♡ Description: You find your husband spending time with your newborn son.
Heavily inspired by this piece of art!
Waking in the dark isn’t anything new to you. An aching body isn’t either. What is new, though, is the blank spot next to you in bed.
Your hand reaches out and feels the diminishing warmth from Vash’s bed side. He left a little bit ago, then. You’re tempted to fall back asleep, only…your eyes adjust to the dark, and you see the lamplight on through the bedroom doorway, down the hall.
Bleary, you look at the watch at your bedside table, using moonlight through the window to see. Three-o-two A.M. You sigh, sitting up. You’re still tired, but love and duty calls, even if Cooper isn’t crying right now.
Carefully, you get out of bed, minding the creaking floorboards beneath the rug and down the hallway. Your nightgown brushes your ankles. As you get closer to the pillar of light coming from the other room, you slow and listen.
“Cooper…little Coop…” A pause. “My Cooper-boy…”
You peak in.
Vash is turned from you, but you see your son laying on his shoulder. His little face is slack with sleep. Your husband sways back and forth slowly, rubbing a hand up and down the baby’s back. A small hiccup escapes your son.
“Oh yeah?” Vash murmurs, gently patting Cooper’s back. A big burp escapes next, followed by a newborn grunt. “Oh wow. Holdin’ that one in, huh?”
You bite your lip to keep your giggle in. Part of you wants to go in, but another part tells you that this is Vash-and-Cooper time. You watch from the sidelines.
Vash readjusts the blanket Cooper’s swaddled in. Holds him closer, nuzzles the babe’s cheek with his nose. “Love you,” he says quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to soft cheek, “Love you Coop. Yeah. You’re my boy, huh?”
The look on Vash’s face, even from the side, is one of pure peace and tired bliss. Ever since Cooper’s birth two weeks ago, Vash has been nothing but a doting husband and father. His eyes close slowly, pressing his nose into Cooper’s hair and inhaling. He’s mentioned several times now how he loves the “new baby” smell he has.
Cooper lets out another low grunt, tiny fist escaping the blanket to rest on Vash’s shoulder. Vash reaches up with a hand and holds Cooper’s hand with two fingers, wiggling it. “You’re a bubba, a bubba-boy,” Vash sings a little tune, swaying his hips as he walks around the room, “A bubba-boy, a bubs.” Cooper lets out a little coo. Vash presses another kiss to his cheek. “My bubs.”
It’s then he turns and sees you in the shadows. Vash jumps, holding Cooper closer for a moment, before relaxing and sighing. Knowing you’re caught, you come into the lamp light and smile. “I didn’t hear him this time,” you greet.
Vash smiles and bounces the baby a little. “He wasn’t crying. I just…” he shrugs, “Just wanted to hold him.”
Your heart swells. “Hm.” You come forward and gently scratch the back of your son’s head. He has a full head of hair, just like his dad. “Did you sleep at all?”
Vash shakes his head. “Nah. I kept feeling like I was gonna jump out of bed at every little noise. Just wanted to check on him.” Such is the life of a new parent. Everything makes you on-edge and tired at the same time. He eyes you. “What about you? Did you sleep?”
You pause a moment. “I had some weird dreams, so yes.”
He lays a cheek on Cooper’s head. “What were they about?”
You shake your head. “I’ll tell you later. This is your time with him.”
Vash looks a bit guilty. “It’s okay if you want to see him too, you know.”
“I know. But it’s good to have one-on-one time with him too.” You yawn. “Besides, I know he needs a bottle soon. I’ll go make it.”
“No, mayfly, you go back to bed – “
“I’m already up, hon. You snuggle him, I’ll go get him a bottle.” You lean forward and press a kiss to the corner of Vash’s mouth, then to Cooper’s head. Vash gives in easily – much more easily than he would have five years ago – and goes to sit in the armchair in the corner of the room.
As you leave the room, you smile, hearing Vash start up his little tune again. “You’re my bubs, my bubba-boy, my Cooper-boy, my Cooper-bubs~” That nickname is going to stick for a lifetime, you can already tell.
[vid id: It's Lysvher, holding on to the couch while the Tindalos hound is in the background causing mild screen fuzz. After a few grunting whining, she let's go from her cruising and toddles a few steps alone before clinging to the couch again. She did it. Her first true steps unassisted.]
I know it's probably passe to post about the kids, but this is a huge accomplishment. First assisted steps are huge! Before long I'm chasing her (and her brother for that matter) around the house.
Now for the angst fanart… I present to you: Chapter 17 of Kopio
”Inside the shield Izuku was crying over the still form of his injured father. Hizashi was basically unconscious but he had such obvious and painful looking injuries that Izuku was afraid to shake him awake like he did in the mornings.
Everything around him was fuzzy and quiet, the only thing Izuku could focus on was his Papa.
“Papa! Papa, please”, Izuku begged as his small hands stroked Hizashi’s cheek, coming up bloody, “Papa please wake up. Wake up Papa!” Izuku begged and had begged for the last fifteen minutes. But the few times Papa had shown any signs of waking up or being… being alive, he had only made the smallest of movements, his face had scrunched up in pain and a quiet sound of distress had left his lips. Izuku was getting hysterical with how Papa wasn’t responding and was hurt and that monster was out there and had tried to k-ki-kill kill his Papa.
——
Objectively, Shouta had known what was waiting for him behind the shield. And yet, when the shield finally disappeared, and he was met with the sight of Hizashi lying unconscious on the ground, badly injured and with a hysterical Izuku beside him with his hands and clothes turned red by Hizashi’s blood, the sight still managed to be something he hadn’t been able to quite prepare himself for. The image was bound to be added to his nightmares.”
That's true! About five years ago, maybe six when I was still living back home a kid at my taekwondow school came up to me and said. Miss Anna, what's herpes?
I once got “we [a set of twins] had another brother but he died when he was born because his heart broke open” like outta no where while I was teaching first grade religion when I was in high school and my 15 year old ass was like “😶😶😶 Jesus loves him in heaven?” And quickly changed the subject
Fingertips sparked orange embers, slowly crackling to become little flames. Every time it merely came to life for a second before fizzling out. And it didn't help that her allergies were acting up in the mountains. An occasional sneeze and whoosh! she would lose some article of clothing.
Now at the age of seven, a young Iris was practicing with her mentor--father figure--Hanzo. After another attempt of making a fireball, it fizzled out between her hands. "It's not working!" She shouted, before sitting down on a rock. "I'll never be that good, Papa."
