#I’m such a baby with tooth pain lol

[compact-turtle]

Can we get some fun facts on Orion? He's such an interesting character to read about the way you write is immaculate

Of course!! Don’t know if these are fun facts lol but here’s a little bit about Orion, the yandere space explorer…

-was not meant to land on your planet. An unexpected asteroid through him off collision to his original destination. 

-weak baby with noodle arms (at least in your eyes).

- master manipulator and gaslighter. 

-likes when you accidentally hurt him (scratches him, playfully bites too hard, etc…) because it means you give him more attention. He’ll play it up saying he’s gonna die from it because humans are so weak compare to you. 

“I didn’t know I could be in this much pain. I’m afraid I’ll die from this injury. Could you hold my hand and sing me a song so I feel a bit better?” 

-a bit emotionally dumb and hasn’t realized his feelings for you. Just knows he doesn’t want to share you or your world with anyone else. 

-has two different journals. One dedicated strictly to you. Another for whatever else he deems important. 

-can do bare minimum cooking. Uhhh safer for you to do it though. 

-but amazing at cleaning and organizing your house :) 

-He says you go foraging “together” but it’s just you babysitting. You have to make sure he isn’t eaten by a creature while he’s scribbling notes in his journal. Has happened multiple times ( ；´Д｀)

-is the epitome of the kid who touches stuff at the store when their parents (you) tell them not to. 

-got offered the mission because the original explorer died. He was the only one who volunteered. The team was on a tight schedule from their superiors and had no other choice but him.(Otherwise they wouldn’t have let someone with no survival skills go) 

-complains a lot.You’ll take him on trips and he’ll complain about his his feet hurt. Ends with you carrying him. Thankfully he feels as light a feather to you so it’s not a big deal. 

-adores when you play with his hair. He enjoys the feeling of you running your fingers through it or when you braid it. 

-will die if he doesn’t receive at least one instance of physical contact . Could just be snuggling together in bed or you carrying him through the woods. 

-loves doing culture exchanges with you. He’ll tell you stories about his people and you’ll sing songs from your culture. 

-hates when you feed him vegetables. Would rather starve 

-on the other hand. Loves sweet things and has the biggest sweet tooth. 

-has become spoiled because of you. You adore your new friend so you often bring him presents. 

-tried to adopt a dangerous creature until you told him to put it back in the wild :( 

-enjoys that he doesn’t have to pay for things. Back on his planet, his salary was pretty low since he was only a junior researcher. Didn’t help that he lived in the capital where everything was expensive. 

-his diet consisted of energy drinks, caffeine, ramen noodles and candy back on his home planet

-can do a backflip if you ask (only cool trick he knows)

#male yandere #tw yandere #yandere drabble #yandere alien #male yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #Yandere space explorer #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc imagine #yandere oc #male yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere thoughts

[gingerjolover]

Sweet Angel - Lucy Dacus x Reader

Sypnosis: Lucy's gf has chronic pain, so she wears many different hats - nurse, dog mom, and sweet angel from heaven above

G's notes: surprise shawtayyy (also I love my tens machine lol)

WC: somewhere around 2k (woweeee)

Warnings: RPF, tooth-rotting fluff, chronic pain, physical therapy marks, no fundamental physical descriptors?

The house is dark, way darker than it should be for the afternoon, automatically sending Lucy on high alert. She sighs softly, putting to the universe that you’re just napping and not having a flare-up. Trying to be quiet as she walks into your shared home, she sees your dog Murphy’s head rising from the couch, immediately knowing that you’re indeed having a flare-up and you've unknowingly shut the door on your poor Murphy in your pain-induced haze. Recognizing one of his humans, he stands up, stretching before wobbly walking over to Lucy, his tail wagging. ”Is mama sleeping, Murph? Hm?” Lucy asks, leaning down and scratching his chin. Lucy treads quietly, placing her keys down on the thrifted hall table. Toeing her shoes off, she puts a Trader Joe’s and her studio bag on the dining room table. 

She quietly pads up the stairs, her heart cracking when she sees you laying face down on your shared head, a heating pad on your back, an ice pack on your neck. 

“Hi, love,” Lucy says softly. 

You groan in response painfully; Lucy notices. 

"Hey," you exhale through clenched teeth. Your voice is raspy, and it takes a few tries just to say that one word. You slowly roll over on your side, keeping close to your heating pad and ice pack.

"Rough day, huh?" Lucy whispers, her heart aching as she sees the state you're in. The pain in your voice is evident, even when you say very little. Lucy’s hand lifts your shirt, checking on your skin, constantly wary that you’ll burn your skin in desperation for some relief. She immediately notices the deep bruised circles on your back, wincing when she realizes you went to physical therapy this morning. 

“Sarah did some cupping, I see… how was therapy?” she asks softly, trailing her fingers over the marks.

“F-Fine,” you slur, teeth chattering from the sheer uncomfortableness. “I was fine all day… had lunch and then I walked Murphy and got home and… it hurts Luce,” voice trembling, tears leaking onto the pillow. 

"I know, I know," Lucy whispers soothingly, reaching out her hand to gently rub your back as she speaks. "I'm so sorry, baby. Do you want me to bring you some ibuprofen or your tens machine? What do you need?" Lucy does her best to keep her voice and tone gentle to avoid triggering an even more intense flare-up. She doesn't want you to feel more pain than you already are and wants to take care of you.

“I don’t know,” you sob softly, rubbing your eyes furiously. 

"Okay, hang on, sweet girl," Lucy says, her voice still gentle and soothing. She leaves the room momentarily and returns with ibuprofen and your tens machine. She helps you sit up more and then puts the tens machine around your back, emitting a subtle buzzing sound. She gently squeezes your hand with her own, offering some support and reassurance. "Would it help you if I made dinner and did the dishes tonight?" she asks.

“I’m not hungry,” you sniffle softly, the pain radiating up your back, throbbing deep into your skull. 

"I know," Lucy sighs quietly. "But you have to eat, love. Let me make you something light, just a little bit of something, okay?" Lucy gently strokes your hair back with her fingers, her tone still soft and caring. "You want some sourdough toast? An apple with peanut butter? I bought those crunchy things from Trader Joe’s that you like…" she offers. 

Your whimpers are response enough, her hand rubbing the back of your neck, knowing food is the last thing you want right now. “Do you want your migraine cap?” Lucy asks gently. 

“No, not now,” you respond, slurring softly. 

“When are you due for another injection, my love?” Lucy asks, rubbing your scalp. 

“Uhhhh….” it hurts to think, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Okay, okay… I’ll just look at the Google calendar; just relax,” Lucy says, cringing, reprimanding herself for asking so many questions.

Lucy gently pulls you to her chest, your face resting against her chest, cheeks smushed against her shirt. She rubs your hair gently, her other hand adjusting the pads of the tens. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice muffled against Lucy’s t-shirt. 

Lucy holds you close, her heart breaking as she listens to your words. She knows how much this pain takes a toll on you, the unpredictability always throwing you through a loop. She strokes your hair softly, her face frowning when she thinks of how you dealt with this while she was gone. She knows you’re capable, but there’s a part of her riddled with guilt when she’s away having the time of her life touring and traveling, knowing you’re home in a similar position to now. She has to commend you when you are up and moving around again. She’s been home precisely 11 days while on a break before the next leg of the tour, and this is your first flare-up, your commitment to pain management and self-care paying off. 

“What time is it?” you mumble groggily, cheeks wet and flushed, eyes puffy. 

"It's a little after 6:30," Lucy gently murmurs, holding you close. She strokes your hair and your back with her hand, trying to offer some comfort despite the numbness you often feel in your head. She could tell that the flare-up had been particularly rough on you, and she knew that the pain had only exacerbated your exhaustion. She wanted you to get some rest, even though you were likely to toss and turn from the pain. 

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closing, the ibuprofen and tens finally kicking in. 

“When did you walk, Murphy?” Lucy asks softly to gauge how long you’ve been lying in bed. 

“I don’t know… 3:30… maybe,” you slur, words soft and quiet. 

"That makes sense," Lucy whispers, her eyes on you as you slowly begin to relax and your eyelids droop. She smiles lovingly, her finger trailing down your face. She felt a little better seeing the tension in your face release and the creases between your eyebrows start to smooth out. 

She lays down next to you on the bed, her legs wrapped around yours, wanting to be close to you as you begin to rest. She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love you."

“Love you,” you mumble back, the faintest hint of a smile on your face, eyebrows finally relaxed. 

Lucy smiles softly as you say those words, her worries and anxieties slowly dissipating as she watches you fall asleep beside her. She worried about you and was scared to see you in pain. But the tiny smile on your face and the fact that you were finally falling asleep and getting some rest was a huge relief. 

Lucy watches you sleep for a while, Murphy moving up on the bed and a little too close for comfort for Lucy. She stands, tucking you in softly, removing the melted ice pack from your neck, and adjusting the heat pad further up your back. 

She beckons Murphy to the stairs; he’s staring at you in bed, whining softly. “Come on, Murph, potty time,” Lucy calls, trying to get him out of your bed and out of the bedroom. 

Murphy slowly gets off the bed, his ears drooping a bit. He doesn't want to leave you while you're sleeping, his stance at the foot of your bed almost protective. “Murphy, come,” Lucy says sternly, her tone soft enough to not wake you. He whines again, not wanting to leave but knowing he'll get much-needed attention and love once he goes outside with Lucy. 

"It's okay, Murph," she tells him quietly. She strokes his head and gives him a few scratches behind the ears, trying to gently encourage him to go outside. After a few more moments, Murphy finally gives in and follows Lucy down the stairs.

While Murphy does his business, Lucy can’t help but admire the sun setting, the sky awash with shades of orange, yellow, and pink. The trees and buildings cast long shadows across the skyline, and the view from your back porch was stunning. Lucy couldn't help but snap a few photos to capture the moment, knowing that it was something that you would love.

Eventually, she and Murphy return inside, throwing him a small treat and watching him gulp water as she fills his food bowl with dinner. She returns to the dining table, finally putting away the groceries, wincing when she remembers her perishables, but it hadn’t been that long. She moves about the kitchen, putting dry goods into jars and boxes in the pantry. While cleaning, Lucy can see the exact moment the flare-up started based on the random assortment of things lying out in the kitchen and moving into the living room. 

Lucy makes a quick little snack plate, knowing fully well you will only touch some of it. She fills up your huge water bottle with ice water and walks up the stairs, Murphy at her heels, excited for your bedroom door to be open again. 

Lucy gently nudges the door with her knee, and Murphy rushes in, excited to see you after being out. She places everything on the nightstand before moving to the bathroom to run a hot bath with Epsom salt, throwing some towels in the warmer, a thoughtful gift from Phoebe last Christmas. She returns to the bedroom, greeting you by kneeling on the floor near the bed, kissing your nose and cheek softly, her knuckle gently brushing your cheekbone. 

“Hmm?” you hum, eyes closed, feeling a nudging on the bed, Murphy’s nose gently pushing the back of your knee. Opening your eyes, Lucy is in view, her bright eyes and wide smile, soft features. “You look like an angel,” you murmur playfully, eyes crusty and cheek squished against the pillow. 

Lucy chuckles softly as you call her an angel, her face turning a bright shade of pink as she smiles softly. She gently brushes some of the tears from your face, her thumb gently caressing your cheek. "You need a minute to wake up?” she asks, unplugging your heating pad and checking the skin of your upper back again. You shake your head gently, the position becoming uncomfortable. “Hold on, sweetheart, give me a second,” Lucy says, tapping your shoulder as she pulls off the wires from your tens. 

“Bathtime," she teases, her voice still soft and gentle. She knew you were still in pain, and the exhaustion was catching up to you, but she wanted to make you comfortable. 

“You ran me a bath?” you ask, words still slurred from sleep. 

"Yes, I did," she chuckles softly, her face still flushed as she gently helps you sit up. She takes your hand and helps you swing your legs off the bed, trying to help you get your bearings. "It's just about ready. Do you want some help walking to the tub?" she asks gently.

“Please,” you whisper, eternally grateful for your sweet angel of a partner. 

"Of course, lovie," Lucy says softly, heart aflutter at your softness. She wraps her arm around your back and helps you walk down the short hallway and into the bathroom. She gently supports you until you're sitting on the closed toilet, and then she starts to help you undress. She's careful to keep you comfortable and not push you too much, but she also knows that soaking will help with some pain. “Arms up…atta girl,” she teases, lifting your shirt over your head. 

Lucy helps you slowly into the tub, hissing at the temperature and then relaxing in the hot water. A small smile grows on your face, almost bashful to sit in front of Lucy this way, even though this is common. 

 “Thank you,” you say, voice thick with emotion. Lucy sits down next to the tub, Murphy lying at her feet. 

"You're welcome, my love," Lucy whispers, her voice still gentle and caring. She leans against the tub, rubbing your knee, her eyes on you as you settle in and relax. Murphy’s head lifts to look at you softly, sighing contentedly and enjoying the quiet moment with his moms. The combination of the warmth of the bath and the Epsom salt helps to soothe your muscles and help you relax, and Lucy and Murphy are thrilled to see you finally getting a break from the pain.

#for my chronic pain girlies #we are in this together <3 #lucy dacus x reader #anon cutie #this one was a request i think #boygenius x reader

[fayes-fics]

Moments: The Birth of Baby Isobel

Moments Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict insists on being present at the birth of his second baby, having missed the first.

Warnings: none really.... fluffy fluff. Intentionally vague/not graphic descriptions of the horror that is childbirth.

Word Count: 1.8k

Authors Note: For me, this is tooth-rottingly fluffy lol. Just a lil gift for @iboopedyournose who wanted more Moments with Benedict holding his babies. Thanks to @makaylan for the read through and @margowritesthings for the Moments moodboard above.

“Mr Bridgerton!” the doctor exclaims, “we have this in hand. Please wait outside; we will call you in when your baby is born.”

“I’m okay, darling honest,” you assure your frazzled-looking husband. “The doctor is here; I will be fine.”

“But I don’t want to leave the room,” Benedict answers, almost frantic. “I can’t miss this!! I want to be here! I couldn’t for James. I have to for this one, my love; please don’t send me away!” He looks genuinely distressed.

You hold his hand and look at the doctor. “Doctor Samuels, if he promises to stay up by my shoulder with me, can my husband stay?”

“If he does not get in my way. Fine,” the doctor sighs, “but why he would want to is beyond me. No husband normally stays in the room.”

“Well, I am not a normal husband,” Benedict clips, not looking at him, and you squeeze his hand to calm his irritation.

“Stay here with me, darling. I need you to help me breathe,” you request, but at this moment, it’s as much for him as it is for you—anything to keep him from becoming a ball of anxiety.

“In two, three, out two, three,” you talk him through deep breaths, and the pulse hammering in his neck seems to slow as he breathes with you.

Then another contraction hits you, stronger than the last, and you grasp his hand tight and groan loudly, panting out breaths. It’s his turn to talk you through it.

“You’re doing wonderful, darling,” Benedict assures, taking a damp flannel offered by a midwife and wiping your brow.

“Push Mrs Bridgerton,” the doctor orders, and you do. Yelling and pushing with all your might. The pressure and pain are intense. You only have vague memories of this moment with James. You don’t remember it being this bad, but you suspect the mind may deliberately make you forget after it is over, or else no one would ever want another child, based on what you feel in this very moment.

“It hurts Benedict!” you wail, squeezing his hand so tight you swear you might break his knuckles.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he soothes, “it will be over soon then; just think, we will have another perfect little baby.”

“No more after this one!” you bemoan, puffing hard breaths.

“Yes, of course, darling,” he placates.

You scream again as another wave of pain hits you, doubling over, sweating and yelling.

You feel Benedict's strong arm wrap around your shoulders and him talking into your damp hair, encouraging loving words. Which, on the one hand, you know is incredibly sweet of him—no husband you know of has sat with his wife in the final throes of childbirth. But, on the other hand, you can’t deny that at this very moment, you sort of want to murder him for doing this to you.

After another round of dizzying pain, yelling, and crying, you hear the doctor announce they can see the head. Then it’s a frenzy of movement around you in quick succession. The passage of time seems elastic; it could have been minutes or hours; you honestly have no idea. With so much effort, your body feels like it is turning inside out, and a pain that is searing and life-altering, you eventually hear a lusty infant cry, and you flop back against the pillows as Benedict keeps talking sweet words.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor announces after a short pause, snipping the umbilical cord. “A healthy baby girl, all fingers and toes are here.”

“Let me see!” Benedict turns, looking away from you for the first time since your intense stage of labour started.

“The midwives are just swaddling her, Mr Bridgerton,” the doctor replies, “then she will be handed to your wife.”

“Benedict,” you croak exhausted, flopping your head over to look at him hazily, “thank you for staying with me.”

He turns back to you and wipes your brow, and kisses your no-doubt-drenched forehead. “No, thank YOU. I can’t believe it; it’s finally happened. We have another baby! And I got to be here,” he seems to radiate relief and joy but also disbelieving, almost overwhelmed.

“Here you go, Mrs Bridgerton,” one of the midwives fluffs your supporting pillows as the other hands you your precious bundle of joy.

You look down and see your own face looking back at you. It’s almost disconcerting—your nose, your eyes, your complexion, your hair colour.

“Oh my god, she is so beautiful,” Benedict gasps, peering over.

“She is me,” you utter, still shocked. “Benedict, this is so strange,” you whisper. “I’ve only ever had babies that look like you….”

He laughs heartily at your unintentionally hilarious line. The idea you could have a child that didn’t look exactly like him is somehow an impossibility in your mind. He wraps his arm tight around your shoulders, pulling you and your daughter into an embrace and kissing your sweaty temple.

“Well, I am very happy our daughter looks like you, not me, a man,” he chuckles, and you giggle. “But darling, she is so perfect, thank you,” his voice wavering with emotion. You see in his eyes how this is so raw for him.

“Darling, you take her?” you offer, softly twisting towards him.

“Really?” His voice is full of wonderment.

“Yes, I have an afterbirth to deal with.”

“What is that?” he frowns.

“You don’t want to know,” you answer quickly. “Just take our baby daughter and spend some time with her.”

He reaches over and, as if she is the most fragile thing, takes her from your arms and cradles her expertly. As if he was born to do so.

“Hello, my darling, darling girl,” he whispers, his voice laden with emotion. “I’m your daddy, and I love you so much,” his voice cracks. You watch him place a featherlight kiss on her forehead as she twitches slightly.

“Mr Bridgerton, perhaps you could take a seat over here while we assist your wife?” the midwife offers, and he stands up and follows without taking his eyes off his daughter.

“What a wonderful husband you have,” the woman sighs as she returns to your side. “I’ve never seen one stay for the delivery, and I’ve delivered more babies than I’ve had hot dinners,” she jests lightly.

“He could not be there for our firstborn,” you explain, unsure why you are telling her this but doing so without detail. “He made a vow that he would be here for all the others.” As you speak, you watch him run a finger gently over the baby’s cheek mouthing something to her.

He stays in the room as they complete the birth process with you, but he never looks at anything that is happening. He only has eyes for his daughter. You can see the love radiating from him, and it causes a lump in your throat. So sad he could not do this with James but so pleased he can now.

Once the towels and sheets are removed, and you are tucked back into bed, the cleanup complete, they call Benedict over to you to feed your baby. He hands her over and watches in awe as the baby latches on instantly, and you feel the weird long-forgotten sensation of a baby suckling from your body.

“You are a miracle,” he whispers.

“She is,” you deflect.

“You both are,” he smiles, running a knuckle over her tuft of hair sticking outside the swaddling she is wrapped in.

After the doctors and midwives bid you goodbye, you both just stare down your little daughter as she feeds, heads together.

“We need a name for our little miracle,” you say quietly, watching as she falls asleep peacefully, snuggling against your breast.

“She looks so very much like you; I think we should pick a name from your family,” he suggests.

“Oh, my Scottish maternal grandmother was called Isobel. I always thought that a most beautiful name.”

“Isobel is perfect, my love. Isobel Bridgerton, what a beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he smiles, kissing you both.

“Hello, Isobel,” you whisper to your daughter, and you swear you see the twitch of a smile in her slumber, even though you know that’s not really possible yet.

“So… are you going tell James he was right about having a baby sister, or shall I?” Benedict chuckles.

You giggle quietly. “You know he will be insufferably smug about that. He was so certain at that family Christmas dinner,” you shake your head at the fond memory.

“I could check if he is awake?” Benedict offers.

“Alright, but please hurry back, love.” You squeeze his hand as he stands up, not wanting to be alone just yet, but wanting him to be the one to break the news to James.

“I don’t want to be apart from either of you for more than a few blinks,” he admits to the same sentiment, “but I will to fetch my son.”

You softly kiss your baby's forehead and whisper gentle words, and soon you hear little footsteps running down the corridor.

“James, my love,” you say quietly as he almost skids into the room, “come and meet your sister.”

“Hello, Izzy,” he smiles brightly.

Izzy? Why does that name sound so familiar on his lips? You think to yourself.

You assume Benedict must have told James her name, and you beckon him up as he clambers onto the bed for a closer look.

Benedict follows behind him, and soon, the four of you are snuggled in the bed together. Within a few moments of his initial excitement waning, James falls back asleep leaning on your shoulder, it is late for him, being around 10 pm, and you don’t have the heart to move him.

“Thank you for telling James her name. He already thought of a sweet nickname before he walked in,” you chuckle, watching Benedict pat your son's hair affectionately as he sleeps between you.

“I didn’t,” Benedict frowns, “I assumed you had told him?”

You are momentarily taken aback.

“Oh… I suppose I must have,” you say, mildly puzzled. You don’t recall doing so, but it’s been quite an eventful few hours. Anything is possible.

“I can’t stop looking at her. I can’t believe she’s finally here,” Benedict confesses dotingly, curling around James and resting his head on your shoulder. “It’s like yet another little piece of my heart lives outside my body, and it’s terrifying and beautiful,” he admits quietly with one of his hands holding James.

He tilts his head to look up at you with soft eyes, and you already know that if he asked for another baby tomorrow, you would let him, even as your body aches so hard from this one. Dear god, you are so in love with him, it’s almost frightening.

“I love you, Benedict,” you murmur, and he looks wonder-filled. He is almost always the first to declare his emotions at any given moment.

“I love you too,” he responded instantly, surging up and brushing a delicate kiss on your lips. He shuffles so you are leaning against him, James still slumbering peacefully between you. He somehow manages to wrap all three of you in his wide-armed embrace, and that’s how exhaustion claims you, you holding Isobel in your arms, you and James in his.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

Moments only taglist: @queenofshinigamis @khaleesjj @starslibrary @magical-spit @honeylovemoon @justwant2read8421

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #moments universe

[yowyowyaoi]

Sasori’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Tobi/Obito

Obviously.

You can gloat all you want but the fact of the matter is you’re wrong; NOTHING is eternal. 

But can you keep it up without chakra strings? 🤔

Asleep or awake it’s all the same thing.

Go ahead and tell them. They’ll just think you’re crazy 😜 

I’ve tried but Hidan is insufferable and the only way to truly hurt Kakuzu is in his wallet.

Ok please just look at this tooth I feel like it’s throbbing out of my head 😣

Me and you? Teaming up? What a novel idea … REJECTED.

It’s not ridiculous. When you were human did you never just eat a bag of sugar?? It’s so soothing.

He said no cats or dogs. Not a thing about birds. And besides if Itachi can have 900 crows I can have a parakeet. 😤

From Zetsu

I don’t know why YOU get to keep all the best bodies every single time 😒 Your art isn’t more important as my stomach.

I licked his arm once but my goodness he had such a bitter aftertaste.

Clay and gunpowder. Sometimes aftershave.

It wasn’t me this time. Must have been an animal. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Me either! No Bowel Movement Club 🥳

I imagine it’s only the first blow that truly hurts. After that the body goes into too much shock to register the pain. 

From Nagato

Well I figured that with your expertise in puppet chakra control, my bodies wouldn’t be that much different to you.

Redhead unity ✊🏻

Let’s be real, here; Konan is the one running this thing.

I can if it’s cut into very small pieces. And drink lots of water afterwards.

At least yours wasn’t a goddamned pervert.

Clearly I can’t stop these things. All I can do is strongly advise you three use protection with them. Our organization is not equipped to care for babies.

I’ve never really had time to properly train it. I’ve never even heard that much about it before. Maybe Itachi will know.

Yes but I firmly believe we choose our families. And I chose this one. Even Hidan.

From Konan

No, thank you. I’ve learned to appreciate my flaws and live with them.

Okay once again, PLEASE read that book I got you on how to talk to women. For the love of God. 🤦‍♀️

Actually most of them make me sneeze; that’s why I started making paper ones lol 

Of course I can teach you. Why do you want to learn? So you can dance with a certain someone 😏

Yeah, preferably one that’ll give me a pick-up in the mornings.

If you use your chakra strings to make him trip down the stairs I will love you for forever.

I know you don’t eat but you should come for the conversations.

I know he’s been using mine the bottle was full 3 days ago and now it’s almost empty 😡

From Kisame

Itachi and I are traveling past there on our next mission. If you write down what herbs you need I’d be happy to pick them up for you on our way back.

I’m sorry; if I’d known you wanted to use the body I wouldn’t have chewed off the hands 😣

Well I suppose both have caffeine but to me, tea is more calming.

I understand but if it happens again, tell him I won’t be looking the other way. 

I don’t know. If he’s not sleepwalking he’s up for days at a time. I’m worn out trying to keep up 🫠

Please join us; Monopoly seems like it’d be your game.

I stayed until they wanted to do karaoke. Then I snuck out the back door.

That’s more Zetsu’s thing. I only do it if I’m really hungry.

Ah but, if you’re truly going to live forever, why not have some fun with life?

Yes I’ve noticed. Everyone has. But I’m fairly certain Deidara sees nobody but YOU in that way.

From Itachi

My thanks.

Not so bad today actually 

I would just say “ignore it” but he’ll probably throw a bomb into your face so 🤷🏻‍♂️

Well I was going to paint it yellow so it’d be more cheerful but Kisame thinks it would drive me crazy after a few weeks.

Watch the video I just sent and tell me that’s not Hidan 😂

Kisame said to ask you two. Tell Dei they have bakudan.

They just like to sit on top of them. I promise they aren’t pecking or causing any damage to the wood.

One of the funniest things I ever read. Laughed so hard I had to go to bed early because my head was pounding so hard after. But don’t tell Hidan, he’d kill me.

I’m not sure. But after I die you’re free to take one of my eyes and put it into your puppet to see.

From Hidan

No really DO you have one? 🤔

Wtf are you gonna do tho like won’t you catch on fire in the sun?!

He’s my best friend and I love him in a not gay way. So it IS my business asshole.

Thanks puppet dick, I’ll make Kakuzu pay you later. He prob won’t but 🤷🏼‍♂️

No fuck that, that cake was MINE they’re just being little bitches about it 

Damn could you be any gayer for him?

Wait, CAN you fly??

Stop being stingy puppet fuck just give me an arm that shoots fire it’ll be an early birthday present pleeeeease 

Idc get this thing out of my room it’s creeping me tf out 😒

From Kakuzu

I’ve tried but the only way I could see it legitimately working is if I sewed his mouth shut.

Oh of course. I’m always happy to spend an evening surrounded by culture.

That would be ideal but you know how sensitive Leader is about his appearance.

Yes but it’s the most expensive there. You’d be better off disguising yourself and getting it from your old village.

Honestly, at 91? I’m surprised it hasn’t turned to dust yet.

Perhaps Kisame would join us. Give us an evening away from the wives.

I know but what else could we do? He refuses to accept treatment. The only way we could “help” is slipping it into his tea.

Page 34. I wrote notes along the side of the diagram.

I would rip out all of my hearts before I let anyone, including you, spend money on something like that.

From Deidara

No but I’m pretty sure you enjoy making me beg.

Wasn’t me. And you can’t prove otherwise 😈

Your lack of appreciation for my art is truly the most horrible thing about you 😒

Well tough shit it’s MY turn to choose and that’s what we’re doing

Well yeah it’s awkward but I don’t want you worrying. I’m *yours*. I’ve made that clear.

Idc I’ll wear it every single day 😭

If Itachi or Kisame asks, me and Hidan were with you from 12-5 yesterday. Okay?

Keep sending pics like that and you’re gonna end me 🥵

Oh come on pleeeease? I’ll feed it and walk it and everything!

My bed or yours? 

Did you make it yourself?? Awww thank you Sasori 🥰

It’s not the only thing that’s tight ~ 😏

A real boyfriend wouldn’t question it he’d just bring a shoe and come kill it !

Hey at least I found BOTH arms this time!

Geez that sounds so boring. Can’t he send Kakuzu and Hidan instead?!

You know I hate that word … but yes, forever. And ever and ever and ever. 💛

#the akatsuki #texting #text message #sasori #sasodei #sasori x deidara #deidara #kakuzu #hidan #itachi uchiha #tobi #obito uchiha #nagato #konan #kisame hoshigaki #zetsu #Akatsuki Daily Texts Series

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 92: Get Back Home

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: language, blood and gore, violence ❧ Word Count: 6.4k

❧ In This Chapter: There's a new addition to the family, and a deal is made to get your people back to where they belong. Everything is just a little too good to be true.

❧ A/N: Baby Dixon #2 is here... Daryl is also here lol. This chapter is interesting because we get to see two sides of Daryl—the intimidating, scary, aggressive side, and the sweet, gentle, caring side. I think Daryl is actually more at home in the latter side, but when he needs to fight for his family, he goes into that scary mode. And like... it's hot. It's so hot. But anyway, that's not what this chapter is about. This chapter is about the newest addition to the family, and obviously also the plot of the show, of course.

Pain seemed to erase your memory, as whatever happened in that hospital room was a complete blur. You woke up in the same room, but now it was shrouded in darkness, except for a dimly lit panel of light above your bed. 

Everything looked staticky until you blinked your eyes completely open, seeing now that you were alone, except for a pale blue teddy bear with the words, “It’s a Boy!” stitched onto its belly sitting at the foot of your bed. 

In a small burst of panic, you kicked the stuffed animal to the floor, sitting up to feel your stomach—it was still a bump, but smaller, and you felt empty, despite having very vague memories of the whole ordeal. All you felt now was pain, still lingering from the pushing and the intense contractions. More potent than that, though, was your worry.

You worried for the baby, wondering where he was, if he was all right, and you worried for your other baby, Robin. The last thing you really remembered clearly was your hand letting go of hers, and a fresh wave of panic overcame you. 

You wanted to rise to your feet and go find her and the new baby, but your legs didn’t seem to want to work, and you were hooked to an IV, anyway.

You looked to the slightly ajar door leading to the hallway, and called out hoarsely, “Nurse?”

You only heard a faint voice from outside, but it was familiar. It was Ezekiel, the other last person you vaguely remembered (frantically) talking to. “She’s awake,” he said. “Come on.”

He pushed the door open further, slowly peeking in, with Robin’s hand in his. 

You huffed a deep sigh of relief when you saw her small, smiling face behind Ezekiel. She was safe, so you smiled, too, despite the pain.

“Oh, thank God,” you said. 

Robin let go of Ezekiel’s hand to slowly, but eagerly, make her way towards you. She gently wrapped her arms around you, careful not to hurt you or knock anything loose. 

You squeezed her tight, rocking her back and forth in your arms as you kissed her cheek. She felt so soft and small, just like a little baby herself. Having her in your arms made everything feel right again, just for a moment.

“I was so worried,” you said. “I don’t know what happened. I just… let go. I’m sorry.”

Robin pulled away and smiled softly. “It’s okay, Mommy. Uncle Ezekiel found me.”

You raised your eyes to meet his gaze, and to match his friendly smile. “She was hiding in the bakery,” he said. “Behind the counter. Took me a while to find her. She’s got serious hiding skills.”

You laughed through your happy tears, amused by the thought of Robin finding a hiding spot in the place with the most sweets. The child had a sweet tooth like no other.

“Good girl,” you said, brushing her soft, wavy hair back. Indeed, you were proud of her, doing exactly what you or Daryl would’ve told her to do in that situation. 

Your face turned serious now, as the next thought overwhelmed you. There had been a baby in your belly, and now there wasn’t.

“The baby?” you asked, feeling your heart rate increase. “Is the baby all right?”

Ezekiel scared you for a moment when he remained silent, but his wide grin told another story. “He’s perfect,” he said. “He’s in the nursery. You were out of it when he came out. He’s just fine, though. Very… vocal.”

“Vocal?”

“He cries a lot,” explained Robin. “I think he just wants you.”

“Aw,” you laughed, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Well… can I see him?”

Ezekiel nodded with a smile. “I’ll ask the nurse to bring him in.”

Your excitement to see the new baby far outweighed whatever pain and fear was in your heart. You only wished Daryl was here, but something in your bones told you he was all right. You just knew.

The nurse wheeled in a hospital bassinet just minutes later, and Robin held your hand in excitement, exchanging wide grins with you as the nurse picked up the bundle in her arms to gently hand it to you.

“He’s sleeping,” she said, though all you paid attention to was his face, peaceful and sweet. “Everything’s normal. He’s just a little premature, but only by a week. Nothing to worry about. I think he was just excited to come out.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “He’s so beautiful… Look, sweetheart. This is your little brother.”

Robin leaned forward to get a better look at the infant. She smiled at him, tilting her head as she followed the curves of his face, and paid attention to every detail, including the tiny eyelashes and the sparse tufts of fuzzy, light brown hair, not dissimilar from the color of hers. 

His body began to wiggle between the tight wrap of his blanket, and soon his eyes began to blink open. His eyes were somewhere between slate grey and blue, and they were wide, yet slightly downturned and deep set. His small pink lips spread ever so slightly when his pupils focused on you, and his feet kicked more restlessly now, as if he knew exactly who you were. In his cheeks, you already spotted the cutest little dimples on either side of his mouth. As you supported his head in your hand, the other hand cradling his bottom, you held him close, gently rocking him in your arms. 

You weren’t sure if your eyesight was blurred by your tears, or by how much you were smiling from ear to ear, but for a few moments, you couldn’t even see him, though you knew he was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. 

His eyes fixated on you curiously, but soon his eyes gazed towards Robin, who took the opportunity to wave to him, saying, “Hi,” in her meek little voice. 

You sniffled back your tears, trying to compose yourself before you spoke to him for the first time, but you just couldn’t help it. You exploded into a small burst of tears, startling the newborn for a moment, though you held him closer, assuring him everything was all right. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” you said. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe.”

The child seemed to be soothed then, and his eyes closed softly once more as he let out a big, wide yawn. “Awww,” cooed Robin. “He’s so cute.”

“I know,” you giggled through your tears. “He’s darling, just like you.”

You had to admit, you always knew you and Daryl would make the cutest babies, and you weren’t wrong. Robin and this baby were proof of that. 

Robin looked to you eagerly, catching your attention with her bold, curious gaze. “We still don’t have a name for him,” she said. “He’s not really going to be Daryl Jr., right?”

Of course, as much as you wanted to name him after your hero, you knew Daryl hated it. Still, you had never decided on a name for him. You were hoping that, now that he had arrived, you’d come up with a name with Daryl, but Daryl wasn’t here. You knew that if he was here, he’d be right by your side, holding your hand and softly demanding to hold this baby (and to never let him go—he had a hard time letting go of Robin. Hell, he had a hard time letting go of Judith, too). 

“No,” you answered. “He doesn’t look like a Daryl… I’m not quite sure what he looks like. I… I really thought…”

You shook your head as you tried to catch yourself. If you kept going, you were sure you’d burst out into an even more intense cry. Not a happy one. Daryl wasn’t here, and on top of the fact that you were concerned about him, you couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness without him. Your family wasn’t complete, and you knew that Daryl wanted nothing more than to be right next to you when you delivered the baby, and for Daryl not to see his own son’s first moments… It hurt your heart for him. Not only that, but you needed him here. You were hurting, every inch of your body, and it wasn’t just from the labor—it was from the heartache of missing him in such a scary moment. When you fell to your knees in that crowd, being trampled over by that stampede, you felt so alone, and from that point on, you were vulnerable, helpless. It was a horrible feeling. He made you strong in situations like that. He always did. 

And though you barely remembered giving birth, if he’d been there, he would’ve given you strength then, too. At least Robin was here, and at least the baby was here. 

“Thought what?” asked Robin.

You shook your head, dismissing the tears once again. “Well, I just thought your daddy would be here. I know he’d be here if he could, but… I wanted him to help me choose a name once the baby was here.” You turned back to look down at the infant, whose gaze never left your face. “You need a name, don’t you, little boy?”

“Daddy said we could name him anything we want.”

“I know,” you sighed. “Just… I know he wouldn’t miss this.”

Robin shrugged. “He’ll be back,” she said. “And we should have a name picked out when he comes back.”

“Oh?” you laughed. “And what name should we bestow upon this little angel?”

Little did you know that Robin had a name picked out for him.

It came to her in the hospital waiting room, where she sat with King Ezekiel, waiting for you to awaken. It had occurred to you that her little brother needed a noble name. All the grown up men in her life had names that made them sound like heroes—Ezekiel, Aaron, even Daryl had a noble ring to it. 

So she asked the nurse to borrow a pad and pen, and scrawled out a list of new names she thought would suit a heroic boy. 

She went through every name multiple times, each time scratching out one she thought didn’t fit. She knew that you had an idea for the middle name—Owen, after your father—so it needed to blend well with that.

And finally, she landed on one.

She tore the piece of paper from the notepad and folded it into the pocket of her jeans. “Here,” she said, procuring it to hold the folded paper out to you. “That’s my favorite.”

You eagerly opened the paper with one hand, the other cradling the baby as he slowly fell back to sleep in your arms. Your eyes scanned all over the scribbled words until you found the one name not scratched out. 

A wide smile stretched across your face. “Where did you come up with this, sweet pea?”

She shrugged bashfully. “Well, d’ya remember that movie we watched last week?”

You furrowed your brow as you struggled to recall. So much had happened since then, and your brain was still getting used to processing movies again since moving to the Commonwealth.

“Oh, The Princess Bride?” 

She nodded with a smile. The fantastical film from the 1980s told the story of a princess and the farmhand who rescues her. It suited Robin’s infatuation with fairytales and romance, which she no doubt inherited from you.

“Westley?” you asked, studying the name in Robin’s childlike handwriting. “After the man in the movie?”

“Mhm… It’s a hero’s name.”

“Mm, like Robin?”

Her blue eyes sparkled like two little sapphires when you mentioned that. She hadn’t even considered that her name, too, was the name of a hero. “Oh, yeah! Robin and Westley. What d’ya think?”

“And Owen for a middle name,” you said. “Westley Owen Dixon?”

“Wes for short,” suggested Robin. “That’s perfect, Mommy. I wanna call him Wes.”

As you considered it, you studied the infant boy’s face, peaceful as he slept. Westley was nice. It wasn’t a name you had thought of before, but it had the benefit of being a boy’s name, yet still soft and pretty. Besides, you had never met anyone named that before, so it was a little unique. Why not?

“Okay,” you sighed. “Baby Westley… Do you think Daddy will like it?”

“Yes,” Robin stated confidently. “And if he doesn’t, we can change it, right?”

“Mhm.”

The night carried on quietly, though only hours ago, the streets were flooded with civil unrest. From what you gathered, a swarm of walkers had gathered outside the walls, and the Commonwealth Army began to throw canisters of tear gas into the crowds as a means of getting them to disperse when they refused to go home. 

With the baby cradled in your arms, and Robin snuggled against you on the tiny hospital bed, you began to almost fall asleep, though something wouldn’t let you. Of course, you knew what it was—it was your usual worry for your husband, and though you knew there was no way the hospital would let you out in the morning, you fully intended to get information about the status of him, your brother, and the rest of their group. 

At this point, not even Daryl knew where he was. 

All he knew was that he was standing underground, in a sewer that smelled of rotten flesh, holding a knife to Lance Hornsby’s neck, with twenty or so Commonwealth soldiers pointing their guns directly at him.

This was not too uncommon of a situation lately. He found that he was quite often holding someone at knifepoint or gunpoint, and he was no stranger to being outnumbered. Hornsby and his army had been chasing Daryl, Aaron, Maggie, Gabriel, and Negan and his wife, Annie, for days. Maybe two, maybe three, but it was enough to nearly throw Daryl over the edge of doing something irrational.

But situations like this were tricky, of course. For one thing, there was the obvious predicament of several guns pointed in Daryl’s direction, and if he slit this man’s throat, an urge he was having trouble holding back, he’d surely end up with more holes in him than a slice of Swiss cheese. 

How much was he willing to risk just to kill this pathetic man? Would he risk his life? Well, he was already risking his life. When was he not risking his life?

“Put the knife down!” one of the soldiers called out. 

“Do it, or we will shoot!” said another. 

“Let him go! Now!”

Daryl’s eyes shifted around the dark cavern, briefly meeting the gazes of his group. They all held their own guns at the armored troopers, but there were simply too many of them. If he killed Lance, he’d kill his family, too. All that mattered now was getting back home, away from the corruption and authoritarian rule of the Commonwealth. That couldn’t happen if he died right here. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to think much longer about the consequences of his actions. “Everyone stand down!” Mercer’s voice boomed and echoed from beyond the crowd. The troopers lowered their weapons and separated to let the intimidating man march through. He was followed by three familiar faces—Commonwealth governor Pamela Milton, Carol, and Negan. 

With their weapons lowered, Daryl’s impulsion returned to him. With tight lips and even tighter grip, he swiftly turned Hornsby around to push him forward, till his body hit some industrial object that forced him to lean backwards, pinned between the knife still at his throat and the wall of the sewer.

Mercer and the others came forward, yet he never kept his eyes off the sniveling man before him. He never particularly liked Hornsby. Even the day he first saw the man leading an army into Alexandria, wearing a suit and a perfectly manicured hairdo, he distrusted him. His hatred for him grew when he saw his true colors. Hornsby’s intention was to take Hilltop and the other communities by force now, and the past few days had proven that. 

Daryl had now held a gun to him, shot him in the arm, and nearly drove a car into him. Over the years, Daryl liked to think that he had become less angry, that he wasn’t as impulsive or prone to rash decisions fueled by irrational emotions. But he had a family now, and the older he got, the more important that became to him. Anyone who threatened that had a deathwish, and he wasn’t opposed to harkening back to that anger if need be.

“You heard him,” said Milton. “Lower your weapon.” 

Daryl remained silent, holding fast with the knife still at Hornsby’s throat. It would take more than that.

“This is not just about you,” she continued. “I need him alive.”

Hornsby’s lip quivered slightly, almost in the curve of a smile.

“Dixon,” said Mercer, stepping forward slowly. “Not here. Not like this.”

“You choosin’ this piece of shit?” retorted Daryl. 

“If I was, you’d already be down.”

“Do what you fuckin’ gotta do,” he replied. 

There was that Dixon impulsivity. He had no idea what he was going to do next, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to involve letting this asshole go scot-free. He at least needed one good injury for the shit he put them through.

But just before he could do anything rash, Carol stepped forward, speaking his name. 

Carol, the meddler. She must’ve been responsible for finding them, for bringing Mercer here. Maybe it was her way of helping them, but at the moment, Daryl was too pissed to care about intentions.

He looked her way with a sharp glare. “What’ve you done?”

“Made a deal for us,” she said. 

The tension was suffocating, oppressive. Silence settled in uncomfortably, until Daryl released his knife from the man’s throat. 

He stepped back momentarily, never letting his eyes leave Hornsby, whose relief was like poison to Daryl. The man deserved to suffer for the corruption he was responsible for, and for the lives and freedom lost in the path of his desire for power and status. Worst of all, he was going to take Alexandria.

Alexandria was home, home was family, family was you, Robin, and the baby he thought was still inside you. He’d never stop fighting for that. That was the only thing in this world worth fighting for, and after everything you all had lost to have that, there was no doubt in his mind—anyone who threatened to destroy what he built, what he loved, was a dead man walking. 

Hornsby was a dead man walking.

Not a moment passed before Daryl pinned Hornsby’s hand to the surface of the wall he leaned against. There was no hesitation then. Daryl’s senses were at once sharpened and blurred. He couldn’t hear past the blood in his ears, rushing to his head as his eyes narrowed with the accuracy of a hunter onto Hornsby’s flattened palm, splayed open and just begging for permanent nerve damage.

A squelch echoed in the sewer as blood pooled and splashed from the point where the knife’s serrated blade had been embedded into his hand. Hornsby’s agonizing screams were but whispers to Daryl, who plunged the knife deeper. He wanted to see more blood spill from him, as much as possible without twisting the blade until it tore the tendons beyond repair. 

When he was satisfied with the position of the knife, he left it in, pulling away to watch the horrific pain overtake Hornsby’s face as he screamed and screamed and screamed. Music to Daryl's ears, now that he could hear it. 

He leaned forward to quickly, yet still mercilessly, yank the blade from the flesh, eliciting another scream and another splash of blood to emit from Hornsby. 

Slowly walking up to Milton, he had only a few words to say to her: “Don’t worry. He’ll live.” 

In what seemed like a world away, morning daylight poured in through the blinds of the hospital room, and you sat up against your pillow, breastfeeding the baby. He’d cried quite a bit that night, and you wondered if he, too, felt the absence of his father, but perhaps he was just a very loud baby.

“Little boy blue, come blow your horn. The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn. Where is the boy who looks after the sheep? He’s under the haystack, fast asleep…”

Robin sat at the edge of the bed, watching you quietly sing lullabies to the baby as he began to fall asleep, still suckling. You laughed at his sleepiness, though you hoped he didn’t develop a habit of falling asleep in the middle of eating as he grew up. “Did you sing me lullabies when I was a baby?” she asked.

“Of course,” you said quietly. “‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,’ ‘Rock-a-Bye Baby’… All of them.” You looked back down to see that Westley had fallen completely asleep. “He’s so silly,” you said. “Look, he fell asleep.”

Robin jumped up to eagerly look at the baby as you buttoned up your delivery gown. It was so lovely to see that sparkle in her eyes. She was infatuated with her newborn brother, already secretly planning all the fun things they would do together when he learned to walk. 

Just as you wrapped the sleeping baby tighter in his light blue fleece blanket, you heard Ezekiel’s voice heighten from outside the room, and the voices of doctors and nurses getting closer, saying something about “clearance” and “proof” and “security.”

And amidst the cacophony of voices, you heard a familiar one above the rest, gruff and loud with impatience. 

“I need to see my wife,” the disembodied voice said, anger rising as it argued with the other voices in the hallway. 

“Daryl, just calm down,” Ezekiel’s voice replied. “She’s all—”

The door was shoved open, with a disheveled Daryl standing dumbfounded in the threshold. His eyes were wider than you’d seen them in a long time, and his skin turned a bit pale, much lighter than his usually rather tan complexion. 

Your heart stopped, you swore it did. Robin was standing up, preparing to greet her father with a hug, when Westley awoke with a thunderous cry. Well, thunderous for an infant. “Shhh,” you said, gently rocking him. “It’s okay.”

His legs still felt numb as he bent down to receive Robin’s hug, but his eyes were glued to the blue bundle in your arms, from which two little arms were waving as cries continued to emanate from it. Him, actually. The baby that was now more real than ever. 

He’d missed it. Dizziness set in, and soon he almost trampled over Robin, but he caught himself, gripping tighter to the child before kissing her cheek. He pulled away, holding her face in his hands. She looked tired, like she’d been through too much for a child her age. Well, she had. And yet, she still smiled.

“You all right, peanut?” he asked seriously, subconsciously searching her face for any injuries. He’d heard that things had gotten messy last night, with civil unrest in the streets and tear gas dropped on citizens. Other than that, he’d just got here with the rest of the group, and all he knew was that a deal had been made. 

“Fine,” she replied simply, then turned to gesture towards the hospital bed, where you’d finally calmed down Westley. “Look. He’s here.”

Daryl swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears. He wasn’t sure if they were tears of joy, or tears of guilt, but they were threatening to break loose any second. “I know,” he said, rising to his feet. He held Robin’s shoulders as he moved forward with her, moving softly and slowly as possible.

His eyes flashed between you and the bundle, whose face he couldn’t yet see. What he did see, though, was your smile, and tears flooding your eyes. “I didn’t mean it,” you said, catching him off guard. 

His brows furrowed in response. “Didn’t mean what?”

“Didn’t mean to have a baby while you were away.”

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss your forehead, one hand on your cheek, guiding your lips to his for a soft kiss. “Not like you could help it, crazy woman.”

His eyes turned slowly to face the child, who looked around the room curiously, with his lips agape and arms moving in small circles. Daryl let out a chuckle, amused by the baby’s expression. He looked so confused, so innocent. Completely unaware of everything. He envied him.

Tears were cascading down his cheek, so much that you felt one land on your wrist. When Daryl cried, you cried, too. “Isn’t he perfect?” you asked through tears. “And look, he already has a little bit of hair.”

You peeled back his blue beanie to reveal that small patch of caramel colored baby hairs upon his head. 

He reached out his hand to cradle the baby’s head, and he had still never forgotten that feeling of doing the same with Robin when she was born. It was pride, even though the baby hadn’t done anything yet. Just the baby’s presence was something to be proud of. The fact that you had made something so beautiful together, that was the ultimate achievement.

“He’s beautiful,” he said with a sniffle. “H-he got all the fingers and toes?”

You laughed through your tears. “Ten fingers, ten toes.”

“Good.”

He couldn’t muster up another word, not unless he wanted to make a scene with how much he wanted to sob. Missing his child’s birth, what kind of father does that? 

“M’sorry,” he said, still looking at his baby. He turned to face you again, and you looked even more tired than Robin. You looked like everything had been drained from you, and yet, like Robin, you smiled. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and sniffled. “You did nothing wrong.” 

“Nah, I shoulda been here, knowin’ how far along you were.”

“It wasn’t like you had a choice, hon. Besides, he wasn’t due for another week.” You looked back down at the little troublemaker, whose blue eyes blinked adorably as his little lips pursed and quivered. “You were just so excited to come out, huh, sweet boy? Yes you were.” 

Your baby voice was always so amusing to Daryl, but he mostly found it incredibly endearing. “So, he got a name? And don’t ya say Daryl Jr.”

You laughed and shook your head. “No… Westley. Westley Owen.”

He smiled. It sounded perfect. “Where’d that come from?”

“Me,” piped Robin, now sitting on the edge of the bed. “After Westley from Princess Bride. Wes for short. Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s nice. Anythin’ but Daryl.”

Not long after Daryl arrived, Aaron arrived, too, smitten with his new nephew. He took Robin to the hospital cafeteria for breakfast, leaving you alone with Daryl, who wasted no time in taking the baby from you so he could hold him for the first time. 

He sat beside you, as close as he could get the chair to your bed, gently rocking Westley in his arms. Daryl was always so precious with babies. Of course, he was good with children of all ages, but babies? He loved them a lot more than he cared to admit, lest his tough exterior crumble under their undeniable cuteness. 

“You’re so cute with him,” you said with a laugh, leaning back against your pillow. “I can’t wait until he’s big enough to wear those little cowboy boots Judith picked out for him. And when we get back to Alexandria, I want to paint his room yellow. Not, like, caution yellow, but a nice soft, pastel color. I don’t know, he just looks like a boy who likes yellow.”

Daryl was silent for a moment, still stuck on the words “back to Alexandria.” 

It should’ve been good news. The deal Carol had made seemingly guaranteed him and his family and everyone else safe passage back to Alexandria, just as long as Lance Hornsby was alive, and he was. He was imprisoned now, taking the fall for Sebastian Milton’s crimes. Still, explaining that all to you was going to be a whirlwind, especially since your family was going to have to leave the Commonwealth as soon as possible. After all, that was the deal. 

“What?” you asked. “You don’t like yellow?”

“Nah, yellow’s fine.” He looked up to smile at you, but it was a forced smile. You knew that. You knew every kind of smile Daryl’s facial muscles were capable of making. 

“You going to tell me what happened out there yet?”

It hadn’t escaped you that Daryl was hesitating to inform you of the misadventures he’d had. Perhaps he was also a little scared to tell you that he had technically lost his job, but then again, that didn’t really matter, since you were all going to have to leave soon anyway.

He leaned back in his chair, keeping Westley bundled up and close to his chest as he cooed with Daryl’s movements. “Hornsby was tryin’ to take Hilltop by force,” he said, quietly enough not to disturb the baby’s sensitive ears. “We fought back… Helped Maggie. I, uh… I think I lost my job.”

“Really?” you asked, though you couldn’t say you were surprised. From what Negan had told you, you were sort of expecting that Daryl would no longer serve on the Commonwealth Army. 

“Sorry,” he said. “But the thing is, we’re goin’ back home anyway.”

You perked up, looking at him wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. “No way,” you said. “Soon?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Carol made a deal for us. We gave Hornsby to them alive, so we get to go back home. Well, we gotta go back home. Don’t think they want us here no more.”

“That’s great,” you said, though your excitement began to wear thin when you really thought about it. “It sounds too good to be true.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

Just a few hours had passed, and you were already up, despite Daryl’s pleas for you to stay at the hospital. Word had spread that Lydia was outside the walls, and you weren’t about to miss an opportunity to see her, and to show her Westley.

You met her at the warehouse where Aaron and Jerry were preparing a wagon, intending to take supplies back to the other communities. Daryl was packing a few duffel bags full of weapons to be delivered, intending to lighten the load for when your family would travel back. With baby Westley in your arms, you showed Lydia the little boy, who wrapped his tiny hand around her finger. 

“Aw,” she said. “He’s so cute.”

“Mm, he is.”

Lydia furrowed her brows as she looked you up and down. “Are you okay? Didn’t you just give birth last night?”

You huffed. “You and Daryl… I’m fine, Lydia. I wanted to see you. Besides, we’re going to leave soon, too. Have to get ready. What about you? Been on the road a while, are you sure you don’t want to stay a few nights?”

She shook her head and smiled. She seemed happier than usual, more… giddy. It was certainly an interesting side to Lydia you hadn’t really seen much of. Happiness suited her well, and you hoped whatever was making her so happy would last a long time. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was her, after everything she had been through.

“What’s a few more weeks?” she asked with a gingerly shrug. 

Westley let out a few cries, to which you shushed him and bounced him gently in your arms, which seemed to work. 

Meanwhile, Elijah, who had accompanied Lydia on her journey to the Commonwealth, came up behind her, touching her shoulder as he spoke. That gesture did not go unnoticed by you. “Bag’s all set,” he said. “I’ll grab us some water, okay?”

He, too, looked much happier than you’d seen him. 

“All right, thanks,” replied Lydia, who held her hands together in front of her, rubbing her palms together as she looked over her shoulder to watch him return to the wagon. 

She finally turned back to you, an adorable redness spread across her round cheeks. The romantic in you couldn’t help but say something, and after all, Lydia was like a daughter to you, so you were interested. “Oh, now I see,” you said. 

“See what?”

“Well,” you sighed, “I happen to know that long journeys are often much easier to stomach when there’s a nice, cute boy around, especially if he looks at you that way.” She giggled girlishly under her breath as she lowered her head and pinned a strand of long brown hair behind her ear. The fact that she didn’t deny it now must’ve meant that it was true. “So, I was right? There’s something there?”

“Yeah,” she said shyly. “There’s something.” You grinned wide and shifted your shoulders excitedly, disturbing Westley slightly. Lydia shook her head. “Don’t make a big thing out of it.”

“I won’t,” you said. “It’s just… very cute, that’s all. Romance isn’t dead.”

She shrugged with a small smile, hardly able to contain herself. Young love. It was so sweet to see. “So when will I see you again?”

You sighed and unwrapped one arm from around the baby to bring Lydia in for a hug. Curse your sentimentality—you were already crying a little, and they hadn’t even left yet. “Oh, soon, I’m sure.”

Lydia pulled away to tap lightly on Westley’s button nose. “Now there’s this one. Is there still room at the Dixon house for me?”

“Of course. You’re…” Our daughter. You shook your head and wiped your tears with your jacket sleeve. “You’re always welcome. You know that.”

“I know.” 

You sniffled once more, then turned to point towards Daryl, who was keeping an ever diligent eye on you. “You better say bye to Daryl.”

She turned to meet him, still with tears in her eyes as she moved to hug him. “You okay?” he asked, always so concerned about those he loved.

“Yeah, yeah I think I am.”

It was a sweet sight, seeing Daryl tug his hands out from his jean pockets to hug Lydia. At one point, he didn’t trust her at all, and now, he loved her just as much as you did. She was one of you, and she was family.

When he felt your eyes on him, he looked at you over her shoulder, with that characteristic softness in his eyes. “I never, uh, I never thanked you for savin’ her.” She turned to look your way, and you looked back, confused. 

Saving me?

It felt like ages ago now, how Lydia had helped you escape from the Hilltop as it fell under the siege of the Whisperers. Only Daryl would remember something like that, how important it was to him. How important you were to him. 

“I never thanked you for saving me,” she replied to him, eliciting a sweet half smile from him. “We don’t have to, we just do it.”

Lydia might not have been a Dixon by blood, but, like you, she was one at heart.

“Yeah,” he agreed, then opened his arms to hug her again. You could tell he was worried about her, and maybe a little worried about the boy he still didn’t know too well. His fatherly instinct towards her was very cute to you, you had to admit. “Be safe out there, all right?”

“You too,” she said. 

Daryl watched her climb into the wagon with Elijah, as you came over to hand him Westley, who was making your arms tired. All seven pounds and seven ounces of him. He wailed just a little, but Daryl shushed him, and it seemed to help. Westley was already so much louder than Robin ever was, which was certainly interesting. 

In the distance, Aaron called out to you, calling you over to say goodbye to you just after he’d hugged Gracie.

You moved slowly, not trying to exert yourself, until you found his arms and hugged him tight. “Stay safe,” you said. “I’ll look after Gracie.”

“Four kids and a baby,” he huffed over your shoulder. “That’s a lot, sis.”

“And Dog,” you replied. “Don’t forget Dog.”

Aaron kissed your cheek as you kissed his, and you already felt yourself about to cry again. It had been months since you were separated from him, and though you wouldn’t be separated for long, it was scary to think of something happening to him on the road, especially with the hostility from the Commonwealth that was brewing. 

He looked equally worried about you, though. 

“Hey, I’ll be fine,” you said. “Daryl’s here. It’s not just me taking care of the kids by myself, you know.”

“It’s not just that,” he replied. “It’s… everything. Something still isn’t right about this compromise. Seems too good to be true, after everything that’s happened.”

Though you agreed, you shook your head and tried to will away his concerns. “Let’s just… take the good news, okay? They’re letting us go without any consequences. That’s good. Now we just need to get back home.”

Get back home were the three most pleasant sounding words right now, especially with the situation of the Commonwealth government seemingly worsening. It was no longer safe for any of you, and if there was a chance to get out without facing punishment for rebelling, then that was a chance you had to take.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Well, I should go now. Get started early so we’re not traveling by night for too long.” 

You nodded just before giving him one last big, tight hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Oh, and keep Lydia safe, please.”

You couldn’t help it. She was almost an adult now, but you’d always see her as a child, one you held very close to your heart. 

“I will. Daryl already asked me to.”

That was surprising. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Something about… ‘keeping an eye on that boy.’”

Folding your arms over your chest, you let out a huff. “He just doesn’t want her to get hurt. I don’t either… Yeah, maybe keep an eye on him, too. Just in case.” Though you were mostly joking, you couldn’t help but also be slightly paranoid, knowing the kinds of things men could and would do in this world. “Good luck.”

Aaron shook his head. “Good luck to you,” he said. “You’ll need it.”

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

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If you seen your name is on the taglist but you didn’t get tagged, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, sorry!

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus #the beginning series #theteasetwrites series #theteasetwrites fanfiction

[remusslove]

hello! So I have a weird request... could you possibly do a cg pansy and little reader where reader knows smth bad happened and pansy is injured (and she tries to comfort reader while being in pain) ik this makes no sense lol...

Mommy’s okay~ Pansy Parkinson

Includes age regression, cg!pansy, qudditchplayer!pansy, little!reader, and tooth rotting fluff

A/n: I absolutely loved this request and it was not weird at all :) I’ve been wanting to do cg!Pansy for a while as well! I didn’t have any inspiration so thank you for requesting<3

Pansy was playing against Gryffindor while you were taking a nap safely tucked underneath your fluffy blanket. Pansy was racing towards the snitch going as fast as she could.

It was an arms reach away from her grasp. She reached out her arm as long as she could causing the slytherin stands to go wild. “Pansy!” “Pansy!” “Pansy!” The crowd chorused.

“Pansy watch out!”

Was all she heard before falling out of the sky. The crowd let out a gasp and became silent letting a few mumbles and whispers and murmurs. “Give her some space!” “We have to take her to madam pomfrey now!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright Ms.Parkinson, I need you to drink this potion for me.” Madam Pomfrey said handing her a small vial. “It’ll reduce the blood loss from the gash on your knee.” She explained as Pansy swallowed the clear jelly like liquid.

“I suppose I’ll tell your professors that you’ll need a day or two to rest”

“I don’t need rest. I need to see y/n.” Pansy stated. “Mrs. Y/n is fine mrs parkinson. She’d rather have her mommy rest then be in pain.”she dismissed.

Besides, mattheo and Blaise are taking her two you right now so, I’ll give you two some time” madam pomfrey excused herself walking out of the hospital wing.

You slowly walked in with your bunny held tight in your grasp. She cooed at your presence slightly sitting up. “My little love come here” she called you over. You beamed at her words and quickly sat down on the chair closest to her.

“Such a good girl for me baby” she praised you trying to get your eyes off of the few scratches and bruises littered all over her body. You whimpered at the gash on the side of her knee. “Mommy is you chu gonna be okay?” You asked softly.

She smiled warmly at you cupping your chin causing you to look into her eyes. “I’m fine love nothing to worry about” she said pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

With that you rested your head on her stomach still overthinking if your mommy is truly okay. She knew you were still worrying about her. She sighed running her fingers over your hair.

“Your such a cutie worrying about me” she teased. You blushed crimson at her words causing her to chuckle.

#little!reader #little reader #cg!pansy #cg!pansy parkinson #cg Pansy #cg pansy parkinson #little space

[vintagepresley]

I’m going to be completely honest.. There probably won’t be a new chapter of Pretty Baby this weekend. I haven’t started it and I had crazy tooth pain just to find out at the dentist today it was an infection, lol.

But I’ve been working on ‘Are These Yours, Honey?’ So I may have that out this weekend instead.

[shirefantasies]

Soo... how'd the surgery go? Still hurting? My family and I are all resistant to all but like 2 painkillers so my wisdom tooth recovery was wild, I can't imagine what I'd do if I needed any other kind of surgery. Hope you're doin ok!!

Oh shit that’s wild anon I’m so sorry 😭 can you have anesthesia/sedating during procedures at least? My grandma has trouble with it but luckily we aren’t biologically related so I didn’t get that gene 😥 Pain is worse today but not to doctor’s “cut your head off” bad yet 💀😂 the medication they prescribed is luckily working on me. Had some cooled soup today which was a nice change from all the popsicles, applesauce, & pudding! Feeling off, but more energy than I would have thought though since sleep was kinda wacko (woke up every 2 hours or so)! The procedure went well though, the worst part was how nervous I was having to wait at least 30-45 minutes with a catheter thingie in my hand & being super stressed & crying lol. They gave me & hug & a video game though & I apologized for being a neurodivergent baby. The anesthesiologist was SUPER NICE though when he came in & when I got back there he asked me to describe music I like. They said he was also a DJ & had me name a band. I instantly thought of a certain song by that band that seemed good & that was the one he happened to play! Stress & anti-anxiety stuff they gave me that made me laugh a little combined into me getting super touched & emotional about that song, then I immediately fell asleep 😂😂😂

#surgery tw #medical procedures tw #recovery #day 2!!! 😬 #ask #anon #thank you for checking in 🥰

[chihiro142bus]

Today I went dentist because I’ve been having pain on my tooth. I have a baby tooth with no substitute and the dentist said she need to take out 😮‍💨 is next Monday I’m a bit scared!!!! Is so small . Can’t believe I still have a baby tooth at this age lol

[gojos-thot-patrol]

how are you Aiden? i guess it’s a win either way for you you sukuna stan 😭

i’m your sugu angst anon, you can just call me the candy anon since i actually am a gojo hoe more than suguru’s and to tell you am being delusional DELULU IS THE SOLULU HERE!! SAY IT WITH ME! i’m dreading the chapter really but i guess if i’ll see satoru with suguru again i can peacefully accept it

How am I!?!?! Candy, baby, this is a loaded question.

Im...So conflicted lmao. Of course I'm so relieved that Ryomen didn't die, he's my toxic husband and I love him so very dearly. Fun fact: my first smut ever was written about him and I have not been normal since, lol. So during the whole fight I was just dreading his loss. I'm relived he made it out

But Gojo was my first love! This blog is named after him for a reason! The first fic I ever published was about Gojo, and I feel like his character was just...so under utilized man. It felt fitting that when he died my power went out for, I kid you not, 24 hours so I was able to take time and mourn.

I think you're right though. I think the comfort of knowing he can be with Suguru again helps the pain. In life they could never hold eachother, but maybe the can in death. And honestly? Satoru deserves the rest. He's been fighting tooth and nail for so long, I think he deserves to see his friends.

IS WHAT I WOULD SAY IF GOJO WAS DEAD, BUT HES ACTUALLY NOT!!! He's okay guys trust me I would know!!! He's curled up next to me RIGHT NOW eating a snickers and watching Young Frankenstine, our boy just needed a nap

#aggressively stapleing my first blorbo back together #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #the thot speaks #Candy Anon 🍬🍫🍭

[uswnt5]

Here to report my root canal was amazing and I’m pain free!! It was a rough few days before the procedure and my tooth was sensitive to everything including hot, cold, air, swallowing, eating, etc lol. Miserable but I’m back baby.

Lol I’ve never heard anyone describe a root canal as amazing but this is great news! Glad you’re back 👊🏻

[growthpeacelove]

Baby sleeping on me

I started this post a few hours ago when she was laying on me and my shoulder and I was just so happy! I love her so much. Words cannot even begin to describe it! I am laying in bed and it’s 10PM - I’ve been chilling at home and helping with the baby.

Sitting a lot and wearing a sweatsuit - sweat pants and matching top.

My birthday - my real one is the end of this month and boy oh boy I can feel my brain becoming more developed. Maybe I just have better and healthier coping mechanisms? I am always working on it and I’m seeing improved results!

It’s just me working on loving myself. Also today I did not just invite a friend over till much later because I wanted to check in with myself first.

Did I want them at my place? Was I ready for the social interaction that it would require? What did I want in that moment? I enjoyed my alone time and starting to watch a movie well several because I had watched the first one apparently lol!

I felt ready to save my friend from the drama they were going through and I had to remember - they don’t do that for me. I was taking it upon myself to give and give and give.

It was only in the last hour literally did I offer.

They politely declined. As they had done before when I asked to hangout and I offered food. My leftovers that is.

No one owes me anything. I don’t owe anyone anything either. I am now just set on checking in with myself and asking myself- do I need this? Do I need to be on top of this? Do I need offer anything from my end?

Me being me is enough. InshAllah kheir.

Tomorrow is 2 weeks sober. No it’s 3 weeks sober now! I started this journey on the 30th.

It’s exactly 3 weeks. I am so proud of myself!!

Having a clear mind has been incredibly hard and so amazing at the same time.

I have had to sit with my emotions, face uncomfortable situations, I couldn’t dull the pain or try to escape any of my situations. I found myself actually wanting to be healthier. I still have a sweet tooth but it’s never as intense as before. Those munchies that could rock someone world and then pass out with chips in bed. Now it’s just something I actually want to do - eat sweets.

I’ve been to the gym twice in one week! I’ve decided to put my sleep first!

I am so proud of myself

[ghostxofxartemis]

Wholesome oc ask, for ocs of your choice (please feel free to take more than one and compare if you feel like) 2,9,12,14 plus 3 of your choice because these questions are all awesome.

Thank you for the ask! Sorry, it took longer than I wanted to answer – I’ve been super busy! And being so tired after putting in 2 hours In a day in my martial arts training.

2. Give them a warm drink of your choice, what would it be? Would their choice differ from yours?

 Reagan like cappuccinos, she likes the throthiness of them, and likes the caramel one. She has sweet tooth and has a love for coffee so both of them together is luxury. She never really used to drink them either when she was younger because as an Earthborn, she couldn’t afford these luxuries.

Cappuccinos aren’t something I normally drink myself, only once and every little while, I’m more of a straight up coffee with cream and sometimes I’ll spice it up with some liquor.

Speaking of spike coffee, this is Leah’s choice of warm drink post war. She suffers a lot with PTSD, and numbs the pain with drinking – unfortunately. Everything, from Raid on Mindoir, Torfan, to Saren, Suicide Mission, and the Reaper War just catches up with her.

9. How would they react if a person they love (friends and family included) gave them a flower bouquet unexpectedly?

Leah tends to hide her emotions, she wouldn't say anything, but she may wrap her pinky finger with Kaidan's as a sign of appreciation. The thing is, she wouldn’t want them given to her directly, so Kaidan would probably put them in a vase and on the table, yet she’d appreciate that.

Reagan has a green thumb, she’d totally love the gesture, and she would actually make craft out of them as they start drying up.

12. What is their safe place? And what does “safe place” mean to them?

For Reagan it’s her long time partner Major Coats. In her universe, they were both in the reds together, they suffered together, they thrived together. They cried together, they laughed together. They lost each other, and then found each other. No matter what the universe sends at them, they always find one another. It’s the only place she finds she can be vulnerable with, where she can be herself without fear of judgement of repercussion. He knows her deepest darkness secrets and doesn’t fault her for them, doesn’t think any less of her and vice versa. They are the embodiment of unconditional love. If you were to ask her what “safe place” is to her, she will respond with just “Will” (since Major Coats was never revealed to have a first name, I named him William). It’s not a house, it’s not any kind of possession, it’s just Will. They could be living on the streets and as long as he’s there she has a safe place. A place to lean on, a place to cry, a place to laugh, a place to shout and be angry, and be heard, and never judged, but recognized she’s human.

It's still something she’s learning for Kaidan as well. There are certain things she’s not quite ready to share, such as the death of her and Will’s daughter during the reds, or that she even had another child through unpleasant circumstances prior to Maddie, and a very young age. There’s a lot she feels she can only share with Will because he was there throughout all it. He opened up his arms to her when she left Finch with the baby, and she’s been with him since. He gave her safe harbour, well, as much as one can when you’re in a gang and gang equals wars.

14. Quickly, let them give us some life advice!

Rea and Leah are probably the worse to give advice, lol. They would both say “sometimes you have to show who is boss,” for Rea that’s usually fist fight.

For Leah, let’s just say there’s a reason she’s the Butcher of Torfan.

Three questions of my choice, here goes:

15. Now you give them some life advice.

Don’t listen to your own advice 🤣

 18. What is their favourite hobby? Would they share it with someone they love?

Reagan is an artist. She loves to craft; she loves to paint. Post-war, after she decides to retire after teaching at ICT for several years, she’ll make lots of art and sell them. Her most favourite piece is of a sniper in  Big Ben (her husband, Coats), during the reaper war. She remembered him mentioning he was in Big Ben for three days before Anderson’s squad found him and she drew it. She also learns crocheting from Kaidan’s mom. Kaidan’s mom is a psychologist in that universe, she saw all the signs of PTSD, and subtlety helps Rea with her sufferings. Rea eventually picks up on it and will often ask “are you suggestion as my mother or my psychologist?” to Eleanor’s humour. She also worked for a mechanic that taught Brazilian Jiu-jitsu on the side and Muay Thai, which she learned from him, and so did Will. So occasionally you’ll find the two just randomly rough housing while watching TV, or while in the kitchen, or just when they go in for a hug.  Just them two being silly.

18. What is the song you most associate to them?

Okay, for Reagan there's two, depending on her mood.

1. Bloody Creature Poster Girl by In this Moment

3. Boss Bitch by Doja Cat

#ask #character ask #wholesome ask #reagan shepard #leah shepard

[finsterhund]

SCREAMING

New me new me. So fucking excited right now.

Surgery consult went really fucking good.

DRAINS WILL BE SMALL. Seven fucking millimeters. That is so fucking smaller than the giant fucking chonker they use for open heart surgery. Just knowing that was such a fucking relief. Oh my god. I take it medicine has advanced a lot since the days of chest drains the size of a dime or nickel for a tiny ass toddler baby shit boy.

My stitches will also be largely dissolvable. This is fucking sick as hell. It’s a day procedure which means they knock me out and I can’t take any pain relief drugs for like a week beforehand or afterwards which will be super rough but a small price to pay.

My surgeon I talked to was super nice. I was extremely anxious going into it but he was so fucking cool. French accent so every time he said my name it sounded like how Eric says it which is quite comforting in and of itself. My first childhood family doctor also had a French accent so I felt really safe.

The entire time I was fighting tooth and nail not to say the fucking skinnamarik song which was painful in my brain but blame the discord channel for getting that in my brain. It is a fucking echolalia that is impossible to kill off.

The office was super nice and I feel good. Legitimately I feel like I am not mentally ill now that I am home and coming down from that “high”

I have to laugh about how my surgeon was like “okay so right after surgery you can’t run or swim or lift or do anything like that lol” because he knows the fucking second I can I’m gonna be like trying to do backflips and chasing cars and rock climbing and shit.

He said I’m the perfect candidate for the surgery and he’ll be happy to do surgery on me and I feel like the most special boy in the whole world. I am getting a good grade in surgery.

The subject of Cazza and cancer came up so there were a few points I was trying not to start crying but he was very kind and I think he talked me down from it? God tier surgeon. Based.

Anyways, I’m sure my grief and mental illness will catch back up with me eventually but now I feel really fucking happy. I am going to make my last frozen pizza. Maybe this weeked I will stream to try and earn more money because I kept buying gas for my roommate and all that.

Soonest I could potentially be in for surgery is late December but the longest it’ll be is six months.

BASED BASED BASED

#text post #long post #update #medical #cw: surgery

[acoupleofoddfellows]

Hello 🦋🦋 Sorry I haven’t posted much on here lately. I’m currently down with a wisdom tooth issue and has not been fun lol. I left work early yesterday and called in today. It won’t be getting pulled until TUESDAY. Luckily todayI was able to get something prescribed for the pain until then. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be babied by you 🤕😂🦋.

I know this post is a random one, but I wanted to say hi.

So, hi ❤️

[stayathomesurveys]

035.

Were you upset when you found out certain things weren’t real? (santa, tooth fairy..) A little bit, I guess. Name something you’re proud of. brag a little bit. I really haven’t done anything that I’m proud of. Where would you like to go right now? Somewhere in a different country. Which store would you like to win $1000 for? Target, Ulta, Sephora, Bed Bath & Beyond, Amazon... not sure. What do you usually eat for breakfast? I don’t typically eat breakfast.

Do you pay any attention to celebrity drama? Not really. Name a random fact. I can’t think of any. What’s been an embarrassing phase you went through? My wannabe punk/emo/scene phase that lasted all of middle school while spontaneously being “preppy.” LOL. 

Would you ever move a far distance for a relationship? Yeah. I have before and I would again. I hate staying in one place too long & am always looking for a reason to leave wherever I’m at. What’s the ugliest animal in your opinion? I don’t think any are ugly. Well, there are some ugly ass fish in the depths of the sea. What about cutest? Cats, dogs, bunnies, baby chicks, etc. Are you good at math? No. What song describes your life currently? I don’t know, I could probably list a million with all of the different feelings I’ve been having. I’m trying to stay in a somewhat good mood so I’m not going down that rabbit hole right now, lol.

What popular food do you dislike? I really can’t think of any at the moment. How long could you be famous before you got “canceled”? I don’t know. How old were you when you got your first cell phone? 11 or 12. It wasn’t a nice phone or anything. It was a Nokia TracFone, lol. Are you in any pain currently? No. What’s the closest object to you that is red? Coke Zero can. Do you have any cats? I do. What 3 things do you think you’d need during a zombie apocalypse to survive? Food, water, a gun. What’s the last meal you’ve had? I had a small bag of Skinny Pop white cheddar popcorn for lunch. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Nope. What’s a law you would create if possible? I don’t know. Have you given any thought about what the Christian God looks like? Yeah. What’s your most used emojis? Probably the pouting one. Or whatever that one with the big eyes is, lol. What age would you choose to be forever if you had to choose? 21. How many slices of pizza can you eat in 1 sitting? Maybe 2 or 3. Depends on how hungry I am and how big the slices are. Do you prefer to fix things yourself or always call an expert? I’d rather have someone do it for me.

#survey