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crazyunsexycool · 8 hours
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Maybe a certain Honey showed up and distracted Steve at the right time. Sure he got a bite or two of cake but by the time he looks down it’s gone. The only proof there was ever any cake at all are the chocolate crumbs and frosting all over Lottie’s mouth.
Imagine Lottie having lunch with Steeb and she steals her favourite food from his plate little by little without him noticing at the beginning.
Then when he notices his food missing, he stares at Lottie with suspicion and she's like "What steeb?"đŸ„ș
Like yeah no one saw that đŸ€·â€â™€ïžidk where Steve's food is going
This is so cute!! đŸ„° she totally would do that too!
Lunch thief
It should come as no surprise to anyone that at least once a week when Steve isn’t away on a mission he has a standing lunch date with Charlotte. If it were up to her they’d have lunch together every day but she’s a smart girl and knows her Steebie is busy. Without fail though they always meet at the compound’s cafeteria and get lunch. Did they start making Dino nuggies once Lottie started having lunch there? Maybe. But it seems like everyone loves them, even her Steebie so he always has some on his plate.
After getting their food they find a table. Lottie waves and high fives any agent they walk by. She even stops to talk to some of them. Until Steve has to pull her away. When they finally find a table, near the large windows, because Lottie loves to see what’s happening outside, she opts to sit on Steve’s lap instead of her own chair. Before they even dig in you, Henry, Bucky and Nat join the pair.
What most people don’t realize about Charlotte is that although she’s small she can eat like a grown up. It’s mostly the serum but when you put her favorite food in front of her, she really goes to town. It’s no surprise that as everyone is talking that she finishes her Dino nuggies and French fries rather quickly. But she still wants more and she eyes the food on Steve’s plate. With a little giggle she slowly moves her hand toward his plate to snag a nugget, she dips it in bbq sauce and takes a bite. It happens a few times before Steve looks down at his plate.
“Hey, what happened to my Dino nuggets?” Steve asks before looking down at Lottie suspiciously. “Did you take them?”
With wide eyes and trying to repress a giggle Lottie looks up at Steve and shakes her head. Steve narrows his eyes at her but turns away to continue his conversation with Nat. Lottie smiles, thinking she got away with it. Her hand creeps up again and she takes one more and then another. It’s starting to look obvious that the pile on Steve’s plate has gone down significantly so he turns his head again just as Lottie finishes her chewing.
“Are you sure you didn’t take my nuggets?”
She gives him her best for eyes and a little pout. “No Steebie. I no take anything.”
“Hhm, ok.”
When Steve turns his head again Lottie pulls her hand up and grabs one last nugget. As she’s popping it in her mouth Steve turns to look at her.
“I gotcha.” He says and Lottie screams, causing the nugget to fall on the table.
She’s laughing hysterically in his arms.
“Tell me the truth.” Steve says while tickling her sides. She only laughs more.
“Kay, kay.” She says after a breath but starts laughing again. “I eated them. Is so yummy Steebie.” She says between giggles at Steve’s faux shocked face.
“How could you?”
“Is so yummy.” She shrugs.
“Fine, no dessert for you.”
Charlotte gasps and looks over at everyone at the table, who had also been laughing, with full concern.
“But I wike dessuht.” She takes Steve’s face in both her small hands and pouts. “Can habe some? Just Steebie and Wottie?”
“You want to share your dessert?”
“Mm-hm.” She nods.
“Ok, I guess we can share.”
Lottie smiles and hugs him. “Lobe you Steebie.”
“Love you too you little thief.”
Lottie giggles as Steve gets up to get something sweet he knows she’ll love. There’s nothing better than sharing his lunch with his best girl.
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crazyunsexycool · 8 hours
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Definitely. I mean Henry and Lottie will be like đŸ€šđŸ€šđŸ€šđŸ€šđŸ€šđŸ€šđŸ€š like it is just a baby?
Baby Barnes would so love bubbles! đŸ«§ and Lottie and Henry would love to blow them bubbles too!
Oh my goodness what a sweet little baby!!!!
Baby Barnes would love bubbles. And more than Lottie and Henry blowing bubbles, they would get those little guns that shoot out bubbles and baby Barnes would be in heaven!!!
Also can we just talk about the fact that Bucky and Sugar would definitely cry their eyes out at every milestone baby Barnes reaches because Lottie and especially Henry didn’t get to experience and celebrate them? In my mind I’m already outlining the chapter where Sugar has the baby and it’s going to be beautiful but angsty because she won’t be able to not think about her two babies that didn’t get loved in the first few minutes of their lives.
So yeah anything that baby Barnes experiences will be very emotional for everyone!!
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crazyunsexycool · 9 hours
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Baby Barnes would so love bubbles! đŸ«§ and Lottie and Henry would love to blow them bubbles too!
Oh my goodness what a sweet little baby!!!!
Baby Barnes would love bubbles. And more than Lottie and Henry blowing bubbles, they would get those little guns that shoot out bubbles and baby Barnes would be in heaven!!!
Also can we just talk about the fact that Bucky and Sugar would definitely cry their eyes out at every milestone baby Barnes reaches because Lottie and especially Henry didn’t get to experience and celebrate them? In my mind I’m already outlining the chapter where Sugar has the baby and it’s going to be beautiful but angsty because she won’t be able to not think about her two babies that didn’t get loved in the first few minutes of their lives.
So yeah anything that baby Barnes experiences will be very emotional for everyone!!
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crazyunsexycool · 10 hours
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https://youtube.com/shorts/gjExW5ZAUzg?si=kVXx8i0uYQKqZhbY
Imagine baby Lottie's reaction to Steeb or Bucky shaving their beards😂😭😭
Omg I’ve thought of this before.
I think with Steve it would be that he grew his beard out and with Bucky it would be that he shaved. She wouldn’t take it well at all!!! đŸ˜‚đŸ˜‚đŸ˜‚đŸ€­đŸ€­đŸ€­đŸ€­
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crazyunsexycool · 11 hours
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😭😭😭😭 omg thumper is finally here!!!!!
Daryl passing out was low key funny because yes he can do a lot but he’s never seen a woman give birth before. But he was so sweet to her.
I just love this series so much!
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Blood Ties Chapter 29
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.
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“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 
Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.
Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 
Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 
Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 
After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 
“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 
“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”
You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”
“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”
“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 
Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”
You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 
“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 
“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 
Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 
“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 
“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 
“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 
“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 
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“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”
You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 
“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”
Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 
“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 
“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 
“You’d really let me do that?”
“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 
“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 
When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 
“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 
“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 
You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 
He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”
Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 
“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 
Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”
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“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 
The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 
“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 
“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 
“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”
Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 
“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 
“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”
“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”
“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”
“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 
Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 
“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 
Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”
You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 
“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 
Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 
“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 
The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 
“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”
“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”
“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”
The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 
“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”
“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”
You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 
You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 
But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.
“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.
His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 
There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 
“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 
“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 
“Herd?” You whispered. 
“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 
“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 
Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 
“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 
“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 
The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 
“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 
“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 
“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”
The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 
You were so close to being a mother. 
But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 
You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 
“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 
“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 
“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 
“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 
“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”
The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”
“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 
“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 
“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”
You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 
“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 
Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 
“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 
“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 
“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”
“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 
“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 
“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 
“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.
You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 
“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”
You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”
“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 
“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.
“The baby is crowning!” 
Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”
“The head will be out soon.” 
“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”
“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”
“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.
You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 
“The head is out!” 
Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 
“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”
“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 
Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 
You gasped. “Daryl.”
The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”
“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.
Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.
“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 
“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”
Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”
Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 
“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”
“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.
“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.
“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”
“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”
You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.
The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 
“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.
“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”
“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 
Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”
You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 
“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”
“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.
“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”
You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.
“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 
You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.
“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”
You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.
He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.
You could do this.
When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 
The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 
“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 
“Doc—”
The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.
“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.
Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.
“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”
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crazyunsexycool · 13 hours
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lol no it’s not a set up. I’m just showing how good a dad Steve would be and how much he wants to be a dad. đŸ„șđŸ„ș
A love as sweet as honey
This is so Steve and Honey bee coded
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crazyunsexycool · 13 hours
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Definitely. I’m writing chapter one now and let me tell you that there may be a tea party in there
. 👀
A love as sweet as honey
This is so Steve and Honey bee coded
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crazyunsexycool · 14 hours
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A love as sweet as honey
This is so Steve and Honey bee coded
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crazyunsexycool · 19 hours
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What if......
Lottie becomes the next Captain America 👀
That is a very interesting what if
.
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crazyunsexycool · 19 hours
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Wait hold up 😭
Lottie took Mjolnir to school?! She's worthy!
Remember that scene in a party when everyone was trying to lift Mjolnir and Thor would just smirk at them.
And then Imagine Lottie coming out of nowhere like yeah I wanna pay with mew mew now and just lifted it effortlessly and everyone's reaction is hilarious đŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł
Sam and Tony would be so jealous of Lottie but proud of her at the same time.
Yes she is. I have a theory that all kids are worthy. It changes once they get older and start making decisions that have great impact on their lives.
But yes imagine they’re all together and no one can really lift it.
“My turn.” Lottie says as she looks at mjolnir with determination. She picks it up as if were a piece of paper.
Everyone around her is just like đŸ˜łđŸ€ŻđŸ«ąđŸ«ŁđŸ«šđŸ˜§đŸ˜ź. Then she starts throwing it back and forth between her and Henry like if it were a ball!! lol
Sam and Tony would definitely be jealous!!
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crazyunsexycool · 1 day
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I'm Your Man Collection
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a short series featuring Andy Barber as a soft dark mafia boss who set his sights on you and never plans to let you go
While Andy Barber was well-known in Boston, there are whispers of a darker side, but few know the depths of his darker side. He's successful, he's charming, he's generous, and you're about to find out just how dangerous he can be.
Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] DUBIOUS CONSENT, extortion, explicit smut: oral (female and male receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, spitting, dom/sub undertones, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, somnophilia, financial spoiling
COLLECTION:
I'm Your Man [3k]
Morning Radiance [750]
Prepare for Takeoff [1.5k]
ask: a moment on your honeymoon [350]
Make Her Glow [1k]
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crazyunsexycool · 1 day
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As one of the Christmas presents, your Alpha promises to fulfill one of your fantasies, or introduce you to a kink you secretly wanted to try. What is it and how he's going about it? Does he surprise you with it? Or did you plan to make a special night of it?
Okay, not an alpha, but...
well...
I couldn't get this idea out of my head...
Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: Make Her Glow Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 986
Content Warnings: bondage, established coerced marriage, breeding kink
Logistical Notes: I think technically this is ... going to be a collection now. Sequel to I'm Your Man and a moment from their honeymoon. I just can't resist this Andy (and neither can you, dear reader).
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The domestic elements were incredibly important to Andy. He knew they were vital to building a happy, long-lasting relationship between husband and wife, and he wanted nothing less than that for both of you. Putting up the Christmas tree had been something he’d insisted on doing together, just the two of you, the day after Thanksgiving.
He’d driven the pair of you to the nicest tree lot, walked around holding your hand until he knew the two of you had found a tree you truly liked, then paid to have it delivered to your home after lunch. He had you direct the delivery men to put it exactly where you wanted it. He had helped you string it with lights, then decorate with garland and ornaments. You were still guarded – he had broken down many, but not all, of your walls, but it had been a good day.
But by far the most valuable thing from putting up the tree together had been the lights. He saw sheer, unadulterated delight shine through your eyes the first time they lit up. It was the passion he’d seen on your face so frequently during the first weeks he knew you – it’s what made him know he had to have you, and he loved seeing it again.
Each night, you had very easily let him hold you on the couch, all the other lights off, and sit together in the glow from the white lights of the tree. He had pulled so much more out of you each of those nights – memories, wants, dreams, worries.
He always knew you would work.
He knew you knew the two of your would work.
The soft glow of those lights had made you impossibly softer and warmer to him, and he fucking loved it.
But he hadn’t exploited that knowledge until tonight.
Having finally sent all the house guests home, you were turning off all the lights, and about to collapse onto the couch, but he intercepted you a step away from your destination, and tugged you gently upstairs. You knew not to fight him.
He knows you don’t want to fight him; you’re only holding onto small pieces of resisting him because he’s slowly been disarming every last piece of you, making you more and more vulnerable to becoming completely swept away by him.
He closes the bedroom door and then leads you to the bed. He slowly unzips your simple but beautiful party dress from behind, and you shrug it down your shoulders. He presses a kiss between your shoulder blades, and you can’t suppress a shiver. Then he unclasps your bra, and you let that fall to the floor, too. He slides a finger into the waistband of your lacey underwear on either side of your hips and pulls them gently down. You step out of them without direction.
He spanks you, just once, but it elicits the short, gasping moan he loves to draw from you.
“Up on the bed now,” he instructs.
“Yes, Andy,” your voice is soft, and you crawl up obediently.
“On your back in the middle of the mattress.”
As you move into place, you watch him, and he reaches for a box he left under the bed a few hours earlier.
Andy places the box on the bedside table, and first pulls out a thick, forest green satin ribbon.
He climbs up on the bed next to you. “Hold up your hands, wrists together for me.”
Despite everything else up to this point, he’s never physically bound you before.
Although he can see the evidence of your breathing speed up with the rise and fall of your chest, he’s incredibly pleased that you do exactly as he says, surrendering without a fuss. He wraps the ribbon around your wrists and forearms, then strokes your cheek. “Such a good girl for me.”
He moves back to the box, pulls out one end of the string, plugs it into the socket, and you gasp as a full string of white lights comes to life. Andy smiles and turns off the rest of the lights in the room.
Ten minutes later when he’s wrapped the lights around your arms – right over where the ribbons were first placed because he did want to protect your precious skin from being uncomfortable – and then bound you up to the headboard, where he strung the rest of the lights back and forth between the bedposts, and emerges naked from the large master closet, he fully appreciates the warm glow of the lights just as you have the lights from the tree. He more than gets it now.
Joining you once more on the bed, he runs his hands up your thighs, then guides them open and kneels between them.
“You’re so pretty like this, wife.”
You’re wet for him. Waiting for him.
“You want one more Christmas gift?” he asks, his eyes moving up your body to meet your eyes.
You let out a small, whimpered, “Yes,” and he smiles again. “Please,” you add.
“And I think it’s time we start really working on one more gift for me,” he says. He moves one hand to your hip and places the other solidly over your womb. “I’m done waiting to see you growing with my child, and it’s too perfect that you’re ovulating.”
Your eyes widen and your mouth opens just a little.
He smirks. “You think I really wouldn’t know something like that? Well, if you’re going to act dumb, I’ll just oblige and fuck you dumb. But, goddamn, you should know how perfect and beautiful you look for me just like this. Glowing under these lights? Perfection."
He leans down to kiss you. His lips move against yours, easily, he licks into your mouth, and you moan. He doesn't relent until you're breathless, and arching up beneath him.
"Now let’s make it so you glow for another reason.”
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I make no apologies for this.
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crazyunsexycool · 1 day
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This feels like your new husband, dark mafia Andy, looking up at you from across the living room of your basically-strangers-but-new-neighbors in who live just a few places down from the palatial new home he purchased for your honeymoon and future vacationing in Lake Como. You've just said something that made the gathering of neighbors laugh - a sarcastic answer to the question about how you two met and got together since they know about your whirlwind wedding. You put enough charm and sarcasm into your tone that the neighbors think you're joking about your engagement coming about through extortion with no way out.
But with that brief crinkle of his brow, a foreboding shot of danger shoots through you - as well as a traitorous wave of desire singing right into your core.
He may look more casual than you've ever seen him in that denim button up, but there's no mistaking that he's still ruthless and will have his way. He's going to punish you for your behavior, thinking you can make light or try to pull others in to help you escape.
Because he will never let you go.
And he's going to fuck you until you cry, and then past that, until you forget anything but the pleasure he brings you on his tongue, on his cock, on his fingers, in all your holes. He will be brutal. And then he will wrap you up in his arms as you pass out into sleep, naked against his nakedness, enmeshed in him, pulling you further into his carefully crafted control of this marriage, of you, convincing you again that you want this, couldn't want anything else.
And when you wake up, you hate him even more because you do want him and what he gives you. Because he's handsome, he's devoted, he's intoxicating, he takes care of you. That first night he claimed you, you told him you would have chosen him.
You would have.
You didn't know he was this, but... you had wanted him and assumed he'd never take you seriously.
Until he'd taken you without question and without a choice.
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crazyunsexycool · 1 day
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Prepare For Takeoff
Title: Prepare For Takeoff Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 1.5k
Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement
Logistical Notes: Another piece early in the days of the I'm Your Man AU.
Author Note: I started this AU when I was at an airport, and my recent trip had me thinking of these two again, and it had me wishing I were Andy's to spoil.
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While you aren’t used to being chauffeured to every aspect of your life (nor did you want to get used to it, the driver and vehicle yet another element that Andy insisted on in the new life he inserted you into), you know a security checkpoint where your driver had to stop and speak to someone else is not part of the typical route back to the palatial Barber Estate. You sit up straighter in your seat, looking first to the men in the front, but neither of them give anything away, your bodyguard Shep’s face is the same stoic expression as ever, and your driver Mark only glances into the rear view mirror to meet your eyes briefly.
Your brows furrow and you look out the window. You can only see large white buildings on either side of the SUV, and the overwhelmingly industrial feel has you at a loss for guessing the where and why of your location.
That is until you reach the end of the building and the car pulls around the corner. Now you see these large white industrial walls make up the sides of a row of aircraft hangars. While your jaw doesn’t drop, your mouth opens slightly. The jaw dropping moments as a character in the life of Andy Barber are so frequent, but you are starting to control your reactions a bit more.
The SUV pulls up smoothly to the side of a private jet, sleek and black, the late afternoon sun shining off its metal sides. Mark stops the vehicle, and as Shep opens your door, you are not surprised to see you are stepping out exactly onto a long, blue carpet that leads from the SUV to the bottom of a set of white stairs. At the top of them, Andy emerges from the plane, nodding to you. You smooth down the front of your clothing and glare up at him.
“What is this?” You call up loudly.
“You know what it is.”
“Where are we going?”
“Away for the weekend. Now, don’t be difficult, sweetheart, you’re going to love this.”
You feel a sting in your eyes but quickly blink it away.
You hate this because you know he is right.
Yet again he will undoubtedly give you exactly what you want and go beyond what you could even imagine for it, but because he wants to, not because you want any of it.
That is the constant curse in this relationship.
Everything you want, but all your choices stolen from you before you can make them.
You concentrate on taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase, mustering the strength that you will need for this. You have to armor yourself against his charm and his cunning. Every moment with him is dangerous.
“I thought it was time to take you away, make you forget the everyday. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”
You blink, open your mouth, then shut it again. He is the source of the stress, but you don’t trust what would happen if you said that.
He smirks, then sweeps you into a kiss that immediately sends tingles all through your body, from where his lips press insistently against yours, tongue teasing into your mouth, to the hand he plants possessively onto you hip and the other on your back, pressing you flush against him, down to your toes, legs feeling unstable as he takes your breath away. You are helpless but to cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, because your traitorous body willingly surrenders to him, damn near craves him.
He finally lets you breathe again when you tap against his chest and turn your head, gasping for air.
He kisses your cheek, then your neck just beneath your ear.
Getting your breath back, you give a small huff. “So, what? I don’t even get to pack? You just have whatever I need for the flight and when we get wherever we’re going, I’ll just arrive to a closet full of new clothes and accessories?”
“Naturally.” You can feel his smirk against your skin for a moment before he bites at your delicate flesh.
“This is insane.” You push away from him and step through the open door of the jet.
“It’s not insane,” he says, stalking close behind you.
The interior of the plane is sleek, minimal, but the flavor of the furniture and decor evoke the same feeling as the common spaces of his estate with lush leather and dark wood.
The fact that there’s furniture

“It’s not normal.”
Hand to your back, Andy ushers you further into the plane. “You’re never going to be subjected to normal again in your life.”
“But what if I liked normal?”
He sits on a leather loveseat and pulls you down immediately next to him, nearly in his lap. He counters, “You liked needing to get to the airport early, check your bags or haul them through security with your three-ounces-or-less limit on liquids, take off your shoes, and trek through the terminals to your gate?”
You sigh and look straight ahead.
He chuckles and beckons over a gentleman who offers a tray of drinks.
“Bourbon or champagne?”
“Thank you,” Andy says, and takes a glass of the dark bourbon.
“No, thank you,” you decline.
“The captain says we are clear for take off on your word, Mr. Barber.”
Andy nods. “Wheels up then. We’ll take dinner in ninety minutes. You can leave us until that point.”
“Call if you need anything, sir.”
You hear the click of a door as the man disappears. Andy takes a slow drink, then presses the glass to your lips, forcing you to take a sip before he sets the glass aside.
You feel the jet begin to move and then turn toward the runway.
“You deserve more than normal,” Andy says, eyes on you, returning to your conversation from moments before.
“Andy
” you hedge.
“I will whisk you away anywhere in the world. I’ll give you everything you want. You’re mine to spoil. You’re going to live a beautiful life with me.”
“Andy,” you start again, but unsure how to counter.
He growls your name and yanks you abruptly into his lap. He cuts any argument you were about to launch into by biting at your lower lip and grinding you down onto his hard bulge.
You whimper and throw your head back.
Andy assaults your bared neck with heated kisses. He knows he’ll have you a pliant mess for him to slake his lust in a matter of moments.
You know it, too.
And you know he’ll overwhelm you with pleasure of your own, never a selfish lover even though every other bit of him is selfish.
His fingers slip under the fabric covering your core without hesitation, and he strokes your labia, gathering more and more of your arousal as the plane picks up speed. Slow strokes back and forth, back and forth. The pad of his forefinger circles your clit and you bite back a whimper.
“Mmm, you know I love those noises you make.” He circles your bundle of nerves again, this time with his thumb, letting two of his fingers dip just slightly into your slick channel. “Give me what I want,” he coos, coaxing with another circle, and another, and you finally break, moaning openly for him.
“That’s it, sweetheart, let me know how good I make you feel.”
He pumps his fingers full into the knuckle now, and not like anyone else you’d ever been with intimately before. It’s only been a few weeks, but Andy has taken every opportunity to become a master of your body and coax and command pleasure out of every inch of you. He knows just how much pressure to apply when fucking you with his fingers, and he pushes into that spongy spot at the front of you walls insistently, repeatedly as the jet leaves the ground, making you cry out and shake on an abrupt orgasm.
You sink forward, hanging your head on his shoulder, but it’s only the first orgasm he plans to ply from your body on this flight. He draws your left hand to his mouth, and hums as he places a kiss first against the band of your engagement ring on your finger and then into your palm, before trailing his lips to your wrist. He eases you down to the floor, and you lay back and watch as he shucks off his pants above you before descending down to sheath himself inside you next, demanding more.
And as he fucks you there, then on another of the chairs, then takes you back to the sleeping quarters for yet more, you bend to his will and his demands and his lust, overcome with everything he is and everything he makes you feel, lost in the complexity of what he’s confined you into. His spoiled and ruined sweetheart.
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crazyunsexycool · 1 day
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crazyunsexycool · 1 day
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They are the flip side of You Taste Like Suburbia Stucky. Just a filthy too!! 😏😏
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i will never NOT think disgusting dbf!stucky thoughts when i see this photo
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crazyunsexycool · 1 day
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In the beginning, Henry is very possessive of his baby Lottie.
They are inseparable. If Lottie is cuddling anyone for more time than his liking (even if it was his mama and dada), he just goes to them and raises his hands like " okay give me my baby now"
Absolutely! He would cling to her. Henry would always have to hold her hand or sit right beside her. If she took a nap he’d lay in bed with her. At night Bucky and Sugar just let them sleep in the same bed because they knew he would leave his room and go find her if they laid them down separately.
If she was upset and wanted to be cuddled by anyone he would stay close by but once his anxiety about her being taken away was too much he’d gently grab her and pull her away. Then he’d sit and continue cuddling his baby.
Obviously things are very different now and they both can manage doing things separately. But they still like to be together most of the time. Even though Lottie doesn’t understand exactly what happened to her bubba she knows when she needs to be by his side to ease the anxiety he gets.
It’s a work in progress but even when they grow up they’ll always be very close!
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