ask, bringing my head up a bit so I can look down at him comfortably. He glances up at the ceiling, resting his head down on the pillow. “I..I think so. I just…” he hesitates, and I can feel the nauseating wave of guilt wash over me. I chew on my bottom lip, but I don’t tear the skin as much as I’d like to. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” 

The heat in my cheeks spreads to my ears and I feel so uncomfortably hot. I sit up, still in his lap, but giving him space if he so wants it. “I-I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before I-” “No. Don’t do that.” He rises to sit up, his full focus on me; with his hands sliding down my arms to intertwine his fingers with mine. “I…I want everything you’ve done, and everything you want to do.” His face can’t get any redder, so evident under the blue light. I feel the relief flood over me, drowning out the guilt from before. His eyes drop to the floor, but he brings them back up just as quickly as he dropped them. “I want you, Y/N, but not just like this.” He mutters, leaning his forehead against mine. I can feel his breath against my lips this way. “Are you saying..you want to go out with me?” I ask, and the question is one I’ve never asked before.

Despite sleeping with people in the past, I’ve never actually been on a date. I’ve gone out with people, sure, but they never saw me as anything but a friend; or a toy to use for sex and nothing more. The thought of going out with Gage runs through my mind, and my body reacts; my heartbeat thrums in my ears, a repetitive thump, thumping sound; my stomach feels like it's churning- but not in the bad way I’ve grown so accustomed to. He smiles his sweet little smile and I can’t deny the way it makes me feel so nervous. “Yes, Y/N. I’ve wanted to for months, maybe a year now.” I smile sheepishly. 

Oh, yeah. I forgot Gage had his eyes on me for months before he got the courage to talk to me. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him before, but I guess it makes sense; we both prefer to stand on the sidelines, unnoticed by the crowd. I just wish I had noticed him sooner. “Then, let’s go on a date.” I speak nervously. The words are foreign coming from my mouth. I’ve never been asked out before, and never asked anyone else out either. He adjusts to sit up straighter, and I slide off of his lap, sitting in front of him, though his hands never break from mine. “I’d love that.” He shakes his hair out from behind his ears, his bangs covering his eyes; but I catch the sudden color in his face. He’s still so nervous around me, as I am with him. I laugh; a real laugh that makes me feel so light. 

He smiles, a wide and open smile. “What?” He asks and I shake my head, still laughing. “I just..I don’t think I’ve liked anyone the way I like you before.” I squeeze his hands, warm in mine. He flushes and giggles. “I could say the same to you, lover.” Lover. The pet name leaves me feeling so fuzzy. My stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. I close the small gap between us, pressing my lips against his in a way I haven’t with anyone before him. I can feel him smile through the kiss, and I smile too.

August 21. 1:24 am.

“Wait, you’re telling me with all of those bands you like, you’ve never been to a concert before?” Gage asks as he sips his tea, sitting in a booth opposite from mine. I shake my head. “Nope. I mean- I wish I had of course, but…” I gaze at the floor of the dimly lit 24-hour cafè. “I’ve just never had the money for it when they do come here.” A lie. I hate to lie, especially to people I actually give a shit about- but really, there’s no way around it with the way I have to live. I don’t want to drop my shitty situation onto him, so it’s so much easier- nicer-  to lie.

He nods. “I get that. Where’d you say you work again?” He wonders aloud, tilting his head. I take a bite of the semi-warm chocolate chip cookie in my hand. “Library. I’m the assistant,” I place the cookie down. “Y’know, putting books back where they belong and shit.” He smiles sweetly, and I can’t help but to smile too. “Awh, do you like that? I know you read a lot.” I sigh, leaning against the cushiony booth behind me. I love the way he just knows stuff about me. 

“I do, actually. It's good pay and when there’s nothing else to do and no people that need help, I can read.” I pick up my glass of coke and take a few sips of it. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve been wanting to get into reading lately,” his fingers tap lightly on the mug in his hands. “I just don’t really know where to start.” I perk up at that, placing my glass down. “I have a lot of books you could read!” I smile sheepishly. “The first and only piece of furniture I bought was my own bookcase. I started getting too many books, they all couldn't fit on my desk anymore,” I could feel my face heat up. 

He giggles, making my face feel even warmer. “That’s..really cute actually.” I huff. “Hey, you’re supposed to be the cute one,” I argue teasingly, finishing the last bit of my cookie. He shakes his head, giggling some more before taking another sip of his tea. “You can be cute sometimes too.” I shake my head too, giving up. 

We continued talking for a bit in that shabby little diner. I’m still surprised his mom let us go out so late. John doesn’t even like me going out past sundown. Even though it’s been only a week of talking to him, I think I’m starting to really like him. I can’t let myself rush into this like I usually do, though. If Gage is good for me, the last thing I want to do is mess that up. The walk back to Gage’s house is silent- a comfortable silence. His hand is warm in mine, contrast to the chill of the late summer breeze. I can’t stop smiling until we reach the door. 

He takes out his keys and unlocks it, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. He smiles at me and takes my hand again as he leads me inside. I don’t smile back, my cheeks are sore from all the smiling I’ve already done. I shut and lock the door behind me. He takes me upstairs and into his room. I take off my shoes and place them neatly by his door, watching as he does the same. 

I sigh as I lie down on his comfy bed. It’s much nicer than mine, soft but firm. Mine is missing springs, dents in the mattress where they should be. “I’m gonna take a shower.” I look over at Gage and he’s pulling his sweater over his head. I can’t help but smile at the sight, my cheeks screaming in protest. I’ve never seen him without it. His t-shirt hangs loosely on his thin frame, making him look smaller than he already is. “I didn’t think you could look any cuter.” I move to lay on my side, resting my head on my hand. He smiles at me, though I can see the light blush at his ears. “Shush. Do you want one after me?” I think for a bit. I probably should. “Yeah, sure. As long as I get to listen to music.” He giggles. “If you want. I won’t take long.” He takes out some clothes from his drawer, then goes to the bathroom in his room. He shuts the door and I pick up my phone. I turned it off a while ago, so I could enjoy my time with Gage. 

I turn it on, chewing on my lip as I wait for the android screen to change. As soon as it does, practically a million notifications pop up. I groan, already knowing where most of them came from. I scroll through and swipe away all the missed calls and messages from John. There’s no point in responding now. I’ll send him a message in the morning. I get rid of all the youtube notifications. I don’t really feel like watching any of them. I stop when I see Xander’s name. 

August 21. 12:34am. 

Xander: Hey Y/N. We need to talk. Meet tmmr at 2?

I can’t help but stare wide-eyed at the message. He hasn’t texted me since…June 7th- when he asked me to come meet him at the mall with his now ex girlfriend. What is it he wants to talk about? We’ve needed to talk for the past 5 goddamn months. I swear to god, if he wants to talk about some dumb shit again, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from blowing up on him this time.

I roll my eyes and text him back. Despite being really annoyed, I really do want to talk with him. Even if he wants to talk about dumb shit, I’ll make him listen to me. 

August 21. 2:13am.

okay. where?

As I’m placing my phone down, the screen lights up again. My eyebrows furrow. Xander messaged me back already? Bitch must be desperate. 

Xander: How about that bookstore you always wont shut up about? 

Okay, consider me confused. He’s never wanted to go to the bookstore, let alone go somewhere that I like. I sit up, texting him back again.

works with me, but why there?

Xander: Idk. Thought youd like that ig. Could get lunch after. I’ll pay

i cant say no to free food

Xander: K. C u then

C u

I hear the sound of the door swinging open and I look over. All thoughts of Xander escape my mind as I gape at the boy by the door. “Told you I wouldn’t take long,” Gage mumbles as he dries his hair with a towel. I can feel the bite of the blush rising up my cheeks. “I didn’t doubt you.” I look back down at my phone for just a minute, clicking out of the messages app and opening my music app. I look back at him and he’s shaking his head. Adorable. I stand up, sliding my phone in my pocket. I walk over to him and he flushes as I get closer. “You look so pretty,” I smile before placing a small kiss on his lips. His face goes pink and the bathroom light illuminating his face doesn’t hide it at all. He shakes his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Take your shower, dummy.” He goes to the edge of his bed, kneeling down to open my backpack. I chuckle as I watch him take out my clothes. I wonder how he’d look in them. 

After my shower, I look in the mirror as I dry my hair. I sigh, leaning closer to look at the deep purple lines under my eyes. They’ve been getting worse even though I’ve been getting…okay sleep. Could be stress, I guess. Or maybe it’s the nightmares finally catching up to me. I turn my gaze away, tossing the towel into the hamper by the door. I turn off the light and open the door. Gage is already in bed, his phone placed on the bedside table. He moves his arm over the blanket, lifting it up. “I’m tired. Come sleep?” I smile sheepishly and place my phone on the table next to his before sliding into bed with him.

August 21. 10:16am.

Sleeping in a bed next to Gage made the nightmare go away. I didn’t dream or anything, but that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while. I look down at the boy beside me. The light peeking through his curtains bathes him in a light that makes his skin look like it’s glowing. The sight takes my breath away. I move my hand up to brush his bangs out of his face slowly, pressing my fingertips against his face. I don’t dare move anything else. I don’t want to wake him up. I let out a silent breath. I try not to think of the messages I must have from John. I need to stop letting him ruin these moments for me, especially when he’s not even fucking here. 

“You like watching me sleep? Creep,” Gage murmurs, his eyes opening slowly. My face heats up. “How could I not when you look this enchanting?” I smile. He closes his eyes again, a smile of his own touching his lips. “Shut uppp,” he whines, scooching closer to me. He pushes his face into my chest, and I laugh. “Going back to sleep?” I ask as I pet his hair. He hums and it vibrates my chest, making me feel so nervous. He mumbles something against my shirt. “What was that?” I chuckle. He pulls back, groaning. “I said I guess I probably shouldn’t. You need to go home sometime today.” He stretches, and I watch him. “Doesn’t that just mean we have to spend as much time together as we can until I leave?” I smile. He huffs and looks up at me. “I guess.” He tries but fails, a smile pulling at his lips. 

After we share a few more kisses, we decide to get up and get something to eat. We walk hand in hand down the sidewalk for a while. He’s taking me to his favorite breakfast place that’s just outside his neighborhood. 

My gaze is on the houses as we pass them. His neighborhood is the nicest I’ve ever been in, which doesn’t say much. All my previous friends have had run-down looking houses, and the others in their neighborhoods weren’t any better. The best was always Xander’s, until he moved out of his parents’ to live in a shitty garage-turned-apartment on his own. Xander. I miss Xander. My face droops a bit at the thought of him, and the thought of seeing him later today. I think Gage notices, but if he does he doesn’t say anything. I chew on my lip. I don’t need to think about him when I’m with Gage. 

He leads me up to the door of the restaurant and opens it for me. I smile. “Already opening doors for me,” I smirk smugly. “Shhhh,” He shushes, walking in after me. The restaurant is small, about five tables inside with two outside. The smell of butter, syrup, and eggs fills the air with an oddly comforting scent. I walk him over to a table with two chairs in the corner, right by the window. He sits in the chair opposite of mine, and I look out the window. From here, I can really see how nice his area is. The sidewalks on either side are free from overgrown grass and cracks in the cement; no potholes in the pavement nor broken beer cans or burnt and stomped out cigarettes. Though he doesn’t live far away from me, we’re still miles apart. 

“Hi, welcome to Granny’s kitchen. What can I get you?” I turn my gaze to see a short, dark skinned girl. She looks around our age, no lines of age gracing her clear skin. Her hair is braided and tied back into a low ponytail. There’s menus already laid on the table. How was I so focused on just the outside? I pick up the menu, my eyes scanning the laminated paper quickly to find something. I feel Gage’s fingers on my hands, sliding up and down so gently I almost didn’t catch it. “We’re gonna need a bit more time. Could I get a cup of herbal tea?” I look back up at him, and though he’s speaking to her, his eyes are on me- and he’s smiling. My face flushes and I resist the all too familiar urge to pull away. The waitress nods at him then turns to me.

“And for you?” She asks. “I’ll just have water.” She offers me a small smile. “Gotcha. I’ll be back with those drinks in a bit.” She turns away and heads to the kitchen door. I look at Gage, and his fingers are tracing mine as my hands still grip the menu. I bite my lip and look down. On the menu are a selection of breakfast, lunch, and dinner options. Though I prefer dinner or even lunch over any breakfast stuff, the chocolate chip pancakes catch my eye.

Under the breakfast options are breakfast sides to choose from. I can’t eat much, so I’m going to have to hope they let me get the kids. “Do you know what you’re getting?” Gage’s voice brings me out of my thinking. I look up at him. “Oh. Yeah, I think so. Um, do you know if they have an age limit for the kids portions?” I ask nervously. It feels so embarrassing to ask a question like that. What kind of 17 year old boy orders off the kids menu? 

“No, they don’t.” And there’s that sweet smile. “I usually order off of it. I don’t have a big appetite most of the time,” his hand is still resting on mine and, instinctively, I pull my arm away. Something keeps me from letting him touch me this much, in this way; I don’t know what, but right now, I don’t really care to think about it. “Good. Me neither.” I respond, my gaze dropping back to the menu, though I’m done reading it. He doesn’t speak up again until the waitress comes up to the table, which makes me wonder if I did something wrong. 

“Here’s your tea, and your coke,” She speaks as she places our drinks down in front of us. She smiles, and I can see she’s got those cool fang piercings. “Need more time?” She asks, glancing from me to Gage and back. “I think we’re good.” I look over at Gage and he nods. “I’ll have the kid’s chocolate chip pancakes with bacon.” I don’t usually eat out like this, so the words sound shaky and not right coming out of my mouth. Luckily, the waitress doesn’t seem to mind, or care. “Alright, and for you?” 

Gage tells her his order, and she walks back off after telling us it won’t take long. The rest of the breakfast goes by quickly, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I like spending time with Gage, especially when it could be considered as a date, but I can’t help but feel this weird sinking feeling. As if something’s going to go wrong at any moment. That, plus I’ve been so anxious the whole time about seeing Xander in just a few hours. It doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right. 

When I went to take the bill, Gage swoops it up. “I was gonna-” “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You paid at the diner last night,” He smiled at me before taking out his card. I bit my lip. I wanted to say he doesn’t have to. I wanted to say he shouldn’t pay for me because I don’t deserve that kind of treatment. But, as always, I said nothing.

[ultralightpoe]

hi ultra:D can I please request a song for an Eddie Munson imagine? I was thinking maybe ‘Time’ by NF? if it’s not a song you are comfortable with or if you don’t write for his character - disregard this with no worries!:) glad to have you back and posting!! I hope you are well darling

Time - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: AN EDDIE REQUEST! YES! I HAVE NEVER HAD AN EDDIE REQUEST

Warnings: Angst, trauma, depression Eddie is a massive dickkkkkkkkkkk

Word Count: 2436

Description: Eddie can't ever seem to open up to you.

Enjoy!

Even if we both break down tonight

And you say you hate me, and we go to bed angry

I know everything will be alright

I'll be here waiting, I promise I'm changing

I just need

Eddie woke up on the rug of the apartment living room floor, eyes stinging from the crying and throat dry from the night of yelling that had taken place. It took him a moment to regain himself, picking himself up to look around the apartment, a hopeful feeling in his chest that you would be in the room and you hadn’t actually left. 

No such luck, you were nowhere in sight. 

A dull ache in his chest to match the one in his head caused by a hangover, the chest was due to heartbreak. He was sure of it. 

Trudging through the hall to get to the kitchen and find the bottle of Advil you always restocked. A harsh curse escaped him when he stepped on a piece of glass, pulling his foot up to hop away from the shattered bottles on the tile of the floor. 

“Jesus fuc-”

“Eddie?” Linda, your neighbor, calls before knocking on the door. 

“Yeah! Just um- one sec!”

A little time to show you I'm worth it

I know that I can be a difficult person

I'm a stress case, drive you up the wall when I'm workin'

Actually, I'm probably worse when I'm not, you don't deserve it

Make you nervous 'cause you know I'ma break soon

Every time I do, I say somethin' that hurts you

Actin' like I'm gone, but we both in the same room

I don't like to be wrong, which I know you relate to

And I know I make you feel like you're at the end of your rope

—-------------------------

He had come home drunk, four hours after telling you he was going out for spaghetti noodles, and you were waiting by the front door with your arms crossed and lips sneered. There were frown lines forming on your face and your hair was all out of place. 

“Please don’t star-” Eddie whines, using the wall to walk to the couch, woozy and halfway gone. “Always with the nagging.”

“Nagging?” You laugh dryly, following him to the living room. Watching as he lays on the couch and you stay standing. “Enough. Enough of this.”

“Enough of what?” He laughs, acting incredulous. 

“Eds, you said you were going out to get spaghetti noodles for our dinner and you stumbled in four hours later drunk as a skunk.” You seethe, reaching a hand to snap at him back awake. “This is a problem-”

“You don’t understand-”

“And here we go with the ‘you don’t understand’ bullshit. ‘Y/n I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. I nearly lost my life. I can’t talk about it but it was so traumatic-’ I’m so sic”

“Are you mocking me right now?” He snaps, sitting up on the couch to glare at you. “Fuck you Y/n.”

“No FUCK YOU!” The first yell of the night, and you were expecting it to be the last as you stormed off down the hall. Normally he would give up and stay on the couch, but tonight seemed to be a good night to fight. 

“HEY! GET BACK HERE!” He shouts, following you down the hall just in time to see you snatch a bag from the closet and start filling it with clothes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” 

“LEAVING. Packing.” You reiterate, sparing him a side eye right as he lunges forward to try and snatch the bag. You keep a firm grasp on it and for a moment you both are wrestling over the bag. “I am tired. Eddie, I am so tired of this.”

“Tired of what?!” He snaps, finally pulling the bag from your grasp. 

“I am wasting my life on you!” You sob, the tears you had been fighting all night finally releasing. “I get it, you went through something terrible, and I am sorry I mocked it tonight because that is completely fucked up. But Eds you can’t do this. You can’t do this to me.”

“Do what to you?” He sneers. “I’m sorry Y/n, is my pain hurting you?!”

“IT IS! YOU!  THE SECRETS AND THE DRINKING!”

“WHAT FUCKING SECRETS?!”

“EDS I NEVER MEET YOUR FRIENDS! YOU NEVER LET ME MEET THEM AND YOU NEVER SPEAK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED!”

“BECAUSE IT’S NONE. OF. YOUR. FUCKING. BUSINESS!” His face is beet red now, hair swinging wildly as you stare at him in shock. The silence of the room makes his heart start racing rapidly. 

“Then why am I here?” You ask softly, shoulders slumping.  He stares for a moment before walking out of the room, your bag still in hand. 

That's when I look at you and tell you I'd be better alone

Just the pride talkin', isn't it? 'Cause both of us know

I'm the definition of "wreck" if you look into my soul

Comes out the most when I feel I'm in a vulnerable place

Made a lot of mistakes I wish I knew how to erase

When I'm afraid, might get distant and I push you away

But no matter the case, I'ma do whatever it takes even if

The older woman is smiling softly when he opens the door, the overly blushed cheeks round and puffy as her teeth flash. “Oh hello Edward dear.”

“Morning.” He nods, clearing his throat as he tries to stand straighter and seem normal. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh well, I- uhm, well while you usually…..sleep in in the mornings Y/n comes over and makes some breakfast with me and last night I heard some yelling and she didn’t come by this morning-”

“I have no clue where she is.” Eddie interrupts, a harsh wave of panic filling his body as he realizes he had no clue where you were. “But I will send her over when she comes back.”

“Oh….okay.” She nods, walking away before he can say anything else, leaving him standing there, finally coming to terms with it. 

How long had you been going to breakfast with the neighbor when he slept in hungover? How had he not known you were that close with your neighbor? How much was he missing? How much did he not know about you? How much had he hurt you?

Even if we both break down tonight

And you say you hate me, and we go to bed angry

I know everything will be alright

I'll be here waiting, I promise I'm changing

I just need

—-----------

Although everything in you screams to just fall into bed and forget it you follow him down the hall anyways, watching as he throws your bag on the living room floor before marching into the kitchen and swinging the fridge door open. 

Some of the magnets fall, a glass one snapping when it hits the floor, and you watch as Eddie reaches a ringed hand to snatch the pack of beer he had in the fridge. 

“What are you doin-” You’re cut off, a scream tearing through you when he lifts his hand up and slams the bottle into the floor. Glass goes flying and beer spraying everywhere, and you cover your face so you don’t get hit. 

“THIS WHAT YOU WANT? HUH?!” He shouts, snatching another bottle from the pack and repeating the action. This time you were not so lucky and a piece of the glass catches your arm, and then everything breaks. 

Your world shatters to bits when the blood starts leaking from the wound, it wasn’t enough to actually hurt, but the idea of it hurt more. The illusion that broke finally left you broken. 

This was not the Eddie you knew. And this was not the Eddie you would stay with. 

Leaving him to have his fun breaking bottles you go and snatch your bag from where he threw it and watch from a safe distance as he breaks the last bottle. 

When he is done he looks at you and your face is hot from the tears. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too.” He laughs. 

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!” You scream, a cracking feeling in your chest as you make your way to the door. “You’re better off alone-”

“I AM BETTER OFF ALONE! WITHOUT YOUR ANNOYING FUCKING SELF ALWAYS NEAR ME!” He screams, and you don’t waste your breath on a reply, slamming the door behind you. 

Yeah, way before I bought you the ring

We were fighting back and forth like you were wearin' the thing

Two passionate people not afraid to say what they think

Lead to passionate conversation when it's hard to agree

You know me well, sittin' on the edge of my seat

Lookin' at life, overanalyzin' everything

Always depressed, tryna find a better version of me

Searching for somethin' I know's prolly right in front of my feet

The sickening feeling was not from the hangover, that he was sure, and throwing up would do nothing to fix it for you would still be gone and he would still be alone on the living room floor. 

He had proposed, almost 4 months ago, and he doesn’t remember the last time you both talked about the wedding. Had you even talked about it at all? Or had you known not to waste time on him? 

The phone rings around noon and Eddie launches up to answer, panting a bit as he puts the receiver against his ears. “Y/n?”

“No, Eddie, it’s Dustin.” The voice on the end answers, disappointment filling him at the sound, though he had never been disappointed by Dustin calling before. “Everything good?”

“Oh yeah….yeah man-”

“Are you sure because last we talked you sounded pretty bad.”

“I…. just need time-”

“You say that a lot Eddie. Look, I know I’m just a freshman at Harvard…..one of the best schools EVER, but I think you really need help. Not that my opinion matters, just a straight A HARVARD student and all……”

“I don’t want to talk about-”

“How about therapy?”

“Dustin I really-”

“Steve is in therapy. And Nancy and robin, max, lucas, will,-”

“Got it. I got it. Thanks.” Before his friend could respond he hung up and lay back down, closing his eyes to stop the tears. Jesus, he had really messed things up. 

Stubborn as me? Maybe not, but you're close to it

Got a lot of issues, I'm tryin' to work through 'em

Going to therapy for you's somethin' that's worth doin'

When I know you been there for me through all of my worst moments

And I know it hurts knowing that I carry this weight on my chest

Making it difficult for me to open up and connect

Lot of regrets, I apologize for all of the stress

That's not what I meant to do, you know I love you to death even if-

You didn’t come back for a few days, but Eddie was hopeful that you would considering you needed the rest of your things. 

So he busied himself, cleaning and cleaning and more cleaning. Anytime he wanted a drink he went and laid down, or stared at the picture of you on his nightstand. 

By the time you did come back he had the place completely spotless, and you stopped short when you saw it, and blinked at him where he sat on the couch. 

He was terrified to move, terrified that if he moved you would leave and he would never see you again. So he sat still, muscles tense, as he blinked at you while you blink at him. “I…….”

Just as he expected, the peace broke. Within moments you were walking away, heading to the room and he was doomed to follow. 

He stands in the doorway of the room, watching as you unpack the bag which he took as a really good sign. “I….. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Neither do I.” You mutter, rubbing your face as you move to sit on the bed. “I was way out of line for mocking you and-”

“You’re not the one that apologizes here. That’s me. You did nothing wrong-”

“I did-”

“No. I…… I have wasted so much of your time and…….I would like to tell you…..about- I want to talk about it.” 

“About what?”

He takes three easy steps across the floor and sits on the bed with you, pulling his sleeve up to show some of the scars. You knew they were worse on his stomach and he seemed just fine with showing you the arm at the moment. “This is gonna sound absolutely insane……”

Even if we both break down tonight

And you say you hate me, and we go to bed angry

I know everything will be alright

I'll be here waiting, I promise I'm changing

I just need

Time (oh)

I, I need time (oh, oh)

I just need time (oh)

I, I need time (oh)

Time (oh), time (oh)

I just need time (oh)

I, I need time (oh, oh)

I just need time (oh)

I, I need time (oh)

Time (oh), time (oh)

You were waiting outside the therapist office, smacking your gum harshly in a slight attempt to amuse yourself as you waited for Eddie in his session. 

You had packed a book and snacks, but the book ended up boring you and the snacks were long gone so you had taken to hanging your feet out the window to catch them in the sunlight as the radio played some crappy tune. 

You hum, terribly since you had never heard the song, and closed your eyes. This was the new normal, once a week you would hang out in Eddie's van as he spent time with a therapist and after that you would go get dinner together. And you loved it. 

A scream rips from you when something touches the bottom of your foot and you sit up quickly to reveal the face of Eddie. He laughs, leaning through the window to kiss you before slapping your calf lightly. 

“Okay, let’s go.” He smiles, rushing around to his side and hopping in. You smile, lifting your head until he is comfortable then laying it on his lap. “Anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

“Be serious.” You blush, reaching a hand up to flick him. 

“I am serious, baby. Dead serious. Dead sober.”

“It just takes time.”

[grimes-luvr]

promise.

carl grimes x fem!reader

angst && slight fluff at the end <33 !!

|| summary - carl runs to hilltop alone and hops on one of negan’s supply trucks. when he comes back with negan himself, you can’t help but be angry, worried, and concerned for what he did.

warnings - mentions of murder, death, blood, gore, weapons, language, violence, angry carl & reader, yelling, enid doesn’t exist (solely for plot reasons, i’m an enid stan fs), carl & reader are dating

“your kid gunned down two of my men! and you know what i did? i brought him home, safe and sound, and i made him spaghetti.”

negan looked over at where y/n and carl were standing. olivia’s dead body sat at their feet. y/n glared straight into his eyes, quite frankly unafraid of the pathetic man in front of her.

“all while that girl stared me down! the least she could do was say a little thank you. my, my, she is creepy!”

her eyes were cold. carl had been trying to get her to look at him since he got back, but his attempts failed. she always looked in the other direction or continue to glower at negan.

the audacity that the man had to barge into their homes, kill two of their people (although spencer definitely deserved it), and ask for gratitude was insane. y/n wanted to put a bullet through his head.

———————————————————————

it had been almost an hour since negan and his people left, and y/n still wouldn’t speak to carl. he was starting to worry - it was the first time she had ever seen his eye and she was avoiding him.

he couldn’t take it anymore, so when y/n walked into the house, looking for michonne, he confronted her.

“are you avoiding me?” he asked.

“where’s michonne?” she asked monotonously.

“out. don’t avoid the damn question, y/n, are you avoiding me?”

y/n didn’t answer. instead, she headed upstairs to search for michonne in case carl was lying.

“where-“ carl started, but decided it was useless to ask and just started following her. she looked in every room in the house, eventually reaching carl’s and finding nothing. before she could leave, carl stood in front of the door.

“move,” she mumbled, still not looking at him.

“why? why have you been ignoring me all day?” carl asked.

“just fucking move.”

his voice started to break, “is it because of my eye?”

her fists were clenched and her eyes were narrowed at the ground until she heard him sniffle.

“are you crying?”

“stop ignoring all of my questions, y/n. please. just answer it,” his chin quivered as he spoke, making y/n feel absolutely terrible.

“carl, no-“

“so what is it then? i have been waiting hours for you to say anything to me, and you’re angry at me. why? what did i do?”

“you left,” y/n looked down at the ground again.

“what?”

“you left. without telling me, without saying goodbye, without offering to let me go with you. you could’ve died, carl. then i wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye. i was worried about you, and when the saviors pulled up to the gates with you in the truck, and your bandage off, i knew something was wrong. then when negan said what happened, i knew you were just being stupid. you could have gotten yourself killed this morning, and what would that leave me? carl, i know you want him dead, so do i, but i cannot lose you. we’ve lost too much- i’ve lost too much,” she said, starting to cry too. carl just stared blankly at her, taking in everything she just said.

once he processed it all, he felt like puking. he didn’t realize how much it affected the ones he loved, the one he loved. the only aspect of death that he had imagined upon arrival was negan’s body in front of him and the blood on his hands. he had almost forgotten that he wasn’t immortal himself.

and once he gathered his thoughts, they were too much. he broke down, grabbing a hold of y/n and hugging her tightly like if he let go, she’d disappear.

“i’m sorry,” he sobbed into her hair, “i’m so sorry.”

——————————————————————

“hey carl,” y/n whispered, her voice muffled by his chest. he hummed in response, his arms still almost painfully enclosing her.

“why did you think i was mad at you for your eye?”

carl paused for a good minute, “that’s not important.”

“yeah, it is.”

he paused again, this time for a little longer.

“i’m scared.”

“of what?” y/n asked, pulling away from the hug and holding carl’s face in her hands.

“my eye, it’s gross. i felt like once you saw it, you’d realize i was disgusting-looking. i don’t want you to leave me,” he avoided her eyes, slightly ashamed.

“carl, i’d never leave you. i wouldn’t care if you had three eyes. you’re not disgusting, you just look different. and that is perfectly fine, okay? i’d never be enough of a dick to leave you because of something you can’t control. i love you,” she kissed him softly.

“i love you too,” carl said, letting out a shaky breath.

“you needed your bandage changed this morning right?” y/n asked. carl nodded. “well, since olivia . . . can’t help you anymore, do you want me to do it?”

“yeah,” carl said, a little bit of panic in his voice.

“hey, don’t worry, i’ll make it quick. i know the shit stings.”

y/n moved the hair out of carl’s eye. she inspected it, making sure there were no infections or pieces of hair stuck to it. she cautiously picked out stray strands, careful not to hurt carl. she then cleaned it and held the base gauze to his socket while carl wrapped it comfortably.

“it’s good, no infections or other unknown damage. it’s nice you let it air out for a bit, helps with the healing. it looks fine, you’ve been doing good with the regular changes,” she smiled and kissed his forehead.

“thank you,” he said quietly.

“no big deal, carl. just promise me you won’t leave again? at least without saying goodbye.”

“promise.”

——————————————————————

a/n: this shit was all over the place, but yooo my first carl fic !! feel free to send requests, nothing nsfw cus carl’s a minor (and i’m ace) 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check In September 15th and 16th, 2023 🎀

I was a bit stressed on Friday. And really tired. Like crying on the phone talking to my dad about how tired I was. I did not want to go to work, but I did and had a goodnight regardless. Everything worked itself out and I stopped stressing so hard. I was gonna rest before I had to go to work but my friend decided to talk my ear off for an hour about her family woes, even after I told her I wanted to rest my brain for a bit. I love helping my friends when I can but sometimes I just need a break from socializing.

there’s not much to update on but I’ll give an update regardless!

🩷 What I Ate Sept 15th -

Breakfast - bagel sandwich and a coffee

Lunch - bagel w whipped cream cheese and another coffee

Dinner - Alfredo pasta w spinach and chicken and a small salad w egg, cheese, and a little ranch dressing

Extra - morning coffee at home and not near enough water. Also some mini mint chocolate candies, like three

I was really feeling bagels. They were so good.

🩷 What I Ate Sept 16th -

Breakfast - Scrambled eggs on brioche style bread with slices of cheddar cheese

Dinner - Two bowls of spaghetti with marinara sauce and grated Parmesan cheese

Snack - macaroni cup, three cups of coffee

I just realized I didn’t take a break to eat lunch at work today. That is the first time I’ve ever forgotten to do that.

🩷 What I Accomplished Sept 15th & 16th -

Worked a total of 13.5 hours at my job

A lot of self compassion and rest

Morning skincare and night skincare routine (sept 16th)

Studied Japanese 10+ minutes each day

Reorganized my desk with my new desk supplies

I received some new acrylic desk organizers, stationery, and Japanese study books today! I bought two writing workbooks and I bought the Genki I and Genki II textbook + workbook + answer key bundle off of Amazon and I am so excited to start using them all soon! In my Japanese studying so far, I’ve memorized almost the entire hiragana chart and started keeping a physical list/anki flashcard set of hiragana vocabulary off of Duolingo and have been practicing my writing on Renshuu. Renshuu is surprisingly such a great tool for me right now, like it’s the complete reason I memorized the hiragana so fast. My plan is to start using Genki I right after I memorize (most of) the katakana. I’ve been listening to Japanese music a lot and talking out loud to myself on occasion. I’m just super excited about this language.

I think I’m quickly approaching the edge of burnout right now and I’m desperately trying to find a way to delay the burnout or stop myself from burning out altogether because I have too much on my plate to just lose myself now. Like I’m genuinely enjoying everything I do in a day but it’s tiring me out. I don’t sleep very well right now, I’m not working out, my nutrition isn’t the best, I over-consume caffeine and I’ve been neglecting my self care. I am working to regain balance because I don’t want to tire myself while trying to build the best life for myself. Todays first step was keeping my promise to do skincare and study Japanese. Tomorrow will be skincare, weekly planning, and completing my due assignments and notes. If I can rebuild trust with myself, I have a good feeling I can get back on track with my daily ideal routines. Just need to take it one step at a time.

I know my blog appears that everything is so great and girly and perfect for me but my life is not like that entirely. I do romanticize my life in the way I live it, I am the main character if my own story, but life is life and stuff happens. I don’t have the perfect body or health, I don’t have the best discipline or motivation sometimes, and yeah, my life isn’t perfect. However, I am still so grateful for the life I am currently living, a life that I never thought I’d be so content with. This blog has helped me determine the direction to go in and keeps me motivated often, and I am so at peace and proud of all that I’ve built and have had help creating for myself. Thank you to everyone who reads this. It is the little interactions, the daily notifications, the pride I get from my consistent updates that keeps me level. This is therapeutic for me in a way. Like an online diary. And I absolutely love the space it’s given me to be my true self, my most comfortable self. I am not perfect but i am happy. Happy with my progress and my journey and my community.

Sorry for the little joyful ramble. Again, I appreciate this community so much. I wouldn’t have driven my life in this path without this community.

🩷 Song of The Day - The Greatest by Sia

One of my all time favorite motivational songs. Just listen to the lyrics. Absolutely simple and amazingly powerful.

that’s all for these last two days! Will be getting more detailed in my daily accomplishments, and am working on a stationary review though I did order more so I might way until it gets here to complete the review post!

Til next time, lovelies 🩷🤍

[everythingsf1ne23]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞

 | 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘗𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘳 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 💌:

enjoy my lovelies <33 ~Jess

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 📝:

in which, Dex took her by surprise by asking her out on a date and this is how the date goes 

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘷:

When Dex asked me out, I must admit I was quite surprised as I thought that I wouldn’t be pretty enough for him but here I am in my apartment getting ready, 

I’ve treated myself to a short sage green dress for this date, I decide to pair it with white platform heels, my handbag and lastly I put a white bow in my hair.

Afterwards, I start my makeup and I check the time, 6:30pm so that means I only have half an hour to finish getting ready, 

I do my makeup quite natural and I finish off with a spritz of perfume. 

Just after I finish getting ready, the doorbell to my home rings indicating that Dex is here, I practically run to the door with excitement.

I lock the door to my house and I turn to face Dex, he is dressed up real nice.

“Wow you look absolutely stunning!” Dex exclaims and I could feel my cheeks turning rosy 

“Thank you, you’re looking very handsome” I reply as he takes my hand into his own

“No problem and thanks, I don’t get told that very often”

“Well you should be told that and hopefully I’ll be able to tell you more often”

I say without thinking and I look over to see Dex smiling

“That’s obviously only if you still like me and my company after this date” I tell him and he looks directly into my eyes,

“I’ve been crushing on you for ages, I don’t think I could ever get tired of you and your company” 

The two of us continue walking hand in hand while talking for a few moments,

“So where are you taking me for our date?” I ask Dex with a soft smile.

“I remember you telling me that you love Italian food so I assumed that an Italian 

restaurant would be a good option

 for this date”, my heart melts I can’t believe that he remembers me telling him that especially after I only said it once 

“That sounds amazing!” I respond.

We’re now at our table, it has a window view which is nice ‘cause I like looking out of windows but something tells me that tonight I won’t be looking out that window very often as I’ll be looking right at the beautiful man in front of me.

I quickly look through the menu and I pick out carbonara as that’s my favourite,

“I’m gonna get the carbonara, what are you gonna have?” I ask him out of curiosity and also because I love how he speaks.

“I’m thinking of having the spaghetti bolognese”, Dex replies and his eyes are on me again 

“That’s a great choice!” I exclaim with a bright smile and then we order our meals

“You’re always so bubbly and kind, I really admire that about you” I watch Dex smiling at me and he has a glimmer in his eyes,

“Aww I always try to be” 

“I’ve been thinking about this date all week” Our meals come over quicker than expected to us and we tuck in straight away

“I have to, I’ve been so excited but honestly I wasn’t expecting you to ask me out, I thought that you would have went for someone prettier than me” I reply with honesty in my voice, suddenly Dex reaches across the table and he takes my hands into his

“You’re joking right? There’s no girl like you here, I mean you’re kind, honest and really pretty, you don’t find those qualities all in one girl very often and it may be too early to say this but I’m saying it anyways, honestly you might be the one for me”

I didn’t realise I was crying but after a while, I felt my cheeks getting wet and Dex reaches over to me with a tissue

“Are you okay?” He asks softly and I nod 

“Yeah I am, I’ve just never felt this loved before” I wipe my tears away with my tissue and I sigh as I’ve probably ruined my makeup 

“Well you deserve to and I’ll make sure that you feel loved everyday”

“Really?” I ask taking another bite of my carbonara 

“Yes of course I will”

The both of us finish our meal asking questions about one another, we take glances and smiles at each other every so often 

“I’ve had a great time with you”, I tell him as we exit the restaurant 

“I’m glad that you did” 

We notice that it’s raining outside but thankfully my house is quite close to the restaurant, I notice Dex sighing as he knew that he would have to walk back to his apartment in the rain

“You can stay with me tonight if you want, I wouldn’t want you getting a cold by getting all wet from this rain” I suggest to Dex

“Okay that would be actually great” 

Dex and I reach my house, I fumble with the keys for a few moments but then I find the right key for the front door, 

“I’ll sleep on the sofa if that’s okay” Dex tells me, 

“You could share my bed with me” 

I reply with a flirtatious smile and with that, Dex joins me to my bedroom.

We change out of our wet clothes and afterwards we lay beside each other in my bed,

“You know I couldn’t ask for anyone better than you Dex” I speak out and I turn my head to look at him 

“You’re genuinely the best thing that’s ever happened to me”, my heart melts once more after I hear him say this,

I feel so comfortable around Dex so I ask him,

“Usually I wouldn’t ask this after a first date but can I kiss you?” 

I watch his face light up,

“Yeah I’d really like that”

“Oh would you?” 

I tease him while leaning in 

“Yes obviously” I press my lips against his, it feels so right like it was meant to be,

we pull away after a few moments 

“I really enjoyed that” Dex tells me with a cheeky grin,

“I’m glad ‘cause there’s plenty more for you pretty boy” 

And with that, I lay on his chest as we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[mayisgoingnuts]

It’s a little slow but that’s okay!!

Rai cried longer than she ever had, especially infront of Elaine. She did stop eventually, but she felt numb. Like she could’t move or breathe, almost like she shouldn’t. Elaine just sat in silence, she wasn’t sure how to help, so she just held her. “Do you..want to go home?” Elaine asked in a whisper, Rai nodded slowly. “To your house or my house?” Elaine just wanted the best, if Rai wanted to be alone she’d leave her alone. “Do you think you can stay at my house..?” Rai’s voice was strained because of how hard she had been crying. “I’ll ask my dad, then while i'm walking you down there i'll see if he answers. Okay?” She was so gentle with her words, Rai nodded slowly and tried standing up. Though her legs were still way too weak. Elaine had to help her up, making it difficult to get down the hill. They walked slowly up and down the streets, for Rai’s sake. She was still shaking as if it was below freezing outside. Elaine tried to make conversation to keep her mind off of things, but it wasn’t working well. Everytime Rai would answer it was bland and short. She tried her best to avoid talking about the subject, but Rai just turned it around. After a couple of minutes Elaine just stayed quiet, hoping it might help.

After about twenty minutes of walking they made it to Rai’s house. “Did your dad ever answer..?” Rai questioned, Elaine had to think for a minute before remembering she had to ask her dad. She quickly pulled out her phone and looked, she smiled widely as she looked at the message. “He said yes!” Elaine exclaimed as she stepped inside with Rai. At this point Rai had refused to let her help with walking anymore. Elaine was worried about her nonetheless, she thought it might be worse than they thought considering Rai was limping. Yet she continued to limp around the house, leading Elaine to her room. Even if she already knew where it was. When she stepped in she was greeted by her cat laying on her bed. The cat stood up and just meowed, happy to see her. She walked up to her bed and picked him up. “Oh quit yelling.. Are you hungry?” She set him down and went to her dresser, grabbing a bag of treats from inside. She looked up at Elaine, who was already looking at her. She gave her a look, and Elaine nodded as a response. Rai tossed the bag and the cats attention was now on Elaine as she held the bag of treats. The cat ran to the other side of the bed and tried to crawl on Elaine. She struggled to get the bag open for a moment, but when she had it she tossed a treat to the middle of the bed. The cat quickly ran to the area and sniffed around to find it. She was about to throw the bag back but Rai shook her head, “Put it in the side table drawer. I’ve gotta move it so he doesn’t find it.” She explained, Elaine nodded and did as told before sitting down on a bean bag Rai had in her room.

Rai then jumped on her bed, grabbing the cat and forcing him to stay close. He seemed annoyed but he didn’t try to move or anything. She began to just talk to him like he was a person, Elaine thought this was adorable. “Oh wait- we should probably eat.” Rai realized, Elaine nodded in agreement. Rai put the cat down and got off the bed, helping Elaine get up from the bean bag chair. When they left the room the cat followed, he made it to the kitchen mch faster than them. He jumped on the container with his food and started meowing again. Rai sighed, “How many times to i need to tell you? I can’t feed you if you’re on the food bucket..” She mumbled to herself as she picked him up and dropped him to the floor, opening the container before he could jump on it again. She used the scoup to put some food in his bowl, then took his other bowl and got him some water. Elaine was just looking around aimlessly during all this. When Rai finished she began to walk around the kitchen to find something to eat, grabbing Elaines attentions. “Okay..we have some spaghetti left overs..Some frozen stuff I can put in the microwave…or we have stuff to make sandwiches.” Rai listed, counting on her fingers. She looked up at when she finished listing them off. Elaine knew Rai would make her pick, Rai didn’t like taking the first option or making the first decision. She would rather have others happy, she’d take whats left. “What about that left over spaghetti? That sounds pretty good.” Rai nodded and grabbed some things out of the fridge. The plain noodles, the sauce, and parmesan. She then went to grab two bowls for them, Elaine opened the containers during this. “Plain noodles? Why not just make it with the sauce?” She was confused, Rai came back with the bowls soon enough though. “Oh, my uncles make it that way because my brother doesn’t like the sauce.” “Which one?” Rai shrugged, “I forget, they’re equally picky when it comes to food. Me? I don’t care much, it isn’t that important to me.” She explained as she put some of the spaghetti and sauce in a bowl before going to put it in the microwave. As she pressed the buttons to start it Elaine had put some food in her own bowl. “Well you have to have some standards. Aren’t there foods you don’t like?” She asked without looking, still focused on the task at hand. “I mean..i don’t like poptarts very much. They’re too sweet- makes me want to throw up.” Rai had gone to get cups, “Anyways- what do you want to drink? We’ve got tea, soda, water..” She had begun to make herself a cup of tea. “I don’t like tea, you know that! It’s just leafy water.” Elaine complained, Rai just shrugged as a response. “Still an option if you want it.” “Hmm..what kinds of soda?” Elained asked, moving to look inside the fridge. Rai had gone to grab her bowl out of the microwave, putting Elaines bowl in to warm it up. Elaine had grabbed a can of soda she liked, she put some ice in her cup before pouring the can into the cup. She took the tab off and set it on the counter. Rai had grabbed it and put it in her pocket. The two silently worked beside each other.

Eventually they were both sitting at the table with thier food and drinks. They talked and talked while they ate. They talked about any and every subject, Elaine was just happy that Rai was feeling better. “Ugh..I feel sick from this stuff.” Rai complained as she shoved the bowl away. “Well, did you take your medicine?” Elaine asked, “Yes? Why wouldn’t I? I’m supposed to take them twice a day.” Rai was genuinely confused, she knew nausea was one of the side effects, but it seemed to happen every time. “That’s your problem. I would know, I used to be on it. It does something that makes you less hungry.” Elaine explained, Rai just groaend. “It’s stupid regardless. I am hungry, but now i feel sick.” Elaine shrugged and continued to eat, Rai had finished her tea and began to eat the ice. “I don’t know how you can do that, i’ve gto sensitive teeth.” Elaine stated, Rai just glared almost. “Uhm..it’s good? Plus it’s better than gaining unnecessary weight.” Elaine knew that wasn’t the reason, she remembered her talking about it. Back when she still lived with her father he wouln’t let her eat some nights. So she’d ask for a glass of water, luckily he was nice enough to give her ice. She had it as a meal for so many nights it was a shock she hadn’t died. Elaine had to sit for a minute after thinking about that. She didn’t want to think about it. Luckily Rai wasn’t thinking about it too much. The two continued to talk until the front door opened. “When did you get home?!” A familiar voice yelled, causing the two to look back at the door. Rai groaned in frustration.

Uhm I’ll send in the other one once you read this💪

•🍂(📚)

FINALLY READ IT HEHEHE

The cat is my favorite character now sorry. No way back /silly

I felt like I was interrupting smth by how descriptive it was KAJSKSJ/pos I almost asked for some food myself/j

[burnxngslash]

━━   ❝   𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞.   ❞  Famous last words spoken to her with a grin on his face, encouraging the girl to just lay back into bed, the remote aimed at the television to turn it on so she could distract herself with a little animation as he hops in the kitchen to make her something. “Stay here and I’ll get you something from the kitchen.” Fluffing her pillow one last time before leaving the room to enter the kitchen.

“Okay….chicken soup, you can’t go wrong with chicken soup when it comes to recovering from a common cold.” Hmmm but 𝐇𝐎𝐖 is he going to go about this? OH DUH!!! “First we start with a pot and some chicken.” A pot was grabbed and filled with water, next he pulled one of the whole legs out of the fridge and drops it into the water. “Got the chicken..that can’t be all there is to it.” The teen said as he began looking around the cupboards, he found salt for taste and of course chicken seasoning. Both were sprinkled into the water that now slowly began to show signs of boiling.

“Okay..what else is good for the cold..OH yeah vitamin C.” Said Adrien looking into the fridge, there were two oranges left and a few lemons. He grabs one of each and cuts them in half before squeezing the juices into the pot.

“Ooooh what do we have hear? Awww making soup for you sick widdle girlfwiend?” Said Plagg as he exits the cupboard.

The accusation made him blush before he shook his head. “Not my girlfriend and she’s sick so i’m making her some soup. I’ve got the chicken..the oranges and lemon for Vitamin C but I’m stuck now..” Said Adrien.

“I know exactly what you need.” Said Plagg.

“I’m not adding cheese.” Said Adrien.

“Fine, what about vegetables to make her stronger? You humans love advertising your veggies..bleh.” Said Plagg.

“Good idea..” Checking the fridge once more to see what they’ve got: Onions, some celery and one carrot. “Good enough, he grabs the vegetables and began to cutting, he remembered them being chopped into fine pieces whenever he was served veggies in a sauce or whatever. Then finally the pieces were added and the mixture began boiling.. “OH NO, the Noodles..” That was ONE ingredient he couldn’t believe he had forgotten but luckily enough he grabbed a hand full of spaghetti and placed them into the pot until they eventually softened up due to the boiling water and now he began to stir his concoction…Adrien wore a smile but anyone would probably be crying at the sight of this ‘mess’.

Due to the seasoning, the water turned into a light shade of brown and thicken with the chicken broth mixed in. Everything was then placed into a bowl, with one whole leg sticking out from the bowl. Did it look like ANYTHING he’d ever eaten before? Nope. But he figured it was because they were chef and this was his FIRST time ever cooking with no adult supervision. Was it delicious?? Probably not (it isn’t) but he figured everything worked well in tandem when it came to flavor. It had been maybe over an hour until he returned to Marinette’s room, Plagg had already flown into Adrien’s room to chow down on pieces of cheese. “I’m baaack.” Adrien’s voice soft yet happy as he stepped into her room holding the tray that kept her bowl. “Got you some chicken soup, should make you feel better REALLY soon.” The tray was placed in front of her.

continue from here / @belovedblossoms

[blackberrysummerblog]

15 Questions

Thanks so much for the tags, @thewholelemon and @alleycat0306! And I’m sorry it took me an age to get around to replying, I’ve been meaning to I swear!

1. Are you named after anyone? I’m named after the title character in a historical romance novel, of all things 😜 I got chicken pox when I was 13 or so and my mom finally let me read it; the character has a very eventful life without ever getting the one thing she really wants, so…thanks Mom lol

2. When was the last time you cried? Ugh, I cry all the time. Happy, sad, angry…it all gets me going. The last time was probably a day ago after an extremely dumb argument with my husband and it was over 3 minutes later

3. Do you have kids? Two almost-adults! Yikes

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? I don’t think so? I tend to be pretty earnest I guess. I don’t dislike it, though

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? I spent way too much time thinking about this, mainly because I’m going to *first* notice whatever stands out. If you have spaghetti sauce all over the front of your shirt I’m going to notice that before nice hair or eyes, right? I think beyond that, physically, I’d take note of a contagious smile, and on a personality level I’d notice if someone were particularly sunshiney or grumpy. I have a weird and desperate love for both, in real life as well as fiction

6. What’s your eye color? Gray, though the kind that often gets called blue. It’s not a very exciting color

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings every time. I can appreciate an open or tragic ending for its realism and/or artistic message, but it’s kind of the same as seeing a deeply ugly or tragic piece of visual art that you can appreciate the skill, vision, and message of in a museum, but do you want it on the wall of your home to look at all the time?…I mean, some people definitely would, but it’s not me. I like an ending that makes me feel happy or at least hopeful (I’m capable of and have written endings that aren’t, but these days I’m not very likely to, at least in fanfic). As for scary movies, I like the idea of them but seldom get on with them. I don’t like gore full stop, and while I do enjoy tension and jump scares, it can get overwhelming. I’m very much the person who will sit there burying their face and/or literally jumping in the air when I’m startled

8. Any special talents? I like to think I’m a decent writer, and I used to be a pretty good artist, but I’ve let it go a long time and these days when I sketch something I’m kind of appalled at how the skill atrophied. I’m sure it would improve again if I worked on it—I’m good at really visualizing something in my mind, which I think is the most important thing about being able to create any kind of art. On a more quotidian note, I’m really good at research and I’m a fairly good cook. I love love love to eat, so that helps motivate me in the kitchen lol

9. Where were you born? Arkansas

10. What are your hobbies? Reading, writing, walking, cooking, looking at art, trying new food. Classic introvert

11. Do you have any pets? Five dogs and two cats, it’s a proper zoo up in here

12. What sports do you play/did you used to play? *tries not to laugh*

13. How tall are you? Just barely over 5 feet

14. Favorite subject at school? I started listing my faves and it turns out it was pretty much everything but math, which I feel like I’m bad at but my test scores always indicated I was slightly above the average, so I suppose I must be ok at it. I like learning and enjoyed most of my liberal arts and science courses, but I’m going to narrow it down and say literature

15. Dream job? Writer! (I would very much not be good at this because left to my own devices I procrastinate like hell) I’ve had a lot of jobs over the years that I found interesting though, and I like doing work that I find meaningful. My current job lets me feel like I’m doing good in my community and the world, and most of the time it’s an extremely full work day, which is honestly better than having too much time on my hands.

Gah, I’ve really not been on tumblr much in the past week or so, so probably every single person I’ll tag has already done this. Please don’t think too badly of me (and if you haven’t done it and don’t have the energy, no big deal. Take care of yourselves!) @papierhakuphoto @shutup-andletme_go @captain-arealias @onepintobean @j-nipper-95 @rwithoutaspoon @martsonmars @cutestkilla @maedhrosrussandol

[pascalepalaces]

"Baby Fever" in The Writing Disorder, Summer 2018:

“We need an ambulance! My friend’s been stabbed and she’s pregnant! Uh … uh … four months!” someone’s cry pierced through my dizzy fog. That’s when I noticed everyone in the kitchen and that they were staring at me. Overwhelmed, I looked down, still clutching my burning belly. My hands were red. Oh.

#

TWO MONTHS EARLIER

“How far along are you?” asked Trish, looking up again from across the table. Her gaze pushed into me like a bulldozer. I leaned back into my chair, insecure about my answer.

“Eight weeks,” I said.

The three women attacked their notepads with their pencils.

Their names were Olive, and Kate (I think), and, in the middle, leading the interview, sat Trish Barton. That woman was all I’d heard her to be. She was blonde, with great skin, and so petite; you could have never guessed that she’d had two children. Nor that they’d been home births. Her kids (a boy and a girl) would probably grow up to be as small as her, too, since she was raising them vegetarian. Basically, she was everything that every Elk Creek mother wanted to be. Already she intimidated me, and she was five years my junior.

“And you’re married?” she asked, with a smile as perfectly tight as the rest of her face. I’d been expecting to be asked a lot about my living situation.

“Yes,” I answered. “As of recently, uh, his name is James.”

“Oh, congrats. How did you meet?”

“Four years ago,” I said. “He… was at a bar where we were having a company party. I didn’t- uh, I don’t usually go out, and he could tell. He stole me away”. I thought of it, of that image of James in his striped button-up. He’d pulled his sleeves up as he’d approached me, as if telling me he was determined to seduce me–though he’d probably just wanted to show off his arms. I still couldn’t believe I’d fallen for that overgrown frat boy. I chuckled to myself, thinking about it. When I looked back at Trish, though, her face hadn’t moved.

“What do you do?” she asked.

“Uh, I was an accountant for a car company,” I said. “I’m looking for a replacement.”

“And your husband?”

“Yes. He got a job at a hospital in the city, um-”

“Oh. Nice.”

“He’s a doctor.”

Her mouth opened the tiniest bit before she went back to her notepad. I tried to peek.

“And where are you living now?” she smiled up at me.

“It’s a house on Collingwood Street,” I said.

“Oh, so you’re the new owner,” Her high-pitched voice flapped its wings excitedly. Her face had opened up now. A little weird. “Well, lovely, lovely. Will you have transportation?”

“Yes, we have a car.”

“Okay. And how are you liking Elk Creek?”

“We love it,” I said. “We wanted to go somewhere family-oriented. And this was worth leaving, like, everything behind in Michigan.”

“So you understand the purpose of Elk Creek Mothers’ Association?”

I nodded. “Keep the community safe and organize events for moms and kids,” I said.

“And what will you contribute, if you’re chosen?”

I paused, massaging my hands together. Secretly, I hated questions like this; the job hunt was going to be a pain.

“Well, I love children more than-” I started. I was about to say anyone, then I realized that that might not be the best idea, considering who was interviewing me, “-anything. More than anything, I’ve always known I’ve wanted to be a mom, and…” I realized that I probably shouldn’t focus on myself, but on the benefits for the kids.

Trish and her vice-presidents wrote as I spoke. I couldn’t, despite trying, read their notes or their faces.

I told James all about it over dinner. We sat across the width of the dining room table, as the other way might have required us to cup our mouths and yell. I didn’t know why he’d gotten us such a big table, but I supposed that the room allowed for it.

“I’m not gonna get it,” I said, twirling my spaghetti on my fork, then sticking a load into my mouth.

“Of course you are,” he said. “It’s a volunteer position.” He stabbed into a meatball.

“One that everyone wants,” I mumbled, covering my chewing with my hand. “Why do you think I had to do an interview?”

“Is it really this elite thing?” he asked, chuckling and looking up at me. James had blue/green eyes; their color shifted like the tides. In this light, now, they looked a pale, consuming green. He was still so handsome to me with his short, curly brown hair; his thick eyelashes; the quirky asymmetrical-ness of his rectangle face. “But it’s called Ec-ma. Ec-ma,” he continued. “They couldn’t have a prettier name? Makes me think of eczema.”

I laughed until my phone started vibrating on the kitchen counter. I jumped upward, gulped down my noodles and jogged to it.

“Pregnant,” James reminded me.

I ignored him. “Hello?” I answered, in a semi-strangled voice.

“Hi. Lillian? This is Trish, from ECMA,” she said. “I’m calling to offer you membership to our group.”

“No way! Oh, my gosh. Thank you so much!” I exclaimed, looking back at James. He did a double thumbs-up.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Do you accept?”

“Yes, for sure.”

“Great. Are you available this Thursday at 7:30 PM for our monthly public safety meeting?”

James would be back from work by then. I’d have the car in time.

“Yes, that’s fine,” I told her.

“It’s at the police station. Do you know where that is?”

“Yes,” I lied. I’d figure it out.

“Perfect. See you then,” she said. “Bring a notebook.” And she hung up.

“Told you you’d get it,” James said as I put the phone down. “They loved you.”

I strode back toward him, grinning.

“I admit, I got you something to celebrate,” he said, opening the glass door to the liquor cabinet. I squinted at him as he took out a bottle. “Non-alcoholic cider.” He pointed at the label.

I came closer and kissed him. He kissed me back, grabbing at my arm. He tasted like tomato sauce, and his stubble scratched at my face, but the moment was still nice.

We each had a glass and then we had sex.

When I got up the next morning for the bathroom, I found some blood in my underwear, which James had said was normal for pregnant women after sex. I filled the sink to soak them and then also drew myself a bath. I was nervous for my meeting that evening and I wanted to relax (also, the big tub, with jets, was one of my favourite features of the new house). I sat for a while in the hot, bubbling water and thought of baby name ideas. I’d been thinking of suggesting Madeline if it was a girl, which I was sort of hoping would be the case. Madeline sounded like a girl who’d laugh fervently, who’d love hugs and who would have her father’s eyes.

The meeting went fine, though I was exhausted by the time it ended. I wasn’t surprised; wanting to impress the group was probably piling onto my recent moving stress and crushing me. I went to bed before James that night, but still woke up late the next morning. When I went to the bathroom, I found more blood. Bleeding was normal at this stage, I assured myself. So was the pain in my abdomen. It had happened before.

Unfortunately, both symptoms continued sporadically for the next week, and pretty much non-stop the week after that. The exhaustion was the same.

“Would you be able to get me an ultrasound? For, like, as soon as possible?” I called James on his break the day I decided this was a problem. We hadn’t yet managed to procure a new family doctor, so he would have to play that role for now. I was grateful to have him.

“Of course. How you feeling today?” he asked. I could hear him close a door.

“The same,” I said. I hadn’t left the bed. “I officially think I’m gonna miscarry.” I was going to cry. Neither of us had yet said that word.

“Please don’t worry yet,” he told me in his most caressing voice. “It’s probably stress.”

“It hasn’t been that bad,” I argued, turning onto my side and sliding further under the covers.

“Yeah, but this started as soon as you joined the group,” he said. “That can’t be a coincidence. And…”

“…Yes?”

“I don’t know. Something about that group just kinda weirds me out,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… come on. Everyone here just worships those women. Plus, they’re making you do their bidding, for free, just for the honour of it?” I tried to intervene, but he continued, “You sure you haven’t accidentally joined some sort of cult?”

“In small-town Wisconsin?” I scoffed. Fuck, it hurt to do that. I rolled onto my back, holding myself. “Everything’s normal. Come on. It’s for the community.”

“The way you describe them, they just sound creepy. Are they not?”

“It’s not that bad,” I repeated.

“Really? You sure you’re not hurting and bleeding ‘cause they turned our baby into a demon baby or something? Rosemary’s Babied you up-”

“Stop,” I held back my laugher by the belly. Laughing wasn’t a good idea, either.

“Okay, but admit it. You’re taken by the elitism,” he said, his voice now dipping a little, like a frown. “And that’s what’s weird to me, ‘cause you’ve never seemed to care about that kind of thing.”

“I’m just trying to make new friends here, James. Mom friends. I’m bored and I’m lonely.”

“I get it. But you can do that without this Trish woman, can’t you? How old is she, again?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Right,” he said. I realized that she was a full decade under him.

“I guess I want my kid to have a good social standing,” I finally admitted. “You know I was bullied.”

James took in a harsh breath. “I understand,” he said. “And I think that’s great that you’re trying to give that to our children, but I think maybe you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. On top of looking for a job-”

My insides fell. “Are you asking me to quit the group?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said, quickly. “Actually… eh, I was wondering…”

They hit the ground. “If I shouldn’t get a job?”

“You’ll be on mat leave soon enough, anyway,” he finally said. “And you know I can support us both.”

I didn’t answer. I only swivelled my jaw.

“Then, maybe later, we can reconsider if you wanna work or not,” he said. “I don’t know. Think about it?”

“Fine,” I said. “But, please, get me that ultrasound.”

James was able to schedule me one for five days later–a Saturday. Unfortunately, I felt exponentially worse by the day. By Friday morning, it was like I had a hole tearing through me. The demon baby theory didn’t seem so implausible anymore.

I wept on the bed, leaving phone messages for James. I took my usual (maximum) dose of Tylenol, and then upped it a bit, but still, not much changed. When I finally struggled my way out of bed, I noticed that I’d left a bloodstain. I went to the bathroom and took off my clothes. I felt so weak and vulnerable, even nauseous, so it took a while. I ripped the pad off of my underwear–which, along with my pajama pants, had been stained, nonetheless–and threw it out. At least none of the blood seemed clotted.

I managed to make myself a hot bath, with jets. Once I got in, it helped the pain, a bit, but it worsened the nausea and the exhaustion. When I got out and checked my phone, it was still only nine o’clock. I had no idea if James would get my messages before his break.

I went back to the bed, in my bathrobe, to sit and try to think of what to do. If we’d been back home, I would have called a cab to the hospital, but there were none in this puny town. I could call an ambulance, as it’d come faster than a cab would from the city, but that seemed excessive. I would just have to make it a few hours. There was no way I was contacting ECMA, either; they couldn’t know that this was happening. I had just been accepted. I’d already forced a smile and gone to the last two meetings.

I changed into new underwear with a new pad, and new pajamas, then lay back down. Just a few hours.

It was easier thought than done, though. I held myself on the bed and cried for about thirty minutes until I gave in and lugged myself to the dining room.

“Forgive me,” I rasped, pulling out a bottle of scotch and a glass from the liquor cabinet. But she was probably already dead. I poured myself a glass then the contents down my throat. The burning it caused distracted from the burning in my abdomen. I poured another.

I was disoriented when I heard James yell, “What the fuck is this?!”

I lugged my head up from my arms, wiping my mouth. I looked at my hand. My saliva was brown. I looked to my right. James was standing next to me. I was still sitting at the dining table. I’d fallen asleep. I’d never fallen asleep at a table like this.

“Is this why this is happening? Is this what you’ve been doing during the day?!” he continued. I looked up at him. He was sneering, his eyes burning hell into me. I’d thought that I’d already seen him at his angriest, but apparently I hadn’t even seen him close. “What kind of mother are you?!”

“No,” I groaned. “Have… you found me like this before?”

“Well, I don’t know,” he said, leaning down further into me. “You’ve been really emotional-”

“Because I’m in fucking pain and I’m fucking losing my baby,” I said. I strained myself up straighter, but my head was spinning. “I need the hospital.”

He stared into me for a few seconds. His eyes had gone paler, colder. “No,” he said.

My heart jump-started. “What the f-” I tried.

“You’re not going anywhere. They can’t see you like this. Even if you’re not a drunk, they’ll think you are.”

“It’s… not… optional.”

“Sure it is,” he said. “Didn’t you want a home birth so bad? Like what’s-her-face? Have a home miscarriage.”

Then, he passed me for the kitchen. I put my head back on the table and cried again.

The pain woke me up before James the next morning. I heaved myself over to the bathroom–a ritual now–and the usual blood was there. I started to undress when I was taken by nausea.

I sensed James walk in behind me puking.

“Hungover?” he snarked.

“Please,” I whimpered.

I got changed, and he drove me, in silence, to the hospital. It was in the car seat that I started to really feel the bleeding. Feel it get thicker.

After the painfully long drive, I was given away to a Dr. Schuster, a middle-aged black woman with black ponytailed braids. She helped me put on a hospital gown, and she set me down on the plastic bed. I was shivering. I covered my eyes as she checked me. I felt her clean me. It was cold. But there was no colder feeling than the one in my belly–and, though I knew that it was just fear, it also felt an awful lot like a dead baby.

“I’m so sorry. You did have a miscarriage,” she said, standing over me, dropping each word down gentler than the last.

But it doesn’t matter how gently you drop a child’s corpse onto her mother’s face.

She might as well have dropped a boulder on me, I thought. And, in that moment, I wondered what my daughter looked like. She’d probably resembled red, thick lava when she’d been ejected from the center of my core–but now I was a volcano with no purpose left, and now both of us were cold.

“I’m gonna give you an ultrasound to make sure there are no further complications and that you’re safe,” Dr. Schuster said, and I grimaced. I was grateful, at least, to have her instead of James.

“It still hurts,” I grumbled, lips dry.

She had me open the front of my gown. She put the ultrasound gel on my belly then felt across it with the stick.

“Is it all out?” I muttered.

“Actually…” she said, her voice shaking now, “I’m going to have to put you into surgery.”

“Why?” I rasped, sitting up quickly and wincing.

“You’ve had an ectopic pregnancy.”

I hadn’t heard of that before, which wasn’t a good sign.

“Your egg failed to travel through your fallopian tube,” she explained. “Your foetus has been growing in there, and now it’s burst it. You’re bleeding internally and… your other tube might have been damaged, too. I’m going to have to go in to try to save it.”

Everything, then, felt like it was spinning and shifting. Probably because everything was. I erupted, again, this time with tears.

When I woke up in a hospital bed, I tried to shoot up straight. My abdomen cried out in pain, and so did I. I remembered that I’d had surgery. A nurse called for Dr. Schuster, who entered shortly after.

“Can I have kids?” I mumbled.

“I’m so sorry, Lillian,” she said, her face struggling to stay adrift. “It’s not likely you’ll be able to conceive. Your tube was badly ruptured, and your other one was…”

I tuned her out, then. I retreated all the way under the covers and closed my eyes.

When I was more awake, she gave me and James the instructions for my care.

“No working for eight weeks,” she said. “And absolutely no sex.” Her expression had finally given up and died now. So had mine. It had gone down with my baby.

My baby had died and taken the rest of my insides with her.

James took my hand in his. It was stiff. I looked up at him. He was pale and frozen over. Definitely also dead.

“Again, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dr. Schuster said to us. “Take your time to grieve, but remember that-”

“Thank you,” James snapped, which made me cringe a little.

And the drive home felt like the one there.

“I called Trish,” he said, breaking the silence, keeping his eyes on the dark road ahead. “Begged her to keep you in the group.”

“Of course she’s not gonna keep me in the group,” I grimaced, picking at a cuticle. “It’s a mothers’ association, and I’m no longer a mother.”

“Well, she said they’d discuss it.”

“I could have done it myself,” I argued, pausing to clamp my teeth together. “It could’ve waited.”

“I thought you might be embarrassed.”

Something about that rubbed me the wrong way. It even struck me.

“Why would I be embarrassed?” I asked, then, in a weakened voice. “…Because it’s my fault?”

He didn’t answer.

“For drinking?” I pushed. “Or for putting too much stress on myself? Daring to look for a job?”

James let out a dense exhale. “I didn’t say that, Lil,” he muttered.

It wasn’t a denial that he believed it, though.

“I can’t believe you think that.” My voice was shaking. “You did this to me, not me.”

At that, he pulled the car over and turned to look into my eyes. But he kept his grip on the wheel. “Excuse me?” he growled.

“You’re a doctor. You know what an ectopic pregnancy is, James. You know it was failed from the beginning. When your sperm entered me and ripped me up slowly from the inside.”

I watched the anger bubble up inside him, then. “You don’t mean that,” it finally escaped as a chuckle. “You still have those hormones going.”

“Hormones?! I just lost my purpose in life.”

“So did I!”

“But you’re not the one who had to just go through that,” I screamed, the hairs on my arms rising with my voice. “Have some humanity! I just want my husband to comfort me right now, not fucking attack me!”

But all he did was turn back toward the wheel. He stared again at the black nothingness ahead, and it reflected in his eyes. We sat there, listening to our own hard breaths, until he finally spoke again.

“Humanity is defined by the ability to reproduce, isn’t it?” he said, and he turned the car back into the road.

I was too stunned to even respond. Had he just implied what I thought? Had my husband just diagnosed me with not being human anymore?

I was taken by rage. He had done this to me.

The continuing, torturous silence was shaken, thankfully, when my phone vibrated at my feet. I struggled, aching in every sense of the word, to pick up my purse and retrieve it.

“Hello?” I groaned.

“Lillian? This is Trish,” came Trish’s glossy voice from the other side. But she also sounded a bit more genuine, more normal now. “I wanted to say that I’m so, so sorry to hear about what happened. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

I know you can’t, I thought.

“Thank you, Trish,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“Do you need some time to yourself or do you have it in you-”

“Just lay it on me.”

“Okay. Well… we talked about it for a long time. It was difficult. Because we could really feel how passionate you are about the association, and we’ve appreciated having you so far. So… we actually came up with a possible compromise, if you’ll accept it.”

I felt the littlest fragment of life return to me.

“What kind?” I asked, leaning against the window.

“So, we have an official Facebook page, you might know. I like to keep it active, to attract attention. Like, post some content a couple times a day. But I wouldn’t mind that job being taken off me, if you want it,” she said. “It seems perfect for your… situation. You’re homebound, correct?”

“Right.”

“Well, since it’s online,” she said, “You won’t have to leave home to do it. And… since you’ll be behind a computer, and no one can tell who’s posting, anyway, no one will tell that you’re…”

“Not pregnant,” I said. It was such a pity offer, but I still appreciated it. I couldn’t believe that Head Mom Trish Barton was being more forgiving than my husband. “So… I just have to post as if I were pregnant? Or a mom?”

“Uh, exactly.”

“Well, okay,” I said, and then took in a cold breath. “Thank you… so much.”

“No problem. I’ll e-mail you more details in the morning, and you can let me know when you’re ready to start. For now, get some rest and feel better.”

“Thanks.”

The next morning, I went to the office computer and indeed found an email from her.

Hi Lillian, it said,

If you go to Facebook you’ll see I made you an admin for our page. That means you’ll be able to post to it under our name. Take a look at the past content, if you haven’t already, to get an idea of what kind of stuff is good. Articles about parenting are great, as long as it’s not ‘disciplining’ tips or anything too aggressive like that. Also please look for funny ‘memes’ about motherhood. Basically just fun, light-hearted stuff. Oh, and add appropriate captions, please.

Posts should go up once every morning and once every afternoon. You can start whenever you feel ready. Just let me know when that is and I’ll leave it to you 🙂

Take care,

TB

I can start today, I wrote her, or I may die of boredom.

I went on Google and looked up ‘parenting article’. I clicked on a page titled What to Expect When Your Child Starts Kindergarten.

It opened with an image of a mother and daughter smiling together.

Oh … god.

You’ll want to keep track of all of the school activities and meetings and help out when you can, it said.

Making friends with other parents will be a huge stress-saver.

Your child may cry because they’re scared or because they miss you, but that doesn’t always mean that they don’t want to be at school.

Your child will be a lot more tired than before. They may start to fall asleep in weird places. It will be cute.

As I read, the pain where my baby used to be flared up like a phantom limb. I couldn’t do this. I hadn’t realized how difficult this would be.

ECMA definitely didn’t realize it, either, though. They had been so kind to find this job for me. If I didn’t do it, I had nothing left.

I decided to just try a different route. I exited the article and Googled, ‘Mom memes’.

The first image was a simple illustration of a woman, accompanied by the text, That moment when you’re checking on your sleeping baby and their eyes open so you run before you make direct eye contact.

My eyes swelled and my hands contorted. Just hurry up and post it, I told myself, then you can go wallow under your covers again. I saved the image and put it up on the Facebook with the caption, Haha, I hate when this happens!

Pressing every key was like stabbing myself over and over.

I was still under the covers that afternoon when I heard James unlock the door. Thankfully, he fussed around cooking in the kitchen for a while before approaching the room.

“Lil?” he mumbled. “I made dinner.”

My brain foggy, I forced myself to get up and follow him to the dining room. He helped me sit down at the table. He’d set out steak and potatoes for us. Plus, a bottle of wine, with wine glasses. He offered me one.

“Thank you, the food looks amazing,” I said, “But not right now.”

“Why not?” he asked, uncorking the bottle. “You can drink it now.”

I stared into my lap and ran my tongue between my teeth. “What is this?” I finally asked, my voice sharp.

He sighed. “I wanted to make it up to you, after last night,” he admitted. “You were right. I shouldn’t have been fighting with you.”

I sighed, too, nodding. I was still hurt by what he’d said, but I didn’t want to bring it up. Clearly, he didn’t either. So we made dull conversation about his day as we ate. I avoided talking about mine.

When we finished, he took away the dishes and I went to the living room couch.

“What are you up to tonight?” he asked, entering from the kitchen behind me. “Want to see what’s on TV?”

“Could you get me my book?” I countered. “In the bedroom?”

“Sure,” he said. Then, “Why don’t you read in there? You’ll be warmer.”

“I guess, but I’ve been lying there all day.”

“I could help entertain you,” he said. He came up behind me and rubbed my shoulder.

I turned, looking up at him with a grimace. “You know I can’t have sex, James.”

He chuckled. “I mean, it’s actually not that big of a deal-”

“Except I’m really not up for it. In any capacity.”

He paused. “Okay, okay, just trying to be close with you,” he grumbled, before walking away.

Of course, I was going by what Dr. Schuster had told me–and James, as her peer, should have known better–but, in truth, I was most resistant for my own reasons. I just could not get that image of James’s invasive, destructive sperm out of my mind. I did not want his semen anywhere near me anymore, after what it had done to me. I was disgusted by it, by the very idea of sex with him.

Unfortunately, throughout the next few weeks, James continued to try to initiate it with me. And, as I continued to say no, he continued to get grumpier. Funnily enough, I couldn’t remember him ever being this horny before. It was interesting that he wanted to fuck me the most now that he didn’t consider me human.

Eventually, he got the message and he stopped pushing. In one sense of the word, that is. Instead, he began to push himself, sometimes, onto my healing abdomen while we were cuddling… to even, some nights, knee it in his sleep. But I suspected that he wasn’t asleep.

When I would go to the computer to post for ECMA, in the morning, I also started to find paused porn videos left open on the computer. I understood that James needed to get his urges out, somehow, but, like the kneeing, it happened just a little too often to seem truly accidental. This was another expression of frustration at me, then. James was rubbing in my face that I wasn’t satisfying him. He was showing me exactly who all of the younger, hotter women were that were getting him off.

I only really started to become afraid when the porn started to get violent. I would go to the computer to find images of women–though that wasn’t what they were being called, in these video titles–being stepped on, hit with things, choked. Their faces always showed distress or discomfort, and when they didn’t, it was because they were being shoved into a bag, trashcan, or toilet. At that point, I shouldn’t have been surprised that this was the kind of thing that James was into. But I felt that this porn might have become more than just a taunting… had it also become a threat?

I cried a lot during those weeks. Fearing for myself, what he might do to me in my sleep, I locked myself in the bathroom at night and slept in the tub. Weirdly, he never challenged me for it. He acted like everything was normal. He’d ask me how I was feeling. I would tell him everything was great, and he’d smile.

When I went in for my first check-up with Dr. Schuster (Aileen, she said to call her), she told me that I was behind in my healing. It was most definitely the kneeing, I knew. But I realized what I had to say.

“We had sex,” I told her. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. I felt a heavy shame for disappointing her, even though it had been a lie.

“I understand you want to try again,” she said, sitting down at her chair across from me. “It’s common for couples in this situation to have trouble dealing with it, at first.”

I wrung my fingers.

“I hope this isn’t intrusive for me to say, but… your husband has seemed depressed lately,” she continued, her wide face dipping a little. “He’d mentioned how many kids you two wanted… so I wanted to ask you how you’re doing, mentally.”

I looked back into her eyes. James and I had never actually talked numbers. Both of us adored kids, of course, but it had made sense to me to just take it one at a time.

I almost said nothing. “How many kids did we want?” I decided to ask. It came out grumbly.

“Pardon me?” asked Aileen.

“How many did he say we wanted?”

“Well… he’d said at least eight.”

I felt so heavily confused and disturbed, in that moment, like I could fall over–like she’d reached out and slapped me. Eight kids? Eight? Where the heck had he gotten that idea? My personal limit would probably have been half that number; why did he go around saying something so outrageous, when we’d never even discussed it?

I had an itch of a thought, and so when I got home, I did my own personal Googling. One of the results included a page in a women’s health blog, What is Reproductive Coercion?. I dismissed it at first, but the title kept chipping at me until I went back and clicked on it.

Have you ever heard of men obsessed with getting and keeping their partners pregnant?, the author wrote. Chances are that you haven’t. However, new studies have found that this form of domestic abuse is almost as common as are bruises and broken bones. Whether subtle or forceful, it is just another form of power and control that a man can exert over a woman’s body and life. He may be performing reproductive coercion if he:

Sabotages your birth control. Maybe he’s lied about having had a vasectomy, or he ‘accidentally’ keeps ripping the condom, or he tells you that your birth control is making you fat. He might even escalate to doing something like rip out your contraceptive ring.

Isolates you–limits your access to money and transportation. It may also be a strategy to prevent you from acquiring birth control. Or maybe he wants you to quit your job so that you can focus on being a mother (and be totally dependant on him). Isolating you can also prevent you from getting refuge from your family or friends.

Verbally, psychologically and/or emotionally pressures you into having sex and/or getting pregnant.

Uses violence or threats of violence to pressure into having sex and/or getting pregnant.

Wants you continuously pregnant. He may attempt to make another baby either directly after you give birth (or miscarry), or as soon as your previous child begins kindergarten (and your schedule opens up).

A stinging, tingly feeling surfaced in my limbs as I read. It gradually got stronger, then moved to my core.

I sat, paralyzed, thinking back to the beginnings of my relationship with James. He’d been upfront about his traditional leanings, his need to get married and to have kids. I’d found it endearing, romantic—as I had his eventual suggestion that we run away together. Men with a passion for children are attractive to many women, including myself. And, because I’d shared his passion, I suppose that I had never had to face his wrath. Until now.

As Aileen had suggested, he was probably refusing to accept that I was now infertile. His obsession with sex was probably a desperate, delusional attempt to get me pregnant again. Either that, or he was panicking and trying to control me in other ways.

I almost scoffed at the predictability when I came to the computer, one morning, and found ‘pregnant woman porn’. Of course James had this fetish. And of course he was going to go down this road; this was the ultimate taunt, the ultimate display of what I could never be for him.

I should have grimaced and closed the tab as quickly as possible, of course. That was what I usually did. This time, though, something different happened. I stared at the image. Really stared at it.

The woman was leaning on all fours, her eyes jammed shut and her mouth agape, her inflated belly dangling pathetically. Her hair, a mess, fell partially in her face and was pulled partially back by the man fucking her from behind. I hit play on the video. The words suffer, you pregnant bitch clotted together in my mind.

When I finally did close the tab to get to my Facebook responsibilities, my bitterness lived on. It always did, when I did this work. This time, though, it was even more intense. It filled the room, now. Plus, now that it knew what revenge felt like, it wanted more of it.

I had a few notifications from comments on my latest pregnancy meme–one that had especially made me feel like killing myself. They were idiotic, tart messages like ‘sooo truuueee’ and laughing faces; god, I pitied these women’s children. Rage spiralled in my stomach, flashed underneath my skin as I stared down their profile photos in the same way I had the woman in the video. Their big bellies and smiling husbands made me wish upon them the same fate. I wanted, so horribly, for them to feel that humiliation for being pregnant. That trauma.

I realized that maybe I could get them close.

I logged out of Facebook and created a new account under the pseudonym Joe Coen. I then went back to the ECMA page and to the profiles of frequent commenters. I composed a message, which I sent to all of them:

Here’s where I’d like to see you soon 🙂

And I attached the porn link.

A few hours later, I received a call from Trish. When she said we needed to talk, my inner sanctum–the satisfaction I’d made for myself–imploded on itself. She knew that it had been me. Somehow. How? It made no sense how she would. Yes, I controlled the Facebook page, but it was also accessible to everyone. And the world was not short of misogynistic men who sent messages like that.

It was probably a coincidence, then. This was about something else. Still, the worry would keep me up all night if I didn’t talk to her today. I asked her to come over, preferably before my husband came home.

The low look on her face, when I opened the door, made my worry flare up worse. I invited her over to the kitchen. Her steps were careful. I was definitely in trouble. My mind ran in zig-zags, debating what to do.

I offered her a seat at the counter, and, when she denied a drink, sat across from her. I forced a smile. I decided that unless I was offered undeniable proof that she’d tracked me down, I would do just that–deny.

“So,” she said. She was still avoiding eye contact. She rested her French-tipped hand on the counter and cleared her throat. “I don’t know if you heard, but a lot of women from our Facebook received a really nasty message this morning.”

I widened my eyes and gasped. “Oh no,” I said. “Did you want me to do something?”

“That’s not why I came, no,” she said, and she finally looked back at me. “I’m here to ask you to tell me, completely honestly, if it was you.”

Her eyes pressed into me like a drill, making me shake.

“W-why would you think it was me?” I responded. Acting had never been a thing of mine.

“Because I had a miscarriage once,” she said.

My shock, then, was real.

“Surprise,” she chuckled, baring teeth. “Yes. I was pregnant once before Noah, and no one knows except my husband.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. I’m just trying to make a point,” she said, resting both arms on the counter now. She was shaking, too. “I had become such a mess, y’know. I hid it well, but I was super depressed for about six months, and… angry. Like, I hated pregnant women… moms in general. I had thoughts that… and, my therapist–yup, I have one of those, too–told me that that can happen when you miscarry.”

I swallowed, gripping my shirt.

“And so I can’t imagine how much worse it might be, for you, because…” she continued, pursing her lips and speeding up her blinking. “I thought about it today, and maybe having you do the Facebook may not have been the best idea. Right?”

I put my head down and nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “If it was too much-”

“Because… I need… “ I struggled, putting my face into my hands.

“Do you have a support system?” she asked, quieter now. “Your husb-”

“Is that a line from your therapist?” I retorted.

“Maybe,” she said. Do you want his number?”

I looked back up at her. Chuckled. “Maybe,” I said, crossing my arms. “Now that I’m out of the mommy group. Now that everyone’s gonna hate me.”

She shifted in her seat.

“How about this?” she said. “I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine.”

I found myself leaning back toward her. The heavy look in her blue eyes was filling me with some hope.

“And… I understand that you need friends right now. So, even though I’m gonna have to kick you out of the group…” she continued, “You can still come to our social events.”

“…Do I have to pretend to still be pregnant?”

She paused. “No,” she said. “That would be cruel. And… weird. And people would figure it out. Besides, they’ll understand. I’ll just warn them about your situation, if that’s okay, so that they don’t say anything… uncomfortable. But we’re capable of socializing with people other than mothers. We could even use it.”

I thought about it. “I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it, honestly,” I said.

“Well, you can leave if you really need to. But I really think that if you get to know them, you’ll hate them less.”

“Is that what worked for you?”

She nodded. “We’re having bake sale Sunday afternoon,” she said, then. “I could use some extra hands. Would you be able to help, or are you still out of commission?”

“I should be, but I really need to get out of the house.”

“Great.” She actually smiled. “Most of the women you sent those messages to will be there. I hope that you can make friends.”

That hot, sunny Sunday afternoon, I drove up to Trish’s place early. It was tall, multi-sectioned, with lots of big windows and a fancy BMW parked out front. As soon as I saw it, I sped up and drove down a couple of blocks to park. Then I remembered that I was also driving a BMW. I took several deep breaths.

Once parked (closer, now), I reached, with some pain, for the pan of date tarts in the passenger seat. I strained my way with it to her door. I had been expecting to see a table or two on her lawn for the bake sale, but there were already several rows of tables propped up, ready to be used. This might as well have been a baked goods convention.

The door was partially open, but I knocked anyway, and soon heard the approaching clacking of what sounded like wedges.

“Lillian! You came,” she exclaimed, with her IKEA-white smile. She was wearing a purply sundress and had done herself up all nicely. “You’re the first one here. Come in!”

I handed her the pan and she thanked me and led me to her kitchen. “I’m about to start putting things out,” she told me. I walked behind her through her large, wood-and-stone living room; her little boy and girl were playing quietly in front of the fireplace. Seeing them gave me a flash of cold.

The kitchen was more modest and cozy. The floor was yellow tile. To my left was a wooden table cluttered with baking supplies. Trish went around it to the counter against the wall. A multi-colored curtain hung on the window next to her.

“Oh, good, Rick put in the muffins,” she said, peering into the oven. My body tensed.

I got worse as more mothers arrived. Trish figured that I should be sitting down, because of my healing, so she set me up at one of the tables to sell things. That meant that I was approached by all of the moms wanting to offer something and those wanting to buy.

I tried to make conversation, and get to know them, like Trish had suggested–I really did. Unfortunately, my anger rattled so loud in my brain that I could barely hear anything that they said. When I tried to talk about myself, my jaw remained so tense that it barely even worked. It was pathetic, trying to speak. The woman across from me would always end up walking away in silence. That made me more irritated, though. Trish had told them what I was going through.

So, like the nauseating smell of the melting icing, every new addition to the party further constricted my throat. Every new belly, every new child on that lawn took more air out of me. The sights became too much. The conversations–about the school, about bedtime routines, breastfeeding–circled around me like hyenas. The laughter–fuck, especially when it came from a child–sounded like the ugliest cackling.

I found myself wishing agony on the pregnant women, especially. Stretch marks, saggy breasts, vaginal stretching–things that could lead their husbands to cheat on them. That cheating would mess up their children so bad that they’d become drug addicts and criminals. Yes. That would make me feel better.

The baby in my belly had, at this point, been officially replaced by a solid mass of pure fury. And, unlike my baby, this fury had a heartbeat, which I felt pulsing hard through my body. Unlike my baby, it was twisting, crying, and kicking.

“Are you doing okay?” Trish’s voice came floating above me. Suddenly I was back in the world. Self-conscious again.

“Yeah,” I managed, looking up at her.

“You don’t look it. No offense.”

That’s when I realized how sweaty I was. And also that I was shivering. Like a sick woman.

“This may have been too much too fast. I’m sorry,” she said. She waved me up and then led me back into the house. “Eliza, can you take over for Lillian?” she yelled. Once we were out of the sunlight, and away from all of the bodies and voices, I found myself gasping for breath.

“Do you need to lie down?” she asked me.

“No. Let me do something else,” I pleaded, heaving. I was still holding onto a stupid slice of hope that I could make it back into the group, one day. I needed to prove that I was still mother material–not just another child to be taken care of.

“Okay… well. I just made another cake. Maybe you can help me decorate it.”

I nodded, but cringed a little when we found Kate in the kitchen. I knew her from the group and from Facebook. She was young, Italian looking. Thick eyebrows, small belly.

“Hey! Glad you could make it,” Trish said to her.

Kate nodded. “I was just looking for you,” she said. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Right. How dare you have an ultrasound?” Trish giggled. Her smile then left and she got quiet.

Keep cool, Lillian, I thought. Please.

Kate looked at me. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “You two kinda rushed in here.”

“Uh-huh,” said Trish. “Lillian was just overheating.” In a sense, not a lie.

Kate and I smiled at one another, but as her eyes dug into me, my embarrassment deepened. She was definitely wondering if this had something to do with my miscarriage. There was nothing I could do to stop her from wondering it. I looked away and focused hard on the wall above the stove.

Trish walked to the oven, then, to take out the cake. She moved it from its pan onto an embroidered plate and then placed it on the table.

“It’s strawberry shortcake,” she said. “Just needs some whipped cream and strawberries.”

“Do you need any more help with anything?” asked Kate.

“Don’t worry,” said Trish. “Unless you want to help me clean up.”

Kate did. The women cleaned, chatting, as I sat silently decorating and trying to recover. Now that I felt like I had some breath back in me, my inner fire had, thankfully, blown out. The foundation to it was still there–a gaslight that could easily ignite another flame–but, for now, I was sane enough to question all of those horrible thoughts I’d been having. I held back tears.

“Lillian?” Trish ended up saying. Fuck, she’d noticed. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I tried to say.

“Do you want to call your husband?”

“No,” I demanded. Too quickly. A tear finally escaped. Child. I was a child. “He’s busy,” I said, in a diluted voice.

“Is that why you didn’t invite him today?” she asked, taking the seat next to me.

“Yes,” I managed, standing up. The cake looked good enough now, but I needed something else to give me an excuse not to look her in the face. I grabbed a knife from the other side of the table and started to cut it up.

“Lillian,” Trish protested, placing a hand on my arm. “If something was going on at home, you could tell me. That’s something we do for women here. We help. You know that.”

I stopped moving but the knife shook hard in my hand. Hers felt like soft tissue. I found myself turning towards her.

“Is it okay if Kate stays?” she asked me, slowly.

I nodded, swallowing some tears and snot. I had to accept it. I was still that sad little girl who just needed some friends.

Kate approached me with softened eyes.

“Sit back down, love,” she told me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Tell us what’s wrong.”

I nodded again. Sniffing, shaking, I started to sit, and I reached to put down the knife.

“Have a piece of cake,” Trish told me.

“Yeah!” said Kate. “Or- I brought madeleines.”

[tawdrytalk]

Watch a Man’s Life Fall Apart

The anxiety is going to kill me. I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of the abyss.

My legs are literally shaking right now; I was sitting in a car wash stall over on Folsom-Auburn Road near the clinic when the whole car started shaking. I didn’t think too much for the first second or two, and it seemed to return to normal. I shut the engine off while the wash robot did its thing.

Tried to turn the engine back on when the dryer started, but it stalled out every time I put it into drive. Tried backing out of the stall, but that didn’t work, neither. So I pushed the car backward out of the stall, then it gained momentum as the slope was slightly downhill and it got away from me and the open door hit the brick column that holds the payment kiosk there at the entrance to the car wash. The door made this sickening crunch, and the window came out of its frame on the inside of the door, and it is sitting at a skewed angle in the door.

I was able to push the car forward uphill enough to dislodge the door, and set the parking brake. Sat in the driver’s seat and tried to close the door; it is not level, but it did close and latch, although the door open warning light is lit. The window sits at a forty-five degree angle in the window opening. I tried to start the car a few times and it finally started and idled normally.

Nervously, I put the car into drive and with trepidation took my foot off the brake and gave it a little gas; it moved, Flying Spaghetti Monster be praised! The engine seemed touched by its noodley appendage.

Where to go, though? The clinic parking lot is just narrow enough to make being towed away by AAA nigh impossible. So I daringly, possibly foolishly decided to drive over to get some food, so I’m currently sitting in the McDonald’s at East Bidwell and Riley. I figure that as long as I need to be somewhere to potentially wait for a tow, I may as well sit in air conditioned comfort and sip a diet Dr. Pepper and contemplate next steps.

If the car is truly dead, this will be my ruination; because I’ve been temporarily been ousted from my apartment, I’m living over on Northgate Blvd, and transit options are truly limited. Getting downtown to my office and out to Folsom for clinic are going to be extraordinarily challenging. It’s like this is 2019 playing out again. For the moment, I can’t face it.

I. Just. Can’t. Face. It.

I’m trying to have a sense of humor, but all I can think of is Lucille Ball in 1985’s Stone Pillow. I’m going to end up sleeping in a doorway dishing out sage advice to young, inexperienced social workers, until I’m beaten to death by another vagabond for my (admittedly fabulous) shoes.

I. Just. Can’t. Face. It.

It all just seems too much to bear right now.

Fuck, now I’m crying in a stinking McDonald’s.

[violetedenchapters]

-Our First Night Alone-

Part 2

***WARNING***SUGGESTIVE CONTENT & SWEARING***MINORS DO NOT INTERACT***18+ ONLY*** SMUT***🔥🔞🥵

Now home, Violet and Lincoln waste no time showing one another just how much they’ve been craving time to themselves. Finally, the night was theirs and it had only begun…

**these characters belong to Jessica Shirvington’s “Embrace” series, I DO NOT own these characters**

Within seconds of the door closing, Lincoln had thrown our bags onto the livingroom couch and picked me up in his strong arms, slamming me against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist as he passionately kissed me, his lips tracing down my neck, causing my eyes to roll back.

He carried me over to the breakfast bar where Linc plopped me down on the counter and ripped my dress at the slit completely revealing my underwear.

I gasped at the sudden tear but Lincoln simply growled between kisses, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

He slid his hands up my dress, wrapped his fingers around the band of my underwear, sliding them off me in one swift motion.

All the while, kissing and touching my body all over, ingulfing me in his sunshine and honey rich power.

After tossing my lacey underwear off to the side, Lincoln brought his lips back to mine and began kissing me with such intensity, we both quickly ran out of breath.

He started to trail his kisses down my neck, pulling down the thin spaghetti straps of my dress to reveal my breasts. His mouth immediately dropped down to my right breast. He captured my nipple in his mouth as he started to tease my other breast with his left hand. I bit my lip as my head tilted back and a low moan escaped my lips.

God the things he does to me…

Linc brought his lips back up to mine, both of us breathless and hungry for more. I reached between us palming him, feeling he was already hard. Lincoln sighed, looking up at me with dark, lust filled eyes.

He’s so damn sexy… and he’s all mine.

I fumbled with his belt, finally undoing it and frantically stripped him of his pants and boxers.

His length sprang out, lightly grazing my leg. I quickly reached down and grabbed him, feeling him become more hard in my hands as I began to stroke him.

I need to feel him inside of me now!

His grip on me tightened and his hands began moving more frantically over my body, finding their way in my hair, around my waist, and on my breasts. Suddenly he dropped down to his knees and I gave him a concerned look to which he shot me back a devilish grin.

“Linc what are you doing?” I said breathless, “Just having dessert,” and he dove into me without another word.

My breath immediately caught before I loudly moaned as he began eating me out with such intensity and passion. It felt as though he was a starving man and I was the first meal he’s had in years.

And he was devouring me.

His warm tongue caressed my clit, each firm flick causing me to shutter and moan louder and louder. Overcome with intense pleasure, I fisted his hair in my hands forcing him to stay in place as I felt an orgasm fast approaching.

I threw my head back and screamed “Linc… I’m…I’m gonna…”

Clearly feeling my climax through our connection, he persisted with intensity and slid two fingers inside of me, thrusting them in and out as I bit down on my lip, fighting back the tears of pleasure welling in my eyes.

“Fuck!” I yelled out as I lost control of my body and my legs began to shake.

I shuttered as my eyes rolled back and I let out another cry before cumming onto his hand.

I felt a wave of embarrassment come over me as I looked at Lincoln, his hand and mouth drenched in my cum. Clearly I had squirted which I’d never done before.

Would he be upset? Or grossed out?

“Linc…I’m so sorry…I didn’t know I could do that…”

He chuckled that chuckle he reserved just for me, the one that melted my heart. “Baby, it’s okay. I’ve been dying to taste you” he said with a sexy grin on his glistening lips.

He stood up and lovingly cupped my face in his hands. Linc pulled in but kept his forehead resting on mine, “and you taste fucking incredible…” He crashed his lips into mine, letting me savor the lingering cum on his mouth that tasted of vanilla cream and honey.

The taste of our powers together was fucking delicious.

He continued to kiss me hard as he lifted me off of the breakfast bar and onto him, sliding in with ease. We both let out a low moan as Linc started to thrust himself into me, slowly at first but gradually getting faster and harder.

Fuck he feels so good

“Yes baby!” I moaned in his ear, “Right there, don’t stop!”

He turned to the nearest wall and pinned my body against it with his strong arms, continuing to slam my hips down onto him. The sound of our bodies colliding together eachoed throughout the warehouse.

“Oh I wasn’t planning on it” he growled in my ear.

[fornassau]

Charles loved how he looked at that little girl. He looked at her and cradled her like she was his own and it was ridiculously heartwarming. Cuddled up in the couch, singing to him and the baby? He could see this life for himself. He wanted this for himself, but everything would come in good time.

We’re they going to kiss?!?! Ellie looked up at them both excitedly, looking back and forth. “ Old people are so cute.” But then the doorbell rang and she was on her feet in an instant. She giggled to herself. Spaghetti! “ She shouted, which roused her sister into squirming in James arms grumpily, wiggling this way and that with a little cry.

According to the blush that blistered his face, his boyfriend liked that song. He wasn’t done with it, but he had the chorus figured out. It was his little love song to him and he was sure there would be more. He’d been working on another cat the same time. Hell, even Anne had remarked how mushy his writing had been. God, he loved him. He was head over heels in love with him, more than he’d ever been with Eleanor. He didn’t think he could love again after her but here he was, and this was what real love felt like. He knew it in his soul. And just when it seemed James was going to say something, that damn bell rang. He sighed heavily.

But then winced when Ellie shouted, eyes lowering with worry to the fussy baby. “ Aw, sweetie it’s okay.. here let me take her off your hands. You grab the door. And Ellie? “ His eyes narrowed slightly. “ Inside voices. “ At least it proved he could be disciplinary in some way, leaning to give the side of his mouth a loving kiss, then take the squirming bundle that had now started to cry.

“ I’m sorry, Uncle Charles. “. Charles shook his head. “ It’s all right, you just gave Lily a rude awakening. Would you help James set the table? “ She couldn’t do too much but she could set silverware out and she nodded excitedly. Ellie liked helping the big people do things. She liked helping most of all.

“ I’m going to go grab her diaper bag out of her room and grab her mashed carrots. “ He smiled a little, which meant James and Ellie would be alone for a little, the larger man disappearing down the hallway with the baby’s head on his shoulder, softly rubbing her back in an attempt to stop her fussing. All right little girl, I’ve got a yummy dinner coming right up.. “ His voice trailed down the hall. He’d be back shortly.

Charles had to tried his emotion about it but he simply couldn’t. It had hurt him deeply that he had already lost a child. Poor thing hadn’t taken a breath, but she was well enough along that he’d listened to the babe’s heartbeat. It was the abortion that had been the final straw for him. And now here his boyfriend was comforting him with touch. He could care less the names he called her for they were all fitting. “ She would have been a terrible mother. But I would have done anything and everything for her and that child. “ Showed what kind of man he was really. Even if she was awful. He still would have taken care of her.

When he reassured him one day he’d have children and sealed it with a kiss, it was as if the previous discussion melted away. There was something about how James looked at him then, how filled with love his eyes were. Maybe he wasn’t so afraid to talk of such things now. But that next little comment, made him laugh against his mouth, chasing to steal one more kiss before any child could pay too much attention. “ I’ll have you know I’ve already been writing songs about you. And yours are more pleasant. “ They were love songs.

Charles watched as he looked down at his niece. What was that look? It was almost a longing. “ They are a handful, but girls can be so sweet and loving. So could a boy if raised right. You’d be good with a boy I think, but my heart is soft seeing you like this with Lily. “ After all the baby was still in James arms, fast asleep. He leaned to her, softly running his fingers over bits of blonde hair. And then, he softly started to sing.

“ Cause you are everything, the only thing that matters.. “ It was sung like a soft lullaby but Charles had written it as a love song. He was still working on it, but here he was curled up with James and a baby, singing happily. “ Cause you are everything, the only thing I need.. “ And now, he finally raised his eyes to James and sang right into him. “ You are everything, the only thing that matters.. yes you’re my everything, you are the air I breeeeathe.. “

When her uncle started to sing, Ellie had immediately looked up. She loved when he sang. She couldn’t listen to everything he sang as some was bad words, but this she could and she was smiling from her spot in the floor, looking between the two of them and waiting to see her uncle’s boyfriend reaction. Uncle Charles needed lots of kids in her opinion. That way they’d have plenty of siblings to play with and she’d have nieces and nephews!

[sunshinesteviee]

Please please please can you write a blurb based on this. It is the most cutest thing I’ve ever fucking seen

babes. thank you so much for sending me this bc omg. my heart melted. so sorry it took a while for me to get to, i hope you like it!! wc: 731; f!reader, dad!steve

-

Spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove and garlic bread in the oven, you tiptoed out of the kitchen, concerned about the relative quiet of your house. When you’d gotten home, it was abundantly clear that your little boy was going to need a bath before dinner, as he was covered in dirt from playing outside, and markers from coloring. Steve had volunteered immediately, scooping Wyatt up into his arms and whisking him away to the bathroom. 

While you’d started on dinner, the house was filled with a myriad of noises — lots of excited shrieks, giggling (from both of your boys), the sound of the bath running, and splashing water. And now, it was suspiciously quiet. Figuring the food would be okay for a few minutes, you made your way down the hall to the bathroom to see what they were up to. 

What you found, though, absolutely melted your heart. Before you could see them; you could hear them. Steve was humming My Girl by The Temptations. It was one of his favorite songs, and he always sang it to you. The song almost always made you tear up, but what came next took you out. 

Steve started singing, a soft sound over the splashing of water in the tub, “I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way? Mama!”

Your baby’s voice echoed his, “Mama!”

“Mama!” 

“Mama!” 

You peeked around the corner of the bathroom, to find your husband kneeling on the floor in front of the bathtub, hands covered in shampoo and in his mini-me’s hair as he sat in the tub, splashing at the water carefully. Neither of them noticed you, so you watched for a bit longer as Steve kept singing the song, but replacing all of the lyrics with ‘mama.’ Wyatt kept repeating after him, adding in his own little ‘oooh’s every once in a while. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched quietly, holding your hand over your mouth. You watched until Steve started rinsing Wyatt off, ready to pull him out of the bath, and then quickly walked back to the kitchen. Your hands wiped over your cheeks, brushing away the tears that had started to fall. There was no doubt that Steve loved you, but seeing him with your son, quite literally singing your praises, made you feel loved more deeply than you had ever felt before. 

You busied yourself with finishing dinner — and trying not to cry — but knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from squeezing the life out of Steve when he came back into the kitchen. And it was only a few minutes later when your boys came into the kitchen, Wyatt perched on Steve’s hip with fluffy wet hair, a clean face, and a pair of pajamas. You only noticed when he shouted your name, “Mama!”

Tears welled in your eyes yet again as you turned around, holding your arms out to your little boy, “Hi, my love! Are you all cleaned up?”

Wyatt babbled something unintelligible as Steve passed him to you, his small arms wrapping around your neck in a hug. “Nice and clean, huh!”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in concern as he noticed your eyes sparkling with tears, and he tilted his head to the side in a silent question, You okay? 

You nodded and held your free arm out, motioning for him to come closer. Steve didn’t hesitate, wrapping you and your little boy up in a hug. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and hugged you as tightly as he could. You didn’t care that Steve’s shirt — wet from being splashed at — was now soaking into yours, or that your garlic bread might get a little too toasty in the oven. All you cared about was your boys in your arms. 

You ducked your head, pressing a soft kiss to Wyatt’s forehead, “I love you, bub.” Your head tilted up, lips pressing to Steve’s jaw as you murmured, “And you. Love you so much.”

“Pretty sure we love you more,” Steve scoffed playfully, nose nudging into yours until you tilted your head back for a proper peck on the lips. “We’re the luckiest boys in the world, aren’t we, little man?”

Wyatt gave you a gummy smile, not totally understanding what was going on as he shouted his reply, “Mama!”

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

Could you do a Eddie one where he finally graduates, his music career took off and move out of Hawkins for good to start a new life with you

hope this is something like what you were looking for :)

forever with you / eddie munson

one shot

cw: cursing, cute shit, pet names

a collection of moments as your life with eddie munson begins

—

“eddie munson,” the assistant principal says into the microphone, causing you to scream. you watch as your boyfriend steps up on the stage and walks across it. it only took three tries, but he finally did it. you admired his smile and how his hair laid against the green gown.

and of course, as he’s always promised, he didn’t shake the hand of mr. higgins. instead he flipped him off, grabbed the diploma from his hands and walked off stage. many people in the audience gasped, but you just continued screaming and clapping. he winked at you from below the bleachers, the biggest smile on his face.

~

“oh, i am definitely going, are you kidding?” you asked excitedly, jumping on his bed and crawling into his lap.

he smiled at you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “are you sure? california is a long way from here…” he asks.

you roll your eyes, setting you arms on his shoulders. “what have we been saying since you graduated last may? fuck hawkins, let’s move to los angeles,” you giggled, giddy at the idea of living in the city,

“and college?” he asked, knowing you were in the middle of your degree.

you shrug. “you said we’d move this summer? i’ll have my associates then, so i’ll just apply to a college out there to finish, easy shit,” you say.

eddie smiles and pulls you in for a kiss. “i love you,” he says into your mouth.

“i love you more,” you say with a sweet smile.

~

you wiped your forehead as you stirred the pot of spaghetti, your la apartment was stuffy as hell but your boyfriend decided he absolutely needed pasta when he got home from his gig. for once it was during the day time, so he’d actually be able to eat with you at a decent time.

the door to your small, shitty apartment opened and you picked up a towel to wipe your hands. you turned around to greet your boyfriend but were stopped as you saw what was in his arms. eddie smiled, walking towards you. “surprise, baby. i got us a baby,” he says, kissing your lips before handing you the small black kitten.

“oh my god,” you cooed, taking the small kitten into your arms. eddie smiled at you proudly as you fussed over the kitten. “what’s its name?” you asked, feeling your eyes water at how cute it was.

eddie shrugged, “thought i’d let you pick his name.” you gasped, pouting as you looked at him. after much thought, you and eddie decided on midnight. that cat became more spoiled than some children.

~

“eddie, you’re making me nervous,” you mutter, gripping your purse as eddie guided you somewhere with a blindfold over your eyes.

eddie placed a kiss on your temple before continuing along. “we’re almost there, baby, i promise,” he says. you huff but continue walking anyways. as you’re walking, you notice you’re now walking on sand, making you slightly unsteady. eddie stops you and then his hands find the tie at the back of the blindfold. “ready?” he asks quietly.

“yes, yes, i’ve been ready,” you say impatiently. eddie chuckles at you and pulls the blindfold off. you blink, letting your eyes adjust for a moment before gasping. in front of you was a small table for two with wine and some of your favorite sweets. the sunset on the ocean was behind it and little lights twinkled around you. it was gorgeous. you turned to eddie, ready to engulf him in a hug but he wasn’t where you expected him to be.

he was down on one knee, holding an open box with a beautiful diamond ring inside of it up to you. “i had a speech, but i already feel like crying so i’m going to cut straight to it. y/n m/n l/n… will you marry me?” he asks, tears in his eyes. you put your hands over your mouth, tears coming to your own eyes as you nod vigorously.

“yes, oh my god, yes,” you say, and eddie takes your hand, sliding the ring on it before standing and pulling you into a kiss. “this means forever,” you say with a smile, admiring your ring.

eddie nuzzles into the side of your face and places a kiss on your ear. “yes it does, baby,” he hums, feeling content.

~

“don’t freak out but…” eddie trails, sitting on your couch next to you and midnight. you look at him alarmed, wondering what he needed to say that could possibly start with that.

“well get on with it,” you say impatiently, hitting him with a throw pillow.

he takes the pillow from you as he laughs before reaching and grabbing your hands. “guess who’s album is about to hit number one on the mainstream charts?” he asks with an uncontainable smile. your jaw drops and your eyes widen.

“oh my fucking god, for real?” you ask and eddie nods. you squeal and tackle him into the back of the couch with a hug. it only went up from here.

~

“this is fucking insane,” eddie said, his hands dragging on the walls of your new home.

you laughed, following him around (midnight in tow) your brand new home. scratch that. mini mansion. “you bought this,” you giggle, wandering over to the grand piano.

eddie nodded, admiring the dark chandelier in your entry way. “it’s just starting to feel real,” he says. the house wasn’t ginormous, but it was definitely more than double the size or more of any house either of you have lived in. the interior was mostly dark with splashes of some white for you here and there but it really was perfect.

you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head against his back. “my rockstar,” you mumbled fondly as eddie smiled.

“c’mon babe, let me show you your office,” he said, turning to grab your hand and pulling you down a hallway.

~

you and eddie had both agreed on having a smaller sized wedding. with his band getting so big, it was hard to avoid media so you planned a vegas wedding instead. it wasn’t all that glamorous, but it was perfect for you two. your guests only included eddie’s uncle, your smaller family, and a couple of your guys friends.

you felt multiple tears fall down your face as eddie reached his hand up to wipe them away. “eddie, you may kiss your bride,” your dad, the officiator, said with a big smile. eddie pulled you in, placing one of the softest kisses on your lips as you held tightly on to him. you were in paradise.

~

“eddie,” you called from the counter, stirring your coffee as you watched him make eggs.

he wore only a pair of boxer shorts, making you question how he wasn’t cold in your big house. “yes, angel?” he asks, flipping over your egg.

you smiled at the name, he’d started calling you that when you moved out here and you loved it. “do we want kids?” you asked, looking down into your mug.

eddie froze, turning to look at you suspiciously. “are you pregnant?” he asked carefully, wondering where that had come from.

you shook your head, calming him slightly. “no, i just… i’ve been thinking. if i want to be a mom and have kids, you know, i don’t want to wait much longer to start trying for one,” you explain. eddie looks at you for a moment analyzing and thinking.

he never saw himself as a dad, he just didn’t think he’d be good at it. but then again, he also never saw himself becoming so successful and ending up with you: the woman of his dreams. “sure, if you want kids… well, when have i ever been able to say no to you?” he says, smiling at you.

you smile back, still not knowing for sure if you’d end up having kids or not. you’d love to, but you’d also be content with it just being you and eddie. because at the end of the day it would be you and eddie. no matter what. forever.

[romantiqueofthemind]

Hosting (formerly Untitled Harry Blurb)

Hellloooo!!! First off, I’ve missed you all so much! I’m working on some more fics rn as we speak, but here is an untitled Harry Blurb that I wrote last week? Idk but it’s fluffy and cute so Enjoy!

Warnings: NONE!

Word Count: <1000 (less than 1000 for those of you who are bad at math like me lol)

"Come here bubs." You said calmly as you carefully lifted your son out of his high chair covered in Spaghetti sauce. He had turned over his dinner from being fussy and kicking around. You quickly took him to his nursery and undressed Henry from his messy onesie. You grabbed an emerald green onesie with a picture of a dinosaur on it and dressed the toddler. You loved him in that color, it really brought out how green his eyes were. You held him in your arms and shushed him gently as you stroked his light brown hair. Every day it seemed to amaze you how much he looked like his father.

You noticed the time, a reminder hitting you that it was time to turn on the TV. You took Henry into the master bedroom where you and your husband slept and set him down so he was sitting between your legs on the bed. You both were facing the large TV on the wall as you grabbed the remote, turned it on, and put in the channel number for CBS. Henry looked around your room. He hardly ever was in here, usually he was in his nursery room, the living room or the kitchen. He looked around and noticed your husbands side of the bed, noticing the objects on his nightside table next to the bed. Almost immediately, the boy started to get fussy again as tears welled up in his eyes. Henry started crying and kicking his feet against the bed in a similar fashion to the way he had when he was in his highchair. "Awww bubs... Shhh its okay. What's wrong sweetie?" You asked before crossing your legs and setting the toddler in your lap, doing your best to calm him. Your eyes shifted towards the TV as you heard the program start. "All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire, Give it up for a Mister Harry Styles!" You looked up to see a purple curtain pull back to reveal Harry wearing a dark emerald velvet suit, almost black.

"Lookie bubs! Look! Who's that?" You said pointing to the TV, the toddler turning his attention to the TV that displayed a smiling Harry Styles in front of a studio audience clapping and cheering. Henry looked up at the TV, his tears had stopped and his glazed emerald green eyes staring up at the TV in amazement. The moment Harry looked into the camera and smiled, blowing a quick kiss towards it, Henry's face immediately lit up. He smiled widely as he giggled, his arms moving up and down out of excitement. "Dada!" the toddler exclaimed. You couldn't help but giggle a bit yourself. Henry was so adorable and you loved him more than anything. "Yeah! It's Daddy! Can you wave and say hi to Daddy?" You smiled as you waved to the image of your husband on the screen, your son soon copying your movements. He then turned back to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. He looked so much like Harry, it was nearly too much for you sometimes.

Henry squealed and bounced up and down on the bed with excitement any time Harry would do something cute, or told a joke to get the audience to laugh. You absolutely adored how Henry idolized Harry, and vice versa. Even before Henry was born, Harry was absolutely ecstatic when he found out you were pregnant. He immediately picked you up in a hug and spun you around until you started to get dizzy before he called his sister, mum, and gran in a merged call as he went upstairs and shouted "M' GOING TO BE A DAD!" You couldn't help but laugh at how cute Harry was. It was one of the things you loved about him, how it seemed like you were married to a literal child, but it was amazing.

Your attention went back to the TV as Harry said "We have a great show for you tonight but first I wanted to give a quick message to my wife and son who are watching at home tonight. Y/n, baby I love you and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for making me a dad, I am eternally grateful." The audience clapped and cheered for a moment before Harry continued. "To my son, Henry, I love you so much bubs. You are the center of my universe and I would do anything to keep you smiling and happy always. Love you lots bud, I'll see you both very soon." Your eyes welled up with tears of happiness as you placed a kiss on your sons head and blew a kiss to the TV. You glanced back and fourth between the TV and Henry, just absolutely beaming at the two loves of your life. You were incredibly proud of Harry for all he has accomplished and how hard he's worked, and of Henry for only being 10 months old and being so interested in everything Harry does. You could tell that Henry would turn into an amazing kid with all of the best qualities of his dad.

Let me know if you guys want more Harry Styles Blurbs! This was really cute to write and I want to do more cute blurbs like this! Maybe I can do some with Austin? Lmk what you guys think!