#and I think s6 feels like something I could be okay with you know

[yellowlaboratory]

omg did you see that our boat show is ending.

literally want to cry and bawl my eyes out. im so saddddd

i can’t believe this my favs are leaving us.

i have seen it. then I spent 20 minutes gaslighting myself into believing it wasn't real. now I'm still working on processing it. like I'm truly cycle through the stages of grief.

sending you a massive hug 🫶🫶🫶

(and i'm taking any and all recommendations for new upcoming hyperfixations)

[janiehellion]

𝚩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝛐𝐮𝐠𝐡 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Daryl’s reckless behavior on a supply run nearly gets him killed, pushing you to remind him how to stay humble. Little did you know, his attitude was hiding something much deeper that only you could break through.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏���𝒏𝒈𝒔: Mommy Kink ⋮ Smut ⋮ Body Worship ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Edging ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Hurt ⋮ Comfort ⋮ Aftercare ⋮ Language

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𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚: @mayday2007

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

You leaned against the porch, one of the few spots in Alexandria that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. It all felt too damn clean sometimes, too fake even. Here, it was easy to forget how the world had gone to shit, but... Daryl? He never let himself forget. He was walking around by the gate, looking like an animal waiting for a fight, and you knew why...

Rick and a few others were getting ready for a run—another trip outside the safe walls to scavenge for supplies. But more than that, it was an excuse for Daryl to escape the suffocation of Alexandria. He’d rather be out there with the walkers than in here, playing pretend.

"Daryl," you called out, and he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes narrowing like he was already preparing for a lecture from you.

"What?" He grunted, sounding as defensive as ever. He was always on alert these days, and it was only getting worse since you arrived in Alexandria.

"Listen," you started, stepping down from the porch and running toward him as he prepared to leave. "I know you hate this place, and I understand; I really do, but you need to keep your head on straight out there. You’re not just out there for yourself. You’ve got Rick, Glenn, and Michonne with you today. You fuck anything up; they could get hurt too. Please, just be careful."

He looked away, scuffing his boot against the ground like a stubborn child who didn’t want to hear what you were saying. "Ain’t no damn kid. Can handle myself," he growled back at you.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. "You might be able to handle yourself, sure, and we all know that you are more than capable of doing that, but that doesn’t mean you can act reckless. You need to listen to Rick, do what he says, and stop acting like a damn brat. You keep pulling this shit, and one of these days, it’s gonna bite you in the ass. Literally."

Daryl clenched his jaw and scoffed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually argue with you. But then he just shook his head. "Yer done now?"

"No, Daryl, I’m not done," you snapped back, feeling your frustration grow and almost boil over. "I’m tired of watching you do this bullshit, okay? We’re all trying to make this work, and you’re out there acting like you’ve got a death wish. We’ve lost too many people already, and I’m not about to lose you or anyone else because you couldn’t keep your damn self in check."

For a second, you saw something like vulnerability, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He looked away again, like he was trying to block out your words, not wanting to listen to you.

"Just... think about what I said, okay?" You said, the tone in your voice softening slightly. You didn’t want to push him too hard, but you couldn’t just let this slide again all the time. "I’m not trying to piss you off, Daryl. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. We all need you to come back. I... I need you to come back."

He didn’t say anything; he just gave you a nod before finally turning away. But as you watched him walk toward Rick, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something bad was going to happen on this run.

Rick was already waiting by the gate, his hands on his hips as he looked around Alexandria. He seemed to be tired, but when he saw you approaching as well, he gave you a small smile.

"Did you talk to him?" Rick asked, his voice whispering, so only you could hear.

"Yeah," you replied, glancing over at Daryl, who was busy playing around with his knife. "But you know how he is. Stubborn as hell."

Rick laughed a little, but there was no real humor in it. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth? Don’t worry, I'll keep an eye on him while we’re out there, alright? If he does something stupid..."

"You'll make sure he doesn’t," you interrupted, not needing him to finish the sentence.

"Alright. Got it. We’ll be back before you know it," Rick said, louder now and turning to the gate as it opened, and Glenn arrived with the car. "We’re heading out. Stay close, keep quiet, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. We get what we need, and we get back. That's it."

You watched as Daryl took his crossbow and walked with Rick and the others over to the truck. You were worried, sure, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This was Daryl Dixon, after all. He was tough, he was resourceful, and he’d been through far worse than this. But still, there was that uncomfortable feeling in the back of your mind, the one that told you things weren’t going to go smoothly today.

Rick took Daryl aside in the meantime. "Listen, Daryl. We stick to the plan, and we get back without any extra bullshit. You got that?"

Daryl glared at Rick but didn’t say anything. You knew that look; it was the one that said he was going to do what he wanted anyway.

With that, Rick and the others—Glenn and Michonne, in this case—headed out, leaving you in Alexandria with the rest of the group.

You turned away, heading back to the house, but your thoughts were still with Daryl. You just hoped he’d listen to you for once, or rather, Rick. Because if he didn’t, you weren’t sure you’d be able to forgive him—or yourself—if something went wrong.

The truck stopped at the side of a parking lot some time later. Abandoned cars were standing around all over the place, with their windows shattered and rotting corpses still sitting in some of them. It was a graveyard. Rick turned off the engine and looked over to the building, his face already showing that things were about to get rough.

"This place is full of walkers," Rick mumbled, looking around the area. "Okay… We get in, we get out. No fucking around. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, even Daryl, though the look in his eyes told a different story. Alexandria was killing him slowly, suffocating him with its safety and daily routine, and one could see he was just waiting to break free, to remind himself what it felt like to be out there again, in the real world, and not living in an illusion.

"Stick together," Rick continued, his eyes narrowing at Daryl like he could read his mind. "We’re hitting that grocery store, grabbing what we can, and getting the hell out. Nothing else, no bullshit."

Daryl grunted in response, his hand tightening around his crossbow. He wasn’t making any promises; that was clear enough, but at least he wasn’t outright showing it. That would have to be good enough. The four of them got out of the truck, their weapons ready, and slowly made their way toward the store. It looked like it had been raided a few times already, but Rick had heard from Aaron that a shipment had been left behind in the storage rooms—lots of canned food, water, and even medicine inside the small pharmacy of the store, locked up in the back, just waiting to be taken. Easy, if they played it safe.

Of course, playing it safe had not been Daryl’s way of doing it lately, not when his blood was boiling, and especially not since the prison, Terminus, and the other hell everyone went through. And especially not ever since Alexandria.

They went through the side entrance, which was once for the people that had worked there, the glass doors hanging off their hinges, and one could easily guess how most of the walkers got into the store in the first place, apart from those walkers that’ve died inside while scavenging. The inside of the store was pure chaos, with broken shelves, rotten food, and other empty products all across the floor. They moved quietly as Rick led the way, his Colt Python out and ready as always, Glenn close behind with his knife drawn, and Michonne with her sword, while Daryl was at the end, pointing his crossbow around as well. They soon made it to the back of the store, where the stockroom doors were, without drawing any attention so far.

"Alright," Rick whispered, motioning for the others to cover him. "Glenn and I will try to open the door. Michonne, watch our backs. Daryl, you—"

But before Rick could finish, Daryl was already moving. He didn’t like waiting, didn’t like standing around while others decided what to do, or having to wait for a plan. Without a word, he went off to the right, disappearing down one of the side aisles, his crossbow at the ready.

"Daryl!" Rick hissed, but there was no stopping him.

"Shit," Glenn grumbled in a bit of annoyance and panic, his eyes looking at Rick. "Where the hell is he going? What is he doing?"

Rick shook his head in frustration. "Just... just stay here," he ordered before walking after Daryl, cursing to himself with every step.

Daryl moved fast, his crossbow raised as he approached the loading dock at the back of the store from another side. He could hear the sounds of walkers moving behind the metal door, but this was exactly what he was looking for. He shoved the door open with a grunt, with the door making a noise that could be heard all throughout the whole store.

The walkers inside turned at the sound, and they immediately moved forward, their arms outstretched.

"C’mon, ya ugly bastards," Daryl mumbled, the first bolt killing the nearest walker in an instant. The walker fell to the ground, but the others kept coming.

He reloaded quickly, but just as he was about to fire again, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off balance. He hadn’t noticed the few other walkers, hidden in an open employee restroom nearby, their fingers grabbing his vest with their teeth only inches away from his face.

"Fuck!" Daryl growled, kicking the walker in front of him back and grabbing his knife. But he soon stumbled, falling down to the floor with the two of them on top of him. The impact knocked the knife from his hands, letting it slide across the floor, just out of reach, as he struggled to push the walkers off.

Then, just as the walkers’ teeth were about to bite into his flesh, several gunshots could be heard. Daryl gasped for breath, shoving the dead off him as he got to his feet, his heart racing while he looked over at Rick standing in the doorway with his Colt Python.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Rick said, lowering the gun. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

Daryl wiped the blood from his face, glaring at Rick but not saying a single word. He didn’t need to—he knew he’d fucked up, and Rick certainly knew it too.

But Rick didn’t wait for an explanation. "We need to hurry. Get your damn ass back to the truck. Now!"

For now, Daryl didn’t argue. He grabbed his crossbow and knife, putting it over his shoulder as he moved past Rick and over to Glenn and Michonne. He could feel Rick’s eyes on his back, judging him, and it took everything in him not to lash out. But he knew Rick was right. He’d been reckless, and it had nearly cost him his life. Not only that, but the supply run failed with the other walkers in the front of the store now moving toward the storage room.

Once outside, Daryl couldn’t ignore the thought that he’d fucked up more than just the run. He’d broken the trust, not just with Rick but with you. And he knew he’d have to face the consequences when he got back.

The sun was starting to set when you saw Rick and the others coming through the gate. You’d been waiting, walking around Alexandria, trying to distract yourself. But the deal had been clear—Rick would bring Daryl back in one piece and tell you every detail. But the moment you caught sight of Rick, you knew something had gone wrong. It was written all over his face, as was the fact that they had no supplies with them.

"Rick," you called out, running over to him.

He looked up at you, nodding and narrowing his eyes. You hated that look. It meant bad news, and you were tired of bad news.

"What happened?" You demanded as he walked next to you. "Where’s Daryl?"

"He’s fine," Rick said, holding up a hand to calm you down, though it didn’t do shit for your nerves. "I don't know where he is right now. Jumped right out of the truck. Physically, he’s okay. But, hell, it was close. Too close. Again."

Your stomach dropped at his words. This was getting out of hand. "What do you mean, 'close'?"

Rick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a moment. "We were in that store Aaron told us about, wanting to get the supplies. Daryl decided to go off on his own, like he always does lately. Didn’t wait for us as a backup, just did his own thing. Not even telling us that there was an easier way and that he has seen it. Next thing I know, he’s nearly got two walkers biting into his damn neck."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "I told him—hell, we both told him so many times—not to pull that lone wolf bullshit anymore! And he still did it? I can’t fucking believe it!"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Same old Daryl, too stubborn for his own good. I got there in time, but if I hadn’t... well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now."

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm the rage inside you. But it was hard—damn hard—when you pictured Daryl almost getting himself killed because he couldn’t follow simple instructions. "What the hell is wrong with him, Rick? Why does he keep doing this shit? Is Alexandria that bad for him? I mean, yeah, we all aren’t used to this... illusion, but hell, we’re at least trying to make the best of it! All of us!"

Rick sighed, leaning against the porch railing once you both arrived at the house. "I don’t think it’s only about Alexandria, not entirely. But yeah, it’s too controlled, too... fake. So he goes out there, trying to prove he’s still... still who he was out there. But it’s not like none of us tries the exact same thing. We all do. Or did."

You shook your head in frustration. "I get it; I do. But we can’t keep going on like this. He’s going to get himself killed—or worse, get someone else hurt. I’m fucking done sitting around, hoping he’ll pull his head out of his damn ass!"

Rick looked at you with a small smile. "By now I was thinking the same thing on the way back. We’ve tried to talk sense into him, but he isn’t listening. He’s too stubborn."

"That’s it," you finally said. "I’m handling this. If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll finally listen to me. But one way or another, this shit stops today, I swear."

Rick’s eyebrows moved up in surprise before he nodded slowly. "You sure? I don’t think you should push him into a corner."

You smirked, but it was more due to annoyance than amusement. "Oh, I’m sure. He’s going to learn today that there’s more than one way to get his damn ass in line. Trust me, Rick. Otherwise… Otherwise, I just don’t know what to do anymore."

Rick laughed a little and shook his head. "Alright then. Just don’t go too hard on him. And you must remember that it takes time. With… all of this."

You waved him off, already halfway down the steps of the porch. "He’ll be fine, Rick."

As you headed toward the garage, where you knew Daryl was probably working on his bike, your mind was already racing with what you were going to say. This wasn’t just about Daryl acting like a reckless asshole—this was about keeping him and the others alive, keeping him from throwing away everything you’d fought so hard for in this new world, with the rest of the group.

The moment you stepped into the garage, he barely looked your way, too focused on tightening a bolt that didn’t even need any more tightening. But you weren’t about to let him ignore you, not after what Rick had told you.

"Daryl," you started, but he only grunted in response, and that was about it—just a damn grunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to reply with words. And it pissed you off how he could be so nonchalant after nearly getting himself killed.

"Look at me," you snapped, stepping closer to him. "I said... Look at me, Dixon."

He paused, his hand stilling on the wrench, before finally looking into your eyes with a scoff.

"You think you can just go off on your own and do whatever the fuck you want? Well, guess what, Daryl? You almost got your damn throat ripped out today. And for what? Because you couldn’t listen? Because you’re too stubborn to accept that you’re part of a community now, and not some lone wolf out there in the woods with a group he helps out every now and then?" You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ain’t like that," he mumbled, but it didn’t really sound like he was trying to defend himself.

"Bullshit!" You shot back, stepping even closer until you were right in his face, close enough to see the way his eyes widened slightly. "It’s exactly like that, and you know it. And for what? To prove something? To whom? You ain’t gotta prove anything to me, Daryl. And certainly not our group. But you do owe it to us to stop acting like a fucking idiot!"

He turned away from you, but you weren’t done yet. "This isn’t just about you anymore, Dixon. Every time you pull this shit, you put everyone at risk. Everyone! You get bit, we lose a member of this group. A member of our damn family! You die, and we all suffer! Do you even get that? Or are you that stuck with your own damn head up your ass that you can’t see that?"

"Ain’t need ya shittin’ on me," he growled, his voice quiet, but you caught something like guilt in it. "Can handle my ass."

"Clearly," you snapped at him with sarcasm. "Because you handled yourself so well today that Rick had to pull your ass out of a walker’s mouth. Real smooth, Daryl! Real fucking smooth!"

He flinched at that, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to face you. "Ain’t like I needed any damn help."

You didn’t back down, though. You were way past that. "And that’s the problem, Daryl. You think that you don’t need anyone. But guess what? You do. You need us, and we need you. So stop acting like an asshole and start thinking about what you’re doing to everyone else."

For a second, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to figure something out. "Why ya care s’ much?" He finally asked.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Because I give a shit, you damn idiot. Because I... care about you more than anyone else here even knows, and I’m not about to watch you throw your life away over some macho bullshit, or whatever you’re trying to act like. You think I want to lose you? You think any of us do?"

He stared at you. "Ain’t tryna make shit harder," he muttered, looking down at the ground, shrugging his shoulders. "Jus’... can’t stand it ‘ere sometimes. Ain’t me ‘round ‘ere."

"Who you are isn’t some reckless idiot who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. Who you are is someone who’s saved more lives than you can count, someone who’s part of a family now. And yeah, maybe it’s different here and maybe it’s hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to check out whenever you feel like it, as if this community is a fucking hotel!"

He didn’t say anything; he just kept looking at you with those blue, searching eyes, like he was waiting for you to give him something—some kind of direction.

You took a deep breath. "Daryl, you need to stop this shit. You need to stop before you get yourself killed. And if you won’t listen to Rick, then you’ll damn well listen to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering. "Got it."

"Good," you said. "Because this stops now. You’re done running off, done putting yourself at risk for no damn reason. From now on, you listen, just like before. We’re all a big team, Daryl, and we still are despite everything. Understand?"

"Yeah… Do ya still lo—" He started but stopped himself from speaking any further. "Are ya mad?"

"What? No, I’m not mad," you answered, stepping back to leave, wanting to give him some space. "But I’m hurt and disappointed."

Daryl sat there for a long time after you left. He gritted his teeth, and his fists were clenched, but it wasn’t anger. It was guilt. Shame even. All he knew was that he’d fucked up.

"Stupid, stupid fuckin’ idiot," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair while he could still hear your voice in his head. "Fuckin’ piece o' shit. Can’t even keep yer damn head straight."

He felt like a fool, like a stubborn kid who’d just been put in his place. But it wasn’t just the anger that stuck with him—it was the look in your eyes, the pain and fear of what could’ve happened to him.

"Gotta make this right," he grumbled, now walking around the garage. "Ain’t gonna let her think I’m some reckless asshole who don’t care ‘bout nothin’." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She’s right… Been actin’ like a damn idiot. But… shit, need t’ prove I ain’t just some fuckup."

He knew you’d left him alone on purpose, letting him think about it, just like you’ve done several times before. But this time, he wasn’t going to sit here and wait for you to come back. He had a plan—a rather half-baked plan, but it was all he had. He needed to show you how much you meant to him and how much he needed you.

"Fuck, she’s gonna kill me," he sighed, shaking his head as he made his way out of the garage. And he knew exactly where and in what house he was going to find you.

You were already half asleep, lying on the floor on a mattress, when you felt someone being there—before you even opened your eyes. It was Daryl, of course, kneeling over you as he carefully pulled the sheets back.

"What the hell are you doing, Dixon?" You mumbled, still groggy. "Leave me alone."

He didn’t answer right away; he just pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another, moving down your arm, his lips barely touching your skin. It was slow on purpose, like he was trying to worship every inch of you to make up for all the stupid shit he’d done. And it was working, even if it pissed you off that he thought he could just... seduce his way out of this.

"Daryl," you warned, but your voice was weak due to the way his strong, big hands were now sliding down your sides to your waist.

"‘M sorry," he whispered, before he kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "Fucked it up, I know that. But need ya to know... I ain’t a fool. I need ya, more than ya fuckin’ know."

You wanted to stay mad, to shove him away from you and tell him to get his shit together, but his touch—God, it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was taking away your anger with every kiss and every touch of his hands. And when he put his head lower, kissing along your ribs after he pulled up your shirt, you felt almost frustrated.

"Daryl," you breathed out as a warning again, but he didn’t stop. He slid his hands further up your shirt, pulling it over your head as he kissed down your ribs, his fingers grabbing your body like he was trying to show you that he was still alive.

"Need ya," he mumbled against your skin, his voice sounding almost desperate. "Need ya t’ know I ain’t takin’ this for granted."

"Daryl, stop…" You started, but your words were cut off by a gasp as he found that spot just above your waist, his lips kissing you harder, and his teeth softly biting your skin. You felt a shiver run through you, and hell, you hated how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him to keep going.

"I’ll stop if ya want me to, I swear," he whispered, but he didn’t stop, not really. His hands slid down, undoing your pants and wanting to slide them down, which made you stop breathing for a moment.

You were looking at him, your eyes narrowing. "You think you can just—" You started, but then he shut you up—kissing you hard and long, cutting off your words. And fuck, if it didn’t make your whole body shiver with need.

"Can’t help it," he muttered against your lips, his voice a little shaky, like he was losing control. "Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, ‘bout how much I need ya."

"You think this makes up for what you did? For your reckless behavior?" You asked, shaking your head slightly.

"Nah," he admitted. "Gotta show ya somehow. Gotta show ya how much I fuckin’ care."

You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from your pants, even though you were already aching for him. "You don’t get to touch me like that," you said. "Not until I say so."

He swallowed hard, his breath stopping as he nodded, his eyes wide. "Please," he whispered, looking up at you and waiting for permission.

"Please what?" You demanded, tightening your grip on his wrists. "You think you can just come in here and expect me to forgive you? After everything?"

"Nah," he stammered, his eyes looking down to the floor again. "But… I need ya. I need ya t’ see that I can make it right."

"You wanna make it right, Daryl?" You asked again. "Then you’re gonna do exactly what I say, like I said."

"Yeah," he answered, his body almost trembling with the need to make you forgive him. "I’ll do whatever ya want."

You let go of his wrists, letting them fall back to his sides. "Take off your clothes," you ordered, the tone in your voice leaving no room for argument.

He hesitated for just a second, but then he started to stand up and get out of his clothes, his hands shaking as he got out of his shirt, then his pants, and the rest, until he was standing there, naked and vulnerable before you.

"Now get back on your knees," you demanded, watching as his eyes widened.

He dropped to his knees, waiting for your next command. And fuck, if that didn’t send a rush of power straight through you.

You stood over him, your hand reaching out to grab his hair, pulling his head back so he was forced to look up at you. "Look at me."

And he did. He slowly looked up in shame.

"You don’t get to play the lone wolf out there," you continued, stepping closer, your hand grabbing his chin, moving his head up further. "Not anymore. You almost got yourself killed."

"I know," he muttered. "‘M sorry..."

He wanted—no, he needed—to show you how he felt about his mistakes, and he was ready to do it on his knees if that’s what you demanded.

You let go of him, letting him fall forward, as you lay back down onto the mattress. "Show me," you simply said.

And he did—God, he did... He kissed every inch of you, his lips moving lower, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you might disappear, and he held onto you like you were the only person able to keep him safe.

He didn’t need to be told twice—he knew what he had to do to make things right.

You leaned back on the mattress, spreading your legs just enough to invite him closer, and watched his hands shake a little as they slid up your thighs.

"Yes," he whispered quietly. He was trying to be tough, but you could see through it. The man was already lost in you, in the need to make you feel good to make up for his earlier bullshit.

No, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; the way he now nearly ripped off the rest of your clothes was almost urgent.

"Goddamn," he whispered, his eyes wide and hungry as he took in the sight of you. "So fuckin’ beautiful."

His hands were trembling as he reached for your bra, fumbling with it before finally getting it off. He slid it off your shoulders, throwing it over to your pants on the floor, his eyes never leaving your breasts.

Daryl’s mouth went dry as he leaned in, his lips stopping just above one nipple. "Can’t believe yer lettin’ me touch ya like this," he whispered, more to himself than to you. Then he closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue moving over it, making you gasp.

He sucked and licked, using his teeth just a little, sliding them lightly against it, while his other hand was pinching and rolling the other.

"Fuck, Daryl," you groaned, your hands moving through his hair, holding him close as he worshiped your breasts like they were the most important things in the world. "Don’t stop."

He growled against your skin and kept going; he kept sucking, licking, and teasing until your nipples were swollen and hard, sensitive to every little touch.

He soon pulled back, a line of spit connecting his mouth to your nipple before it broke, and he greedily licked over it once more. His eyes were full with need, his breathing heavy as he looked up at you, like he was waiting for permission to keep going.

"You’re going to be a good boy and keep worshipping me?" You asked, your voice teasing and commanding him at the same time.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Please… Need t’…"

"Then do it," you ordered, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Daryl’s hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, moving along your hips before coming to a stop between your legs. His fingers brushed against your pussy, finding you already wet and wanting, and he let out a growl.

He started slowly, almost with hesitation, like he was worshipping at some holy altar. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, soft at first, but when you grabbed his hair again, he got the message. His mouth found your pussy the moment he ripped off your panties, and it was as if a switch flipped.

Daryl buried his face between your legs, his tongue working desperately, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You let out a moan, your hand tightening in his hair, guiding him but also keeping him under your control.

"Fuck, Daryl," you breathed out. "Just like that."

And he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Every part of him was focused on you—on the taste of you, the way you trembled when he hit just the right spot. He was completely at your mercy, with the need to prove himself to make you proud.

You could feel him moan against you and how he was getting lost in it, in you. You knew he was desperate for more, desperate for any sign that he was doing good and that you’d forgive him. But you weren’t about to make it easy for him. Not yet, at least.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to get him away from you, and he looked up at you, his lips wet and parted, already missing the taste of you. "Please," he growled out, and you could see the need to do more, to have more of you.

"You keep listening to me. You understand?" You asked, caressing his head gently.

"Yeah," he stammered and nodded in return.

You pushed his head back down, with his tongue slipping inside your pussy almost immediately, like he was trying to eat out every bit of forgiveness he could get.

And fuck, did it feel good. The way he was eating out your pussy, every little move of his tongue, the way he sucked on your clit just hard enough to make you see stars—it was like he was made for this, made to worship you.

"Fuck, don’… don’ make me stop," he growled out in between. He was trembling now, hands still gripping your hips tightly, his eyes wide with something that seemed close to panic, like he couldn’t stand being away from you for even a second.

But you leaned down, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at you. "You want to make this right? You wait until I’m ready."

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard, his eyes pleading without a word and barely holding it together. He was ready to do anything you asked, to wait as long as you wanted him to, just for a chance to taste you again.

"Good boy," you moaned, suddenly pulling him up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. He kissed you like he was starved for it, holding on for dear life.

And you could feel how hard he was—the desperate twitching of his already leaking cock against your thigh—but you weren’t done teasing him yet. "You’re doing so good, Daryl. Go on now."

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, the word coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it.

"What did you just call me?" You asked in shock and froze.

Daryl’s eyes widened in shock and panic. "Didn’t mean t’ say that," he said, his voice trembling. "I jus’—"

"Say it again," you commanded, cutting him off. "Say it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes looking around as if searching for an escape, but he knew he couldn’t hide from you. "Yes, mommy," he whispered quietly, a shiver running through him as he said the word again.

But you didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to the floor. "Good boy," you simply answered. "Go on…"

He didn’t hesitate, his hands following the curves of your body again, his lips following close behind. He kissed down your neck, in between your breasts, along your stomach as he moved lower, his hands soon enough sliding up your thighs and over your pussy.

"Shit," he mumbled, his eyes widening as he realized just how ready you were for him. "Yer so fuckin’ wet."

He didn’t say anything else, too focused on what he was doing. His fingers moved through your wet folds, teasing you until you were trembling with need, and he circled your clit with his thumb slowly on purpose, watching your face for every little reaction.

And one moan—that was all he needed. He leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue sliding over your clit, licking and sucking it gently all over. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry, and took his time.

"Fuck, Daryl," you moaned, your fingers gripping his hair, holding him in place as he devoured you. "That’s it… don’t stop."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He kept going, kept licking, sucking, and teasing until you were right on the edge and close to coming.

The control he was giving you made you feel powerful, and hell, if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever experienced.

"Please, mommy," he begged. "Lemme make ya cum now."

"Keep going," you commanded, feeling yourself getting closer due to his words. "Don’t stop. Oh, fuck…"

He obeyed, and when you finally came, you gasped and moaned, your body arching and trembling under the force of it. But as soon as you began to come down from your orgasm, you noticed how he started to get more aggressive, his hands gripping your hips harder. He pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into yours as he moved back up.

"Wanna fuck ya," he growled almost primal, grabbing his cock and pushing it against your pussy.

But you shoved him back. "Not so fast," you said. "You’re going to do it my way."

He looked at you with frustration and desperation. "But… I need ya," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. "Please!"

You didn’t give in. Instead, you watched as he tried to hold himself back. "If you want more, you’re going to have to do it my way, Daryl. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Yeah, ‘kay," he murmured and nodded, his voice trembling.

"Not yet," you said, wrapping your hand around his shaft. The hardness of his cock was pulsing against your hand, and you enjoyed the power it gave you. "You’re going to wait a little longer."

Daryl’s breath hitched, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tried to control himself. "Please," he begged, his voice raw and desperate. "Need it."

You only smiled, slowly stroking him, your movements maddeningly slow. "You want more?" You teased, leaning closer to him. "You want me to keep going? To make you cum already as well?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes! Please, mommy. Can’t take it no more!"

You took your time, each move up and down his shaft, making him moan and writhe.

"Fuck, don’ stop," he groaned. "Please, I can’t—"

"Hush now," you interrupted, squeezing his cock. "You’re going to wait until I say so. If you want to be a good boy, you’ll follow my instructions."

Daryl’s cock was coated in his pre-cum and throbbing in your hand, and every time you squeezed just a little harder, he would shiver, his voice breaking into pleas and whimpers.

"Please… ‘M so close," he whimpered. "Can’t hold back much longer."

You looked down at him, smirking, and then you jerked him faster and harder, bringing him right to the edge. His body was tense and almost painfully trying to hold off his orgasm.

"Daryl," you said softly, your hand driving him mad. "I want you to beg for it. Just a little bit more."

His pleas turned into desperate murmurs as he struggled with himself. "Please… Need t’… Jus’ let me... Oh fuck!"

With a final pump, you brought him right to the very edge again, feeling his cock throbbing against your palm. Then, just when you could see he was about to break, you pulled back, stopping altogether.

Daryl let out a whimper, his eyes desperate. "Fuck, please… Need it."

You leaned in close, kissing his neck. "Not yet. I want you to really feel it, to know how much you need me."

"Please," he begged again. "Please..."

"Tell me how much you need it," you smiled at him.

He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Need it so bad, mommy, please... Need t’ cum for ya. Need ya..."

You gave him one final, hard stroke, and then you stopped again, making him groan and tremble over you, the muscles in his arms tensing up painfully hard. "Good boy," you whispered, finally giving him permission to slide into your pussy, just not all the way.

"No further," you said. "Just the tip. Hold it back."

He groaned, his hands gripping the sheets next to you on the mattress. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Lemme fuck ya..."

You ignored his pleas, your hand still pumping up and down his shaft. "Say it," you commanded. "Say you’re my good boy, Daryl."

"‘M yer good boy," he mumbled, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

Finally, when you could see the look on his face—the way he was practically begging to come—you leaned in. "You want it now?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, mommy..."

His cock was pulsing, the tip pressing into you just enough to make him groan but not enough to give him what he wanted.

You watched as a sudden tear rolled down his cheek—a single, small, and tiny drop. The sight of it—so rare for someone like Daryl—made you widen your eyes. You could see the complete surrender—the way he was completely at your mercy.

Without warning, you pushed against him, taking him all the way in, and made him cry out, his body shuddering as he filled you up and feeling your pussy stretch around his cock. The look of shock and ecstasy on his face was too much, even for you. His eyes widened, his lips parting slightly, and his cock was pulsing inside you, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck! Fuck…"

And the moment you took him in fully, he came hard inside of you with a loud groan, his body trying to push in as deep as possible as he reached his orgasm, while you held him close, feeling the last of his cum filling you up as he finished.

You soon lay there, your body still tingling, but Daryl, on the other hand, was a mess after he quickly pulled out of you. Now his walls were coming back up, and he was doing his best to act like he didn’t need a damn thing from you.

He was trying to play it cool, turning his face away, still shaking a little bit. "Jus’… gotta go," he mumbled, trying to shove you away. "Don’ need ya all up in m’ shit now."

"Oh, come on. You can’t be serious," you smirked, running a finger teasingly down his chest.

He glared at you, trying to push you away once more. "‘M fine. Jus’ leave me ‘lone," he grumbled.

"Look at you, all tough and cold again. But you were begging for it only a minute ago." You let your hand move over his skin, feeling his muscles twitch. "And now you’re just going to be an ass about it? Not a chance."

He froze as you touched him. "Shut up," he snapped. "Don’t need yer damn pity."

You rolled your eyes, leaning in close. "Pity? This isn’t pity, Daryl."

He tried to pull away again, but you held him close, your hands moving up to his chin. You tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

"Seriously?" You said with a smile. "You’re going to act like a brat now? After everything?" You moved closer, teasing him with a kiss on his lips.

Daryl’s breath stopped for a second, and you felt him shudder under your touch. "Fuck off," he muttered, but it was sounding rather weak, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You laughed, cupping his chin more firmly. "Make me. Or... maybe you really are just a brat who needs to be put in his place all over again."

He shivered as he fought with himself. "No… Don’ need this," he mumbled, but it was clear he was losing the battle against himself. His voice was getting quieter, and he knew that he was failing miserably.

Then, you finally met his lips with yours. It was a slow, gentle kiss, with you wanting to give him reassurance. He moaned against them, the sound full of desperation.

When you pulled back, you saw how his eyes were wide, and he suddenly nuzzled up against you, his face buried in your neck, his body trembling as if he was trying to hold onto whatever was left of his defenses.

"‘M so sorry," he murmured against your skin, his voice breaking. "Didn’ mean t’... I jus’—"

You ran your fingers through his hair, cuddling him closer as he clung to you. "Quiet," you whispered, putting your lips against his forehead. "It’s okay."

He wrapped his arms around you, his grip a little rough as if he was afraid you might slip away. "I fucked up," he said. "Almos’ got m’self killed an’ hurt ya. ‘M so damn sorry."

You held him close, his body pressed against yours. "I know," you said softly. "But you’re still alive, Daryl."

But the moment of calm was ruined when Daryl’s body tensed up again, with him starting to sob violently.

"Shit," he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "‘M such a fuckin’ asshole. Messed everythin’ up. Could’ve died an’—"

You shushed him, holding him even tighter, pressing kisses to his temples. You didn’t say much, letting your actions speak louder than any words even could.

He kept mumbling apologies, his sobs so intense that they shook his whole body. "Ain’t good ‘nough. ‘M worthless. Jus’ a useless piece o’ shit," he sobbed further, his voice cracking.

You gently cupped his face again, lifting it so you could look into his wet eyes. Slowly, you wiped the tears away with your thumbs, kissing his cheeks where the tears had been rolling down.

"Hush," you whispered softly. "You’re not a useless piece of shit. You’re not worthless. You made a mistake, but you’re here, and you’re alive. That’s what matters."

He needed to hear that you weren’t disappointed and that you still loved him despite everything.

Daryl looked up at you, his eyes all red and swollen, but his sobbing began to calm down. And as he finally started to relax, his grip on you softened, but he didn’t let go. He was still clinging to you, needing you to remind him that he was loved and that he was enough.

"Thanks," he whispered quietly. "For… everythin’."

You smiled to yourself, playing with his hair. "Anytime," you murmured, pressing another soft kiss to the top of his head.

You didn’t need to say anything more; your arms around him were enough to help him find his way back to feeling okay. The walls he’d built were finally down, and for now, he was just Daryl—raw and in need of someone to help him piece himself back together.

[mangocurist]

@daylilie @jumped-for-the-yaoi be normal this time pleaseeee. anyway so zincewam writing(ls s6 zam and uu wemmbu :)) and now im gonna fuck off to go watch zams stream

✶⋆.˚⋆˙⟡𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✶⋆.˚⋆˙⟡𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✶⋆.˚⋆˙⟡𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✶⋆.˚⋆˙⟡𖤓

Zam isn’t sure what she’s expecting when she meets Wemmbu again, somewhere around ninety-seven days plus a month or so since his (as of now) final death on Lifesteal. 

Honestly, Zam hadn’t even thought he’d ever be talking to Wemmbu again— at least, not before Season Six ended. But her return to the server had its consequences: namely, being kidnapped by one SpokeIsHere and being brought to a random private server to ‘wait until Wemmbu shows up.’ 

Because that was a totally valid way to treat someone you hadn’t talked to in ninety seven days! Yeah, Spoke, let’s just— drag Prince Zam wherever you want! Seriously, if she hadn’t burned her Oath already, she’d be considering it now because of that guy.

Still. It’s… Zam supposes it’s not such a bad thing to talk to Wemmbu again, even if he is still a bit mad at the way this was set up.

After all, he’s not the same Wemmbu who tormented her for the sole crime of caring more about building than she did chaos. That Wemmbu— well, Zam’s pretty sure that Wemmbu had died long before now, even. But… she doesn’t know what she’ll make of this one. And frankly, Zam isn’t sure what this Wemmbu will make of him, either, because he’s not the same Prince Zam that he was ninety-seven days ago. And she certainly isn’t the same Prince Zam who was around at the start of the server.

But— well. Whatever she could have been expecting, this isn’t it.

“Oh. It’s you,” Wemmbu says after he finally logs on, his eyes widening for a second before lowering into a tired glare, and he sounds— defeated. He looks defeated, even if he doesn’t necessarily dress like it, clad in an unfamiliar copper-trimmed cyan cloak and sporting a glowing eye halo above his head. It isn’t right— the Wemmbu Zam knows would be gloating or annoying or doing his best to make Zam upset right about now, flexing status or clothes or whatever the hell he holds against him this time. He wouldn’t be… well. He wouldn’t be looking at Zam like he’s afraid of him.

It gives Zam a bad, bad rush of deja vu, like that same sickening feeling he’d felt when he talked to Mapicc, only to find out that in the time she’d spent away from the rest of the server they’d managed to break her Mapicc down to nothing. 

What the hell had happened?

“Wemmbu?” Zam says, the word coming out as more of a question than a greeting. “Hey, man… uh. Long time no see?”

“It’s been a few months,” Wemmbu acknowledges, and… yeah. Okay. Seems like Zam wasn’t the only one keeping score, then. “...Sooo. Are you building another Empire or something? Seems like a pretty bad move. You know. With what happened last time.” He motions to her clothes, and Zam blinks, confused for just a second, before he remembers what he’s wearing.

“No, no, um— I— I left behind building empires a while ago. You… uh. You shouldn’t know about the Prince Zam Empire, anyway,” Zam coughs awkwardly into the crook of her arm, suddenly a little self conscious of how overgeared she looks compared to an armor-less Wemmbu. Maybe that’s why he looked so… downtrodden? He thought she’d try and jump him, maybe? The armor he and Derap had gathered earlier that day suddenly feels a little heavier, a little bit too much for her to wear, and she hurriedly strips herself of her chestplate, pants and helmet, leaving her only in Atlas’s netherite-trimmed diamond boots and her plain clothes without any other protection. “That was— that was like, a Season Three thing. I think. You weren’t around for that.” 

Wemmbu’s eyebrows furrow. “What? Season Three? I wasn’t… what do you mean?” 

“Yeah— yeah! I, uh. You know. Got executed and like, toyed with, by a rainbow-bandanna wearing God, or whatever. Bad times. But you shouldn’t… you weren’t around for that,” Zam explains hurriedly, hands fiddling with the edge of her cloak. He pauses when his fingers hit the edge of the Wemmbu pin on the cloak, and drops it like a hot potato. Wemmbu’s probably looking at her weird now. She doesn’t blame him. “I’m… uh. Not a pacifist now anymore, either. But— I’m never doing an Empire again. Just… just Zaun, but that’s like, a commune of sorts, you know?” 

Wemmbu’s expression flickers, and then, his eyes seem to harden. “Riiiiiight. So, we’re just making shit up now?”

“What?” Zam blinks, bewildered. This was not the way he was expecting this conversation to go. “Uh— no….? I don’t know what you mean, dude.”

“The Empire. Your Empire, that you betrayed me over,” Wemmbu says, his hands flying to his hair, looking like a mess. “All the shit you did to me, in— in the Prince Zam Empire, in the Proton Prison— all of that, are you just gonna pretend none of that shit ever happened?”

“Wemmbu, I—”

“Yippity yappity, whatever, bro, I literally don’t care what you have to say about— your make believe ‘Season Three’ shit, you, like— can you be fucking serious? And, like, talk about what you did to me?” Wemmbu grips his own wrists, as if he wants to reach out and shake Zam by the shoulders but doesn’t trust himself to. Zam just watches, that awful feeling sinking deeper and deeper into his gut. 

This isn’t the Wemmbu she knows, is he?

“I don’t know what— what this… what your Zam did to you. Because— I don’t think you’re the Wemmbu I know. So, I don’t— think we’re on the same page here,” Zam tells him, voice level. She forces her hands to stay still, clenching them at the sides of her body as she meets Wemmbu in his red-rimmed eyes. “Look. Just— I know, I know, it sounds stupid, and I probably sound like I’m lying, but— but just hear me out for a second, alright? And if I say anything you don’t get, or want me to explain, I’ll… I’ll do that. Just… give me a moment.”

“...Fine.” Wemmbu says. A tear slips down his cheek, and Zam wants nothing more than to reach out and wipe it off, but when she reaches out, he steps back, a little jittery motion that makes her heart crack a little more.

“Okay. Okay. That’s… alright. I— I’ll start with Season Five, where we first met.” Zam inhales, and still holding Wemmbu’s gaze, she starts to explain.

She can only hope that this Wemmbu will be able to trust him with whatever his Zam did to him.

[reiding-writing]

hiii congrats on 2k!

could I please have a second hand book with our dearly beloved cold reader? I'm thinking maybe she gets too drunk and Spencer has to take care of her? but I'm cool with anything!

love ya ❤️❤️

TALKING FISTS — SPENCER REID!

alcohol and a short temper don’t mix, who would’ve thought?

s6!spencer x cold!reader fluff? 1.2k cold!reader masterlist

WARNINGS | intoxicated!reader, fem!reader, reader punches someone and instigates a fight, mentions (but it doesn’t actually happen) of throwing up, reader is a bit of a twat as per usual

a/n — a bit of a different way for spencer to ‘look after’ our beloved cold!reader, but i think this is accurate to what would happen if she actually got super drunk 😭

main masterlist. | 2k book fayre !! | event masterlist.

Spencer knows you’ve had too much when he has to physically stop you from fighting someone.

Realistically, you’d had too much four drinks before that, but with the way Morgan was feeding you shots it was kind of hard to keep track.

It had been a long week, and you were in no mood to entertain anyone. Still, somehow, Garcia had convinced you to go out for drinks with everyone after a particularly difficult case.

You weren't the kind of person to get swept up in the camaraderie, but every now and again you gave in, and in this case specifically, you felt like the weight of the last few days might lift with a strong enough drink.

As the night wore on, you found yourself knocking back one drink after another, not even sure why you were still there.

Maybe it was because you needed to feel something other than the exhaustion that had taken up permanent residence in your bones.

Or maybe it was because Spencer kept looking at you with that concerned, too-perceptive gaze of his, like he could see right through your icy exterior.

You weren't sure when the tipping point happened, but somewhere between drink four and drink five, you became more irritable than usual.

The alcohol loosened the tight grip you usually had on your temper, making you feel even more impatient, even more annoyed at the crowd around you.

Someone bumped into you as they passed by, spilling a bit of your drink, and that was all it took to set you off.

“Watch it.” You snapped, your voice sharp.

The guy turned around, clearly drunk, and rolled his eyes. “Relax, it's just a drink.”

You stood up from your chair, your movements a little unsteady but your glare deadly. “I said, watch it.”

The guy laughed, looking you up and down like you were some sort of joke. “What, you gonna do something about it?”

Before you could even think about backing down, your fist connected with the side of his face.

It wasn’t a hard punch—not enough to seriously hurt him—but it was enough to shut him up.

Or at least, it should have been.

Instead, in the midst of the widened eyes and the gasps, he turns back towards you, chin cradled in his hand, and sneers.

“You wanna start something? Don’t think I won’t hit you back because you’re a fucking girl—”

Suddenly, there were hands pulling you back, the noise of the bar amplifying as more people got involved.

You were distantly aware of Spencer calling your name, trying to calm the situation, but your blood was boiling, and the alcohol made everything feel disconnected, like you were watching yourself in third person.

“Okay that’s enough—“ Spencer's voice cut through the haze, sharper than you were used to. He was beside you now, his hand on your arm, pulling you out of the fray. "Come on, we need to go now."

You wanted to protest, to rip your arm out of his grasp and tell him you didn’t need help, but the room was spinning, and you couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

Spencer’s grip tightened, and before you knew it, he had steered you out of the bar, away from the chaos you had started.

The cool night air hit you hard, making you stumble, and if not for Spencer’s hands steady on your shoulders, you probably would’ve fallen over.

He guided you carefully towards a bench nearby, and you collapsed onto it, Spencer crouching in front of you with his brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, his voice soothing but full of worry.

You tried to wave him off, but your hand felt heavy, like it wasn't really yours. “I'm fine, Reid,” you slurred, though the words came out much less convincing than you intended.

“You’re definitely not fine,” Spencer said, a small, exasperated smile tugging at his lips despite the situation. “You just punched someone. In the face,”

You blinked at him, your brain struggling to process. “He was being a dick.”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying he wasn’t, but you don’t usually… you know… punch people.”

You leaned back against the bench, the world still tilting slightly around you. “Maybe I should punch more people.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Then, his tone softened. “Let’s get you home.”

You were too tired to argue, and when Spencer helped you to your feet, you leaned on him more than you intended.

He was warm and steady, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, even though you had spent so much time keeping everyone at arm's length.

Spencer wasn’t someone you ever imagined being close to, but in that moment, you were grateful for him.

The cab ride back to your apartment was quiet, with Spencer making sure you didn’t fall asleep or throw up on the way. When you finally stumbled through your front door, he guided you to the couch, sitting you down gently.

“You need anything? Water?” He asked, glancing around your apartment like he was looking for something that might help.

You groaned, resting your head in your hands. “Just… leave me alone.”

Spencer didn’t move. He stood there, awkwardly, clearly debating whether or not to listen to you. Eventually, he sighed and grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, directing it into your unstable hands and carefully pushing the bottom of the glass upwards to direct it towards you lips.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said quietly, and you could hear the hint of a smile in his voice as you reluctantly took the first sip.

And then it wasn’t so reluctant, and you downed the whole glass.

That seemed to satisfy Spencer enough for one night.

“Get some sleep okay? I’ll call you in the morning,”

“Whatever,”

Spencer presses his lips together in the hint of a smile as he turns to leave, content that you’ll be able to take care of yourself from here.

“Night,”

Spencer lets out a breath, fondness escaping through the cracks of his mouth. “Goodnight,”

[spidercatweb]

Your Embrace and My Collapse ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: fem!bau!reader, migraine!reid, angst, hurt/comfort, tiny bit of fluff at the end, established relationship, Spencer is snippy and a little mean but it's because of migraine, Spencer yells at reader, reader is sad for a bit, non-specific case details, mentions of women being murdered, a hint of misogyny from a suspect, one single swear word, umm nothing else I don't think? lmk if so. this is set in s6 :)

Description: Spencer has a migraine, he yells at r when it gets too overwhelming, he regrets this later, calling to apologize.

Word Count: 3.1k

Request: Hi! First off I loveee your blog!! Second off could I get a spencer reid x fem!reader where they r having an argument about literally anything and then a lot of spencer groveling? thanks for considering

A/n: thank you sm for the request, anon!! I am just now realizing that what happens in this isnt much of an argument 😬, but i quite like how it turned out. I hope you enjoy!! <3 Is it obvious i got carried away w this one?

After four years of working with Spencer, and nearly two years of dating him, it wasn't surprising that you were the first to notice that something was wrong. 

The past few days, Spencer hadn't gone on as many long rambles as usual. Maybe he was just tired this week, cases have been very time consuming lately. Not that they usually aren't.

You figured out what was wrong when you saw him squeeze his eyes shut and rub them with the base of his palms. Three times in an hour. Unusual. 

After the team finished delivering the profile for the current case, you took a moment to pull him aside. 

"Are you feeling okay?" Concern in your voice, you reached gently for his hand. 

He pulled away. "Yeah, I'm fine." His face scrunched up, he shut his eyes tightly and his nose crinkled up. You'd find it cute if it wasn't obvious he was in pain. He pressed into the bridge of his nose with two fingers,clearly trying to ease a headache.

"Okay," you gave him a small smile and nod, "let me know if you need anything, I've got Advil in my bag." 

"I know, thank you." He made an effort to return your smile.

"Reid, Y/l/n, we've got a lead. Garcia's about to fill everyone in." Hotch's commanding voice cut through the calm, quiet bubble around the two of you. 

The team filed into the briefing room of the BAU. Thankfully, the case was local. You were glad to be in a familiar place. 

Garcia was already seated at the small round table, tapping away on her laptop. You sat down next to Spencer, Prentiss sat on your other side.

"Lovelies, we have a small problem. I've found two men who almost exactly fit our profile."

"We'll bring both of them in for questioning, then. What do we know about them, Garcia?" Hotch directs the attention back to her.

"I was just about to tell you that, sir. First up, we've got Landon Adams, 27 years old. His childhood was... less than nice. Plenty of trips to the hospital, poor thing. Lots of injuries consistent with abuse. And I'm assuming everything going on at home was related to the multiple reports of violence towards his fellow students at school. Multiple suspensions, and he was expelled from his highschool." She takes a quick moment to switch the information on her screen.

"Second guy, Cole Parker, 29 years old. Similar childhood to Adams. Frequent hospital trips for supposed accidents, bad behaviour at school, suspensions, an expulsion. Oh and get this! They both work in construction! Different companies, though."

"Do we have home addresses and places of work?" Rossi chimes in.

"We do, sir, I've already sent them to you all." Garcia smiles proudly, always one step ahead.

"Thank you, Garcia. Alright, Prentiss, Morgan. You two go to Adams' home. Rossi and JJ, you go to his workplace. Seaver and I will go to Parker’s home. Y/l/n and Reid, you two go to his workplace." 

Everyone nods at Hotch as they receive their placements. The team splits up accordingly, each pair heading to a different SUV. Exiting the Quantico building, you see Spencer wince at the brightness of the sun. You sigh quietly. You don't like seeing him in pain, but you have a job to do. You'll talk more later.

The car ride is quiet. You drive, Spencer sits in the passenger seat. The silence isn't exactly comfortable, but it isn't awkward. You roll down his window just a little, to give him the fresh air he so obviously needs. You take the time to theorize about the suspect. Will he even be at work? Will he run? Put up a fight? You hope not.

As you pull into the small, gravel parking lot of the construction company, you sit for a moment to prepare yourself to talk to whoever is managing the place. In your experience, people in this line of work aren't often eager to talk to FBI agents. You look over at Spencer, he must have put on his sunglasses when you weren't paying attention. He now looks a little less irritated without the sun in his eyes. Good. 

You gently place a hand on Spencer’s knee, catching his attention. “You ready to go?” 

He brushes his hand over yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Yep.”

You both step out of the car into the bright sun. The sunlight reflects off of tiny, glistening specks in the gravel, and right into your eyes. You squint as you head to the front entrance of the building alongside Spencer, now wishing you’d also brought your sunglasses.

The inside of the building is similar to the outside. Concrete, dusty, smelling strongly of diesel. You noticed how Spencer scrunched up his nose at the pungent scent. 

The only other person inside is an older man who introduces himself as Mark, the manager of the building. 

“You two are FBI? Really? Well what are you two doin’ out here?”

You ignore the man’s questioning of your authority. “We’re here to ask you a few questions about one of your employees, Cole Parker?”

“Ah. Well, he called in sick today, and I’m not one to judge, but he didn’t sound very sick on the phone. If you ask me, he’s ditching work to be with that new girlfriend of his.”

“Girlfriend?” Spencer asks. He glances over to you, the unsub had been killing young women. If Cole Parker was your guy, this new girlfriend of his could be in danger.

“Yeah. He’s been yammerin’ on about her for the past week. Her name is Carol… or Christine? Somethin’ like that. Hard to keep up. He gets tired of em’ fast.”

Interesting.

“Have you noticed any shifts in his behavior lately? Short temper, violent outbursts, things like that?”

“Hm. Y’know I’m really not sure, I’m not around him long enough to notice. Might be better to ask some of the guys. I can give you the address of the site they’re workin’ if you’d like.” He offers.

Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose again, his vision beginning to blur. “We’ve already got two other agents headed there right now, but thank you.” 

The man notices Spencer’s clear discomfort, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Fine, thanks.” He runs his hands through his hair anxiously, further tousling his already messy curls.

“Thank you for your cooperation, sir.” You hand him a card with your work phone number, “Please call me if you remember any important details about Cole.”

He puts the card into his shirt pocket. “Of course. Have a nice day, you two.” 

As you both exit the building, Spencer stops right outside the door, running his hands over his face with a sigh.

You turn to look at him with concern. “Spence-”

“I just need a minute. I’m fine. I’ll meet you in the car.” His eyes are squeezed shut as he faces the ground, rubbing his temples.

You respond with a quiet “okay”, and silently head back to the car, where you wait for him. You put the air conditioning on blast as you pull out your phone to call Hotch.

“Hotchner.” He answers quickly.

“Did you and Seaver find Cole?”

“Yes, we’re just about to bring him in for questioning. How’s it going over there?”

“His boss told us that he can’t keep a girlfriend for too long, always switching between girls. He didn’t notice any other odd behaviors though. We’re just about to leave.” You spot Spencer walking over to the car.

“Alright, thanks. See you at the precinct.” He hangs up the call.

Spencer slides into the passenger’s seat, looking slightly calmer than before. “Who was that?” 

“Hotch. Him and Seaver are bringing Cole Parker in for questioning.” You turn the air conditioning down a little, so it’s still cool but not as loud, not as irritating for Spencer.

“Good.” 

***

Spencer leans his head back on his seat and closes his eyes. The drive back is just as silent as the drive there. By the time you get to the police precinct, Spencer is half asleep. He opens his eyes slowly. Squinting at the light coming through the windshield, he turns his head towards you.

“Hi.” You huff out a small laugh, earning a small quirk of his lips. “Feeling a little better?”

“Mm.” He sighs with a nod, “a little, I’ll be fine.”

You reach over and comb your fingers through his hair, he leans into your touch. You fix a few stray hairs that stick out, then give him a peck on his cheek. “Let’s go.”

***

The lights in the precinct are bright, filled with the chatter of nosy police officers. They flock around the team as you all enter with both suspects. Hotch and Rossi take on the task of interrogating, with the rest of the team on standby if needed. You stand behind the two-way mirror with Seaver and Reid. You listen intently to every word, you note mannerisms, you profile. That is your job after all.

Cole is becoming frustrated after only thirty minutes of interrogation. Hotch stays calm and collected as Cole’s volume rises. 

“I’m telling you! I was nowhere near there! I was out with some guys from work. Ask ‘em, they’ll tell you.”

“We did. They all had pretty different stories. We also got security camera feeds from the alley that night. Are you telling me that isn’t you?” Hotch slides a grainy photo across the table. The lighting is dark and the quality is less than ideal, but it’s clearly Cole in the photo.

He groans and mumbles something under his breath, “those bitches deserved it.”

“Pardon me?” Hotch prompts him to repeat himself.

“I said they deserved it! Every last one!” He yanks hard at the cuffs grounding him to the table, lunging at Hotch.

Hotch doesn’t move a muscle. “Alright, that’s enough.” He nods to the two officers standing at the back of the room. They move to restrain the man and bring him to a holding cell.

You look up at Spencer, who at first glance, seems fine, like he’s just thinking. But you notice his glassy eyes and flushed face. He tries to inconspicuously shield his eyes from the flickering fluorescent light above his head. Seaver notices this too, she gives you an “is he okay?” look, you give her a shrug and a worried look that says “I have no idea.” She exits the room to go check on Rossi and the others, leaving you and Reid alone.

You hover beside him, not wanting to worsen his pain any more. After a few moments of watching him silently suffer, you hear a sniffle. He’s crying. You get a sinking feeling in your chest, all you want is for him to be okay. 

“Spence,” you whisper. No response. “Do you want to sit down? I can get you some water,” you offer kindly. 

He shakes his head, massaging his temples again.

“Are you sure? The case is pretty much wrapped up. I’m sure Hotch wouldn’t mind.” Your voice stays soft, gentle.

He raises his voice “God, I’m fine! It’s fine! Nothing will help, just… Just stop trying to help me. I don’t need help.” You spot him wiping a tear from his face as he storms out of the room.

You don’t follow. Maybe he needs some time alone. You respect his wishes. You don’t help. Though you’d really, really like to. Instead, you follow Seaver’s trail to the second interrogation room where Rossi is still digging deep into the other suspect’s mind. You watch through the two-way mirror.

“Really, Landon? Were you really stopped on the side of that road for a nap? You were on your way home, weren’t you? Why not wait until you got back?”

“I was tired. I didn’t want to fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Alright. You’re sure you didn’t see anything suspicious? No … man lugging around a woman’s corpse? Burying her?”

“No, man! I was sleeping!” He throws his hands up in the air, as much as one can while cuffed to a table. He sighs defeatedly.

Hotch slides past you and into the interrogation room. He lets Rossi know that while he’d been interrogating, Cole Parker had fully confessed to the murders. He spared no detail, including  ones the police and FBI hadn’t yet shared with the public.

Rossi gives Landon a half-hearted apology and a pat on the back as the officers uncuff him.

***

You help Hotch to get a written confession from Cole, which takes longer than usual, because his handwriting skills aren’t exactly the best. But you sit in the room with him, waiting, as he drops the occasional rude comment directed towards you, his victims, or the police.

While sitting silently, you think about Spencer. You wonder if he’s okay. You think about what he said. He doesn’t need help from you. He doesn't want help from you. Leave him alone for once.

You shake the thought out of your head. He’s in pain. He didn’t mean it. This does little to ease the anxiety spinning in your mind.

“Hey, lady. I’m done writing.” He drops the pen down onto the metal table with just enough force to express his annoyance.

“Good. Did you sign it?” 

“Of course I did. What? Do you think I’m stupid or something?” He’s clearly looking for a fight.

Unamused, you respond. “No. I think you’re a serial killer with a severe lack of respect for women. I was just checking. A lot of people forget.” You slide the paper towards yourself and look it over before placing it into a file folder. You give a nod to the officers in the room and they take him away. You leave the room after them, meeting up with the rest of the team except Spencer, who’d reluctantly gone home per Hotch’s instruction. Thank goodness someone else noticed.

Hotch pulls you aside for a moment. “I wouldn’t mind if you left to help Reid. There’s not much left for us to do today anyway. You’re free to go.”

You hesitate. He doesn’t want help. He doesn’t need you. 

“Okay. Thanks Hotch.” You give him a faint smile as you go to grab your things.

***

Instead of heading to Spencer’s apartment, you go to yours. You want to check up on him, but don’t want to pain him with a blaring ringtone, and he was most likely staying away from screens, so he wouldn’t see a text. You keep him in your thoughts as you change out of your work clothes and settle down for the night. 

***

Spencer lies on his bed in complete darkness. At this point, the pain had brought him to tears. He hadn’t eaten anything due to the nausea looming in his stomach, which only made the headache worse.

He needed something. A distraction. Nothing loud. Nothing bright. Nothing that would irritate him further. He wanted you. He needed you.

He thinks back to what he said to you earlier. Why would I say that? Well, he knew why he said it. Scientifically. Higher sensitivity, more pain, more irritability, this leads to outbursts. He just wanted it to stop. He didn’t mean to yell at you.

He sighs, shifting to be face-down in his pillow. He just wants to feel okay. Why won’t it stop? What’s wrong with me? A pained whine escapes him as he decides to try to get some rest. 

***

Your phone’s ringtone pulls you out of your sleep. You grab it from your nightstand, checking the time first. Who’s calling me at 12:30am? Spencer. You answer with some hesitation, anxiety still whirrs in your mind, residue from hours ago. 

“Spence?”

“I really- I’m really sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it. And I know that’s not a good excuse but-” His voice is quieter than usual, strained.

“I know you didn’t mean it. You weren’t acting like… you. I was worried.”

“I said I didn’t need help but I’m um- really rethinking that right now. And I’d completely understand if you didn’t want to but um- could you maybe come over? I just really want someone here with me. I want you here with me.” 

You could tell from his voice that he was still hurting, he was scared. You get up without a second thought. 

“Of course, Spence. I’ll be right over.”

He sighs with relief. “Thank you.” 

***

Spencer hears the lock on his door click as you enter. He stays right where he is, in bed. 

You walk in as quietly as you can, leaving your shoes at the door and trying your best to navigate around in the dark. You nudge his bedroom door open and whisper a quiet “I’m here” as you spot the outline of him in his bed.

He sits up slowly with a small hum of acknowledgement. “Hi.” He reaches to turn on the lamp beside his bed.

“No, don’t, you don’t need to turn it on. It’s fine.” You reassure him. “Do you want me to get you anything? Water? Meds?”

“Both, please. Meds are on the kitchen counter.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in two seconds.” You head to the kitchen, spotting the meds once you turn on the lights. You fill a glass with ice, then water, grab the box of meds, then rush right back to Spencer’s room, turning off the kitchen lights as you leave.

You carefully hand him the glass of water, he thanks you, then takes a long sip. You hand him two tablets of his meds, and he swallows them with the water.

“You want to try to get some sleep?”

He nods, “Yeah, but these usually take about half an hour to kick in, hopefully they do kick in. I’ll probably be able to sleep then.” Your eyes have now adjusted to the dark, you can see him give you a small smile.

“You want me to stay?”

“I’d really like it if you did.”

“Alright, move over then.” You don’t wait to slide into bed next to him. It warms your heart to hear him giggle slightly from this.

***

Your next hour is spent with Spencer curled up to your chest, with your fingers carding through his hair. The room is silent, save for your breathing and the sighs he lets out every so often. You stay awake until you’re sure he’s asleep, then for a little while longer, just to make sure. Finally, you can’t keep your eyes open any longer, and you’re pulled into a calm sleep. You hope that when you wake up, everything will be okay. And it will be. Because it always is with Spencer.

Thank you for reading! <3

Feedback is very much appreciated!

My requests are open!

🪻

[dotthings]

It took 1000 fake Deans until brainwashed Cas could kill a fake Dean without hesitation, and when it comes to the real thing he absolutely cannot. Naomi knows Cas’s personal attachment to Dean, she had to use 1000 fake Deans after all, she knows, yet she completely underestimated how strong Cas’s love is. Kind of like how Amara really thought her thrall over Dean would be stronger than Dean’s love for Cas.

“If he’s so sketchy, why were you praying to him?” Yeah Dean, why is that? And Dean’s so WORRIED about Cas. He knows something is off, and that there are unanswered questions as to how Cas got out of Purgatory. Cas can be ruthless and impulsive but this detached, cold version isn’t right and Dean knows it. He just wants Cas to be Cas and to be okay.

“If you’re in there and you can hear me, you don’t have to do this”

“This isn’t right” “I won’t hurt Dean”

“Cas, fight this, this is not you”

“What have you done to me”

The intercutting of Dean trying to reach brainwashed Cas and brainwashed Cas pushing back against Naomi’s influence is *chef’s kiss*

“I fixed you”/“I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own–by cutting it out.” Naomi and Ishim and their resentment of the love between Dean and Cas. Angels treating it like an abomination, a blasphemy, a disease, something broken in Cas, something that needs to be cured. The conversion therapy metaphor could not be louder.

“You want it? Take it. But you’re going to have to kill me first. Come on, you coward. Do it!” I know Dean is fairly clueless about the depth of Cas’s feelings for him, but some part of him knows because he deliberately goads brainwashed Cas. He knows something’s very wrong and the way through is to force Cas to the wall, to get through to Cas to break Cas free. Because Dean does know on some level. Dean believes Cas won’t be able to kill him. Dean knows. Dean believes.

“Cas. It’s me. We’re family. We need you. I need you.” It’s the “it’s me” that tips me off how much Dean actually knows. It’s not just an abstract idea to Dean about Cas being good, he does, somewhere in his brain, understand it’s about himself, too. That they have a particular connection. It’s me.

reciprocates for a long time. I think for Dean to say “I love you” at this point would have been too soon, for Dean to express it in those exact words. Cas wasn’t ready either. He shows it other ways, just like Dean shows it other ways. But it’s there. It’s as good as said. And Dean didn’t have to add the “I need you”—note the progression of we/familial terms to very specific “I.” It’s a big deal Dean says Cas is family, but he already said as much in late S6 and so the actual revelatory thing here is “I need you.”

“You have to choose, Castiel. Us or them.” Oooooh such suspense we just don’t know what Cas will choose!!! It is interesting Naomi uses the plural pronoun “them” when we know this is most of all about Dean.

Cas stops, he drops the angel blade first. And only then picks up the angel tablet. “What broke the connection.” Clueless idiots in love.

Dean only asks one thing. For Cas to stop.

It’s so unhinged that even after all that, when Cas reaches out to Dean to heal him, Dean still panics and doesn’t understand Cas won’t hurt him. Even after Dean’s faith that when it came down to it, Cas won’t be able to kill him, and he was proven right when Cas stopped and he dropped the angel blade. Dean contains multitudes. And it’s so unhinged that even after all that, after Cas gently put his whole palm tenderly against Dean’s cheek when he could have healed Dean with a finger to his forehead, even after the gentleness of Cas’s regrets and sincere apology and them talking out how Naomi had been controlling Cas, even after all that, Cas still thinks he has to go this alone and he has to keep the angel tablet safe by himself and he vanishes. Running from Dean again.

The most requited unrequited mutual pining love story. Cas is the repressed one who quietly painfully pines and his heart keeps breaking through, past the uncanny remote angelic surface, past the constant running away, he shows how deeply in love he is with Dean. Dean wears his heart on his sleeve and he is loud af and is in love with what he thinks is an unattainable object and who could blame him for not comprehending his love is returned. Cas is so often running away.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Favorite Season 6 fics

So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)

Season 6

🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.

🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)

🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @lonelychicago (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone

🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for

🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

AUs

🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]

🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):

collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?

that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.

something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

i've been rewatching wwdits in order (i can't let go yet, okay!) and am currently in season three, and it got me thinking about how i think the end of s6 is such a rewarding happy ending for nandor that really resonates with the rest of the series. i know that in the finale, the characters are making the argument that nothing ever changes and the ending's not significant, but i think what we actually see with nandor, especially in his relationship to guillermo, is really the opposite.

disclaimer: i would have loved overt canon nandermo, so i definitely understand the pain of us not getting that. however, this post just focuses on what actually happened in the last few eps rather than what wwdits could have done instead!

some thoughts on why i love this ending for mr. de laurentis so much--

so, from the start of the show, we sort of have the two "couples" in the house with laszlo/nadja and nandor/guillermo. we can see that nandor has an unusual attachment to guillermo as a familiar even from the start, because laszlo and nadja go through familiars like kleenex, whereas nandor and guillermo have their funny little bickering marrieds thing going. however, nandor can't admit how much he cares about guillermo or how much his companionship means, because guillermo is his familiar and that's humiliating!

we also see nandor struggle a lot with a sense of purposelessness (especially after colin breaks his world view in 3.04!) and we see him missing his warlord life constantly even though it's been centuries since that was his reality.

and he usually decides he's going to fix his guillermo crises and his existential crises by going all in on some new love interest!!!!!!

then the guide gives him the talk where she points out his pattern, and even though he ostensibly wasn't listening, maybe it managed to permeate his single brain cell on some level, because his commitment to guillermo at the end of 6.10 isn't about the chase, it's about a long-term commitment. "an unbreakable alliance." (and then they seal it with a hand clasp that really just smacks of ~victory~ to me as a gesture!)

charmaine's advice (telling nandor to tell his crush who he has new feelings for how he feels) doesn't work out with the guide ... but it does work out when he ✨proposes✨ his plan to guillermo and tells guillermo he's the thing that nandor holds in the highest esteem possible: a warrior. (and this after guillermo told nandor that nandor made him never feel good enough. nandor does not like to listen when his patterns are pointed out to him -- see aforementioned scene with the guide -- but he did this time, and tried to make up for it quickly!)

nandor also manages to find a middle ground where he and guillermo can meet: fighting bad guys together. and we see from "nandor's army" that he still has epic warlord skills, just like guillermo has epic slaying skills, and this gives them the space to both be thriving in a shared purpose, after having purpose-related existential crises all season!

guillermo is skeptical that nandor's really going to commit and change, as expressed in the shared talking head in 6.11, and he figures he'll be saddled with all the work, but we find out at the end that nandor has committed so hard that -- in addition to all his drawings and diagrams and his silly costume shopping -- he somehow managed to make that two-person coffin elevator into a secret underground lair a reality?!?!?! (i like to think maybe guillermo will be more into the idea of their partnership in a post-"omg the coffin elevator actually exists" world.)

"you can call me nandor." that is all. <3

nandor's also, ultimately, willing to let guillermo go after a season that was full of pain over letting guillermo go, and he does it calmly and simply and without flinging any guilt-tripping guillermo's way. it is a peak "if you love something, let it go, and it will come back to you" moment. and then, of course, guillermo comes back like immediately. :) and is welcomed into the coffin, and the future adventures that the camera won't be there to catch!

anyway! this is all just a bunch of nonsense rambling, but my point is, i think the recurring loneliness and dissatisfaction that we see nandor grapple with throughout the series is something that is finally over once he commits proudly to a life with guillermo fighting the good fight (whatever shape that might take in the future, since who knows how long the superheroes thing will be the vibe). he needed to overtly acknowledge what guillermo meant to him, to himself and to guillermo and to everyone else, because pushing it down was part of what was keeping him consistently miserable, and once he's done that, he doesn't have to go looking for purpose in a cliche romantic happily ever after (and indeed, he seems totally checked out when the gang talk to him about being in love with the guide toward the start of 6.11). he has it in his unbreakable alliance, wherever that may go! 💘

[raayllum]

evidence for Rayllum proposal at the end of S7?

re: this post because I'm nothing if not a clown that's Committed, and given that 3x09 didn't do the "couple gets together" as the big finale gesture, and instead had it be their first "I love you," and that they're fully back together 2/3rds through S6, it feels like another relationship upgrade of some manner is on its way to close out arc 2. So here's why it could be a proposal (or something close to it, anyway)

1) The boat date scene

Back before S6 there was a leaked split second clip from Bardel's animation website featuring Stella and all three Baitlings seemingly juggling adoraburrs and singing, respectively.

Given the fact that the Baitlings were there, I'd speculated that it would not actually happen in S6, but instead be reserved for S7. Now that we know that's true as S6 came and went with lots of trauma and no rose boat date scene, I wanna take another crack at things. This is of course operating under the assumption that this boat is for a cute scene for Rayla and Callum (and not anyone else) and that it isn't interrupted by the Plot (or not entirely).

Given that S7 opens so intensely per the spoilers from NYCC, the only places I could see the season having room for this cute/fluffy is 1) on the trip to the Silvergrove as a way to offset nerves / after the trial has gone okay but before they know Aaravos is out, maybe or 2) at the end of the season once everything is over as one of the final Rayllum scenes in the arc, if not their last real one (think 3x09 "i love you" for scene focus versus their smaller handhold moments in the antechamber with Zubeia and everyone else). For the sake of this meta, I'm also assuming it's the second one.

There's the fact that there's roses and a cute little display of 2 of their specific animal companions, the starling birds collected across the course of S7 presumably. Putting a romantic date for them on a boat (presumably planned by Callum) may seem odd for someone like Rayla, but I believe it could be a cute call back / opportunity for reflection to the first time they really bonded in 1x05. Something like this, basically.

Additionally, as noted it'd set up a relationship upgrade (especially when s7 would've challenged them to their absolute limit and mutual devotion towards each other) that reflects the ways they've grown older and more mature,

2) Parallels to other married couples

Rayllum having the most parallels to other couples in the show isn't new, and is understandable as their amount of screentime as a couple and as characters allows a ton of parallels with other couples and characters. However, what we do see in arc 2 is an emphasis on marriage in ways that wasn't there before from both Harrow (+ Sarai) and particularly with Janaya and Ruthari.

So she sailed north, forgoing a man who'd have made her his bride

[ Mild 7x01 spoilers: Runaan emphasizes that he made a promise to "the elf he loves," his husband, and Rayla reiterates in kind that she made a promise to "the human [she] loves," putting Callum in her life on the same level as Runaan puts his spouse. Callum expresses that he's hesitant to go and check on Katolis because he doesn't want to be separated from Rayla again. ]

Arc 2 beginning with a proposal (Janaya) and ending with one would be a nice bookend in addition to contributing to previous themes of elf-human unification, as Xadia will likely be brought together further in the efforts to defeat Aaravos.

S7 is also primed to reaffirm 1) their immense desire to stick together and not be separated and 2) their deep, encompassing love for each other. In notions to future seasons, we may get to see where the two will decide to live, either rebuilding Katolis, travelling Xadia for magical reasons, or even the Silvergrove if they admit the wrong they've done to Rayla. Emphasizing that they want to be together and be together permanently, then, could be done through a proposal, being a relationship upgrade after a particularly tumultuous time, and because they will likely be even older in Arc 3 (early 20s at the youngest, and possibly more).

At the end of the day, though, I truly believe that some form of Rayllum proposal will happen

3) In spirit if nothing else

While it may not outright be a horn cuff presentation and popping the question, with all the above, I think some form of "We're staying together, no matter what" / "Where you go, I go" etc is happening almost by default in the S7 finale. The two need a closing moment together, and given that S4 opened with them separated, with respect to their arc throughout S4-S7 in addition to previous seasons, proving that their closeness with one another is strong and real and permanent this time, I think, is important and kind of inevitable. So if not a proposal, then something 'proposal lite' that doubles as being basically marriage vows in terms of devotion/romanticism, even if they aren't directly.

And honestly, I kinda can't wait for it!

[explosionshark]

re: the tara and faith s6 rebound hookup, Buffy would be so mad about it but insist it’s only because she feels bad for willow and tara “deserves better”

Okay sorry this took ages to answer and I'm gonna be repeating some of what I said on the tags of @btvs3x21's post buuut

I do think Faith and Tara would be a really good friendship bc they are so specifically calibrated to be compatible in ways that are incidental but SO compelling. they're super different in personality (which I think is a good thing re: comparability lmao) but they have the crucial shared background of being dykes from abusive families. Moreover I really think they stand to benefit from the fact that Tara doesn't really have a history with Faith and she's generally really patient and accepting and genuinely kind in a way I think would be extremely disarming for Faith's natural defensiveness. Like, Faith would no doubt still act out a bit, but I think her tendency to take things too far would be curbed by Tara not really provoking Faith in turn.

Anyway I could definitely see a solid mutually protective friendship growing out of all of that + the shared experience of being sort of on the fringes of Scoobydom. They're part of the group by virtue of proximity and ties to the others, but they'll never be part of The Group. Anyway the relationship would be baffling to the others bc (reminder: I love them) the Scoobies are all kind of self-absorbed jerks at heart who would not be able to really understand anyone outside of their core group having relationships and connections as deep as theirs that exist outside of their dynamic with each other.

ANYWAY - Faith takes Tara's side in the breakup, of course. Perhaps they crash together, perhaps not but there's absolutely at least one instance of comfort sex/rebounding (I think they'd ultimately want to keep it platonic) that they're both at least relatively chill about

LITERALLY everyone else would absolutely fucking hate it though. Xander on Willow's behalf and also bc he's still got it out for Faith (as is his right!). Dawn bc THAT'S HER MOMS THEY'RE ON A BREAK RIGHT NOW BUT WHAT THE FUCK. Willow for obvious reasons. Buffy though?

I mean OBVIOUSLY she's pissed off for Willow. And ISN'T THIS JUST CLASSIC FAITH. TO HOOK UP WITH YOUR EX AND/OR CURRENT S/O. She kneeeeew this would make waves in Buffy's friend group too, she knew it. And of course she didn't care that this would wreak havoc on Buffy's life too, that was probably actually a bonus for her.

Also WHAT so she's ACTUALLY into women? All those comments weren't just like. Intended to get under Buffy's skin? She actually meant it? She actually fucks women? (How?) She's for real gay or bisexual or whatever? (This whole time?) Not that there's anything wrong with that but like - wow okay. WHATEVER obviously Buffy's not bothered by THAT okay it's just - Willow's girlfriend? Right after they break up? It's so tacky. It's literally so sleazy. And what she's into blondes? Okay. Like, it actually wouldn't be too far out of the question if she like planned this a little bit actually to get on Buffy's nerves, she's always doing stuff like that. Like. You know it just seems like something she would think. Classic Faith. Ugh. What a skeeze.

[asraindarkness]

If it’s okay, not necessarily BuckTommy but -

This season feels SO weird. It’s even weirder because for the first time they had a long time to plan it - they knew they were renewed for a Season 8 early into Season 7. So much so that, for the first time, they let the season end with a cliffhanger. Multiple, even.

And they they dropped all of them in a rushed and unsatisfactory way. If they didn’t want S7’s plots to continue on to 8, they could’ve ended them in S7. Never bring Ortiz or Gerard back. But instead, they went with the oddest choice and created a nice cliffhanger, only to disappoint pretty much everyone.

But for me it’s more than that. It’s also the way the characters don’t always feel like them. You’re telling me Buck never went into a deep dive about queer history or rights when he discovered he’s bi?? that Maddie would make the making men gay comment?? that Chimney wouldn’t talk to Hen about the possible second pregnancy?? I could go on and on.

And the dynamics also feel… broken. We barely have friendship moments, at all. Buddie this season feels weird, like Eddie doesn’t really want to be bothered by Buck. Hen and Chim are barely communicating. The firefam doesn’t have moments outside of emergencies (save that montage of them asking Bobby for help).

It feels like the writers have stopped knowing how to write these characters and their dynamics. And for me the found family that I fell in love with at first watch feels gone, you know?

i’ve been saying this since s6!

like aren’t they tried of keep writing buck the same all the time??? he doesn’t get promoted on his job that he’s fucking good at it, they had a kind of story about it when buck wanted to be captain in s6 and then bridge fall happened and buck was a fucking powerhouse in it and i thought they finally gonna show buck more that just a young goofy firefighter that thinks on his feet, show them he’s a leader but then they dropped it.

he doesn’t get into lasting relationship and is always chasing one and apparently now he’s gonna forget his character’s growth and gonna be right back in s1. it’s like buck’s always gonna be the boyish bratt they made in s1 when he was 25/6 not a 33yo man!

eddie can’t fucking move on for 6/7 years and tries constantly to make a mom out of everything woman he dates but now a confession and a random priest apparently healed him like he was possessed not fucking mentally traumatized!

madney are most of the times are dealing with doug that comes out like random jump scares. maddie had 2 stories last season both was about her trauma with him. yes you can’t heal from something like that for a long time or possibly never but for god’s sake that woman raised his brother as his own child when she was still a child herself and what did 911 do with this part of her? NOTHING

and you don’t need me talk about hemren’s endless suffering

and where is athena’s children???

it’s been a mess since s6 but now it’s wors cuz tim starts writing 5 minutes before they start shooting. i said it 100 times the only thing good about s7 was buck’s bi arc. they make a big deal out of problems and solve them in most childish ways in the same episode!

i know it’s basically a soap opera but ffs it’s not a fantasy. they pulled dead wife no.2 cuz it’s a soap but in what word a child can land a plane?

honestly after i reed that tim rewatched the whole thing before writing for bi buck i was sure the show gonna back to its root where chim and hen are besties and hen and athena spend time together etc etc, but apparently all he got from that is abby had a boyfriend named tommy

[reiding-writing]

Hello!

I don't know if your 3k event is still open but could I possibly ask for Boyband!Reid with the dialogue prompt "How many fingers am I holding up? ... I don't have six fingers" and the trope of admiring their facial features and seeing not just the outer structure but the person that they are?

Thank you so much and make sure to look after yourself!

HEAD IN HAND. /spencer reid/

“How many fingers am I holding up? ... I don't have six fingers,”

admiring their facial features and seeing not just the outer structure but the person that they are.

s6! spencer x fem!reader 0.7k h/c event masterlist. main masterlist.

You blink slowly, the world tilting in and out of focus like you’re watching it through a warped lens. Your head throbs in slow, insistent pulses, and you can feel the sharp sting of something wet at your temple. Blood, probably. Or sweat. Maybe both. You’re too disoriented to tell the difference.

The room spins when you try to move, so you stop moving. Good plan. Better to stay still. But then you feel a hand—a familiar hand—cradling the side of your face, guiding you with careful, deliberate tenderness.

“Hey, hey, eyes open, that’s it,” Reid murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. You focus on the sound because it’s steadier than your surroundings, more familiar. More real.

You blink again and catch a flash of his face—the sharp curve of his jawline, the faint freckle near the corner of his mouth, the way his hair, damp from the rain, curls slightly at the ends. It sticks to his forehead in unruly waves, framing the wide-eyed panic he’s trying to suppress.

His brows pinch together, and he lets out a shaky breath, eyes flickering over you like he’s cataloging every scrape and bruise. He lifts his hand in front of your face. You can’t tell if he’s trembling or if your vision is just playing tricks on you.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” His voice is gentle but firm, trying to anchor you.

You squint at the blurred edges of his fingers. They swim together in your vision, doubling and doubling again until the answer is a confused mumble:

“Six?”

Reid’s mouth quirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He exhales a sharp breath that’s almost a laugh but not quite. The sound is too tight, too worried.

“...I don’t have six fingers,” he says softly, and you can hear the careful levity in his voice—the desperate attempt to keep things light when everything feels heavy.

Your eyes drift back to his face. You can’t help it. Even as the pain pulses behind your eyes, your gaze clings to him. To the slant of his nose, slightly crooked from that time he broke it years ago. To the fullness of his lower lip, bitten raw from nerves. To the faint lines at the corners of his eyes that only show up when he smiles—the ones you trace in your mind, wondering how many more you’ll get to see form over the years.

“You’re staring at me,” He mutters.

And you don’t just see his face—you see him. The way he furrows his brow when he’s explaining something too fast, only to circle back and make sure you’re following. The way he tucks his hair behind his ears when he’s nervous. The way his eyes soften when you’re tired, or frustrated, or just existing near him. You see the way he always reaches for your hand last—after everyone else—just to give you one final squeeze before letting go.

You sigh wistfully. “Yeah,”

His thumb brushes over your temple, smudging away blood or sweat or maybe nothing at all, just a gesture to soothe. You feel his palm against your cheek, steady and warm. His hand lingers there, longer than it should. You think you might be imagining it.

“Hey,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly, his lips tugging into the smallest smile. “You’re gonna be okay,”

You try to laugh, but it comes out more like a breath. And for a moment, you forget about the pain, because you’re too busy looking at him, seeing him, and wondering how you never realised he was so beautiful.

[is-on-its-way]

My very definitely insane but perhaps accurate theory on Samuel (né William) Mulder's paternity.

(sorry but william scully doesnt have the same ring to it lalala)

okay so we know from the first ep in s6 that humanity has some latent alien DNA, and some people have that DNA activated? turned on? idk ykwim. Think gibson and that stigmata boy from air bud. My theory on mulder and scully is as follows:

Mulder has latent alien dna stronger than most people.

Scully (and her family possibly just the female members) has latent alien dna stronger than most people and also mulder.

Mulder's symptoms: he has a BA in psych from Oxford but his intuition on the causes of cases and perp motivations and [] are almost certainly due to the fact he has a connection with them, in some way mind reading adjacent. Like he gets a feeling in his stomach about what the situation is and goes with what he and scully would call intuition. there are plenty of funny as hell memes on this site about this. So it follows easily that when his DNA gets activated he is overwhelmed by everyones thoughts, Buffy Summers in Earshot style.

Scully's symptoms: she sees dead people... lol but honestly she sees her dad in season 1, she sees the dead multiple times in Elegy and it's not an omen of death bc she lived. She sees her daughter multiple times. She also sees a legit angel, and a demon or devil however you want to look at it, and I would argue an alien spirit? (old dude in amor fati) who maybe has been on earth waiting for the "chosen one" since his space ship landed in the garden of eden... (lol thats my most favorite of all my unhinged head canons)

Im gonna add the other scully's too

Maggie: she has prophetic dreams or feelings about things that are going wrong

Missy: girl is straight up tied into other realities and knows it and embraces it. I find it such good characterisation how her family treats this, that scully is shown to be scared of this and completely ignores the fact she is also tied into this ability.

----

onto the paternity...

My unorthodox theory is that CSM had nothing to do with healing scully. Or magically giving her ovum out of nothing. En ami could technically be lifted right out, bc ew assault, or just disregard or believe csm was lying about the extra stuff cc retconned in the revival.

Enter the alien spaceship in cote d'ivore from the amor fati trilogy...

so Mulder touched an etching of a part of the ship and had his shit rocked (alien DNA activated) which begs the question, what would happen to Scully being that she actually touched the actual ship?

my theory? The ship has some sort of mystical power. If I was super spiritual or Melissa Scully id argue the ship gives what you deserve. In amor fati we see it bring back to life a bag of shrimps, zombify a dead man, and boil people like ocean soup.

Why then would we not assume scully touching the ship didn’t activate her very obvious not really latent, alien DNA? And what did she deserve? oh the world, but also to be healed. of cancer, and whatever those men did to her reproductive system.

Now you might say well mulder got superpowers but scully didnt? you said she was more powerful than mulder... and to that dear reader, I submit she did get an extra alien ability. We see the alien bounty hunter have all kinds of abilities, including healing mulders mother on her deathbed. I think Scully got that ability in addition to her old seeing ghosts thing.

The evidence? So, mulder on his deathbed, metal halo of faux thorns is dying of overactive alien abilities, his brain juices or something were transferred into that weird old man, but even I, a layman has trouble understanding how this would cure him of his overactive alien abilities. unless every bit of his Cerebrospinal fluid had been drained, which he'd actually probably just die, there is no way that surgery cured him of anything.

Enter Scully and the literal fairytale-esque tear on his face that wakes him from his sleeping-beauty slumber, and seemingly cures him all in one go. I posit Scully is now a healer on top of her ghostly abilities. but being terrified of the paranormal within her and possibly not knowing how to work them mulder is her only one, thus far.

So yeah, the ship cured her infertility and activated more latent alien abilities in her DNA, and she's so highly evolved she doesn't have the poor reaction to it that mulder does. Samuel Mulder or whatever you want to call him was their biological child with alien superpowers because both of them had activated alien abilities when they conceived him.

Anyway CSM has never been anything but pathetically inconsequential to me. So much so I think hes the one who is infertile. I could probably rant about it, but will spare you that for now... all I'll say is senator matheson is who mulders dad will always be to me. They look SO similar, the jawlines? Hello?

And so i rest my case.

[irrealisms]

now that youve started doing a bit of mcrp yourself, has this changed at all how you look at/think about or interact with lifesteal? or no?

honestly the #1 way it has changed how i watch lifesteal is that-- having played on a lower-than-10 heart count it is so much scarier to watch people playing on low hearts? the difference between ... abstractly knowing that being on low hearts is harder and scarier to play but basically used to watching people play and be fine on as few as 3 hearts, and "holy shit being on 6 hearts is Terrifying Actually"

some of this is just that i'm much worse at minecraft than most lifestealers ! but, hm, one thing this recontextualized for me to some extent was the decision to make crafted hearts in s6 only go up to 7-- for me at least, seven hearts is where i really start feeling like i have to be careful and where i notice myself having close calls and near-death experiences just in normal play if i'm not careful enough. 8 or 9 i'm still basically chilling. 6 or 7 i am going Oh This World Is Scary Actually. being on seven hearts, i feel it. i knew before playing divorcesteal that lifesteal went for that as a rule to incentivize more killing/heart trades/etc rather than ppl just being content with crafted hearts but having played with 7 hearts i feel like I Get It Now on a different level? playing on 7 hearts puts "oh i NEED more hearts" in my soul in a way that playing on 10 hearts doesn't really. this is less about "doing mcrp" really and more about "having played on a server with the lifesteal plugin" but it's still about divorcesteal changing how i see lifesteal so i'm counting it

uhhhhh. i was kinda nervous that if i actually Did mcrp i'd have different/stricter feelings on fanworks than i thought? but in fact if anything they are more permissive. every day i think about di!will's sex life and ponder various headcanons people could write about with her. i do think "i'm not Actually Famous" changes a lot but, hm, i am more confident in saying that the thing that would upset me would just be the fame and not specific fanworks or headcanons or anything?

WAIT okay i have one that is actually directly "changed how i think about lifesteal"--so as a fan sometimes i tease CCs for knowing less about the stuff they were involved in than i do, or having ~inaccurate views of or guesses about the people who they actually know and are friends with? i've done this in ~every mcrp fandom i've been into lol, and i'm not into life series directly but i saw a lot of that recently with the quizbot! but something divorcesteal has thrown into sharp relief for me is how much .... if they're playing an rp where streamsniping isn't allowed, it's actually really really incredibly hard to know things about literally anyone else. especially as someone coming in late, i haven't talked to a lot of divorcestealers on the server, i know very very little about their characters and motives and feelings and plans, and most people have reasons not to tell me or even to actively mislead me (or, even when they are trying to honestly tell me what happened, ppl might tell a ~biased version of events bc they don't know everything, or forget that i don't have various pieces of context, or...). i'm busy wrapped up in my own stuff, and they're wrapped up in their own stuff, and since i can't watch other ppl's povs i only get tiny bits and pieces of it. (also it's harder to motivate myself for large-scale vodwatching, even of streams i am allowed to watch--i'll sometimes watch vods when i have laptop/phone access but not desktop access, but often if i'm thinking about divorcesteal and motivated to do more divorcesteal stuff, i'm more likely to log on instead of watching a video about it!) so, to ccs everywhere: sorry for teasing you guys! it is, actually, way harder to know everything about a server you're a part of than a server you watch!!!

[panelshowsource]

my IMMEDIATE thought is judi love, right?? her and roisin 1000% not even one show each, A SHOW WITH THEM TOGETHER 😍 and it's called JUDI & ROISIN'S DOUBLE DATES 😍

hahahaha absolutely! do you remember the stationary shop / pun guessing task that tim vine did on taskmaster s6? i always thought victoria would have enjoyed every single thing about that, just my intuition...

hahahaha this is so cute! they got married not to terribly long ago, so no worries. don't you love how sweetly they speak about each other 🥹 you know, when i saw richard at his last book signing in new york, he told a quick story about how ingrid had recently written for a doctor who publication and that she is super engrossed in & proud of the doctor who world 🥹🥹🥹 (made me so happy!!! bc i'm also a massive dw fan (i make those gifs on my main!) 🥹)

this is my modest richard and ingrid tag 🥹 i hope to flesh it out even more over time hehe

yes i've been listening to these!! they keep teasing a nish kumar one coming up that is supposed to be very special in some way?

anyways the richard osman one was very sweet because there was tons of kitten talk (LOVE) and you can tell how much richard adores david — which means he had a lot of fun teasing him hahaha that's what makes richard such a good podcast guest: he's such a comedy fan!

also enjoyed the eps with ivo and sam campbell, and i'm gonna listen to at least ed gamble, rose matafeo, and amy gledhill this weekend!

are you guys liking it??

i've def seen it (i saw the comedy blogs advertising the pilot) but i'm gonna be sooo honest and say i haven't had time to give it a listen yet TT have you?? i'm obsessed with both of them and will DEF listen to it this week! i'll post my thoughts :)

honestly, i think there are more comedy writers and comedy actors than proper comedians that i would like to read bios of. simon pegg comes to mind first! i also think it would be fascinating to read a kind of day-by-day journal of a proper circuit comedian, someone who could humorously and truthfully document the lifestyle. did you have someone in mind who hasn't written one?

as for books that are already published, i really want to read bonkers by jen saunders as well as richard e grant's semi-new autobiography (i'm worried it's going to be exceptionally sad since he'll always be dealing with the passing of his wife and he's very open about grief 🥺), so hopefully i get around to those before too long!

i haven't, tbh i never watched miranda, not going out, or even call the midwife — so even though i've obviouslyyy seen her around, sometimes on panel shows, and absolutely acknowledge how big she was/is, i don't carry enough nostalgia to read her whole bio. THAT SAID, i agree she was so so touching on graham norton and i think her stories both about her health and about finding love were SO LOVELY 💜 but if you tell me it's a must read then i'll definitely check it out!

and for anyone who's interested i added the audiobook to my drive :)

okay this scared me HAHAHA because as much as that is obviously not true if one uses a single modicum of common sense i am so easily fooled—

anyways it was a sweet episode! i don't really listen to that show but i was hoping to hear more about joe's particular approach to parenting, and even though he is clearly very private it was endearing. i love how much he loves birmingham (as someone who doesn't really have a hometown it's something i'm always fascinated by and envious of in others), and he really put his foot down about his sexuality! he was like "bi is bi, pan is pan, it's on you if you wanted to call me gay anyways" and PERIOD KING !! anyways, super happy for him. i have a feeling he won't post very much about it or even talk much about it in general, but i selfishly hope he does 🥹

it was a cute episode!! highlights for me include rob being extremely new to the concept of kimchi, rob claiming he doesn't understand why people care so much about seasoning (my fellow americans, have fun with that one), and rob roasting steve coogan lmaooo also i never get sick of the alan bennett impression i love how it's almost tom courtenay it's hilarious to me

i've loved a lot of the recent eps, especially the ones with matthew macfadyen and richard e grant (funniest man alive)! and i watched the gordon ramsay episode like 5 times, it was sooo interesting and soooooo sweet to hear about his relationship with angela!

one thing i really like about this show — besides how awesome angela is — is that nick asks the genuine questions someone who isn't big into cooking would ask. like, when they were eating the rib eye, he was like, "if someone wanted to make this at home, what would they ask the butcher for? is this a specific cut of meat?" and even though it's like 'lol yeah nick...rib eye...' people who aren't familiar with cooking beef wouldn't have known that! he asks about cuts, measurements, cooking times, that sort of thing in a way that feels genuine and curious, which i appreciate (as someone who doesn't cook a lot lmao)

for sure!

hello anon! these are always posted on reddit every single night that they air, i recommend sending a polite "hello would you kindly add me to the sub?" message (you don't need to get fancier or more specific than that; they have to keep the sub private for obvious reasons so no need to feel intimidated) to r/TV_NCA so you can snag those links each week

sure anon i'll work on that for you this weekend xx

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[saveahorserideaneddie]

My (embarrassingly okay-ish) 9-1-1 Sims

so I do not claim to be good at remaking real people in the sims... I want to go ahead and get that out of the way first and foremost

however I don't think I did *terrible* on these sims (some are definitely better than others) but with that said, here are my 9-1-1 sims

(please don't judge me too hard)

Evan "Buck" Buckley

the tattoo cc I made for buck is definitely way out-of-date, but alas i am too lazy to go back and make a new tattoo to add all of his current 6,000 tattoos (love your tats oliver but no thanks <3) Including that last shirtless pic to show them off a little better.

Eddie Diaz

I know that Eddie doesn't have Ryan's map&compass tattoo in the show but I love that tattoo on Ryan so I included it on Eddie. I chose this hair for him bc I wanted to like blend the length it's at now with his s6 style a little bit- very floofy yet tidy, but also not a schoolboy or slicked back to the gods.

Maddie Han

I think I spent hours trying to get JLH's face as perfect as I could in-game and honestly I don't hate the outcome? like it's definitely NOT perfect by any means, but I think Maddie is one of my favorite sims in terms of how she turned out.

Chimney Han

Chimney is where things started to go a little downhill for me... I don't know why, but after HOURS of working, I just cold not get him right so I eventually had to sit back, take a deep breath, and say 'this is as good as it's gonna get.' I'd like to issue my formal apology to Kenneth Choi for this <3 (pls don't judge too harshly I swear I tried)

Karen Wilson

Karen, like Chimney, was a sim I spent HOURS on trying to get right, but for some reason I just could not for the life of me perfectly replicate Tracie's face... and unfortunately when I first made these sims (a LONG time ago) there wasn't a hair that fit Karen perfectly until (imo) THIS one came with the Lovestruck Expansion pack... I did make the executive decision to give her light brown hair rather than the blonde/brown she actually has, because the blonde in-game looked weird on her. I know these aren't her classic dreads, but I feel like they evoke the general vibe of hers better than some of the options we have in-game.

Hen Wilson

so Hen turned out being one of my favorites. I really love the outfits I picked out for her (bc lets be honest Hen loves wearing some of the WILDEST fits on the show) but unfortunately, this game hates to give female sims just plain slacks that are higher-waisted, so I was stuck with a cc pair that don't quite match but what can I do

Bobby Nash

yet another sim who I feel like I missed the mark on- Peter Krause's face was just IMPOSSIBLE to replicate, so I did my best. I also made the executive decision to not go full-grey for Bobby bc then he looked ancient rather than just late-50s.

Athena Grant

All I have to say about Athena is ANGELA BASSETT DID THE THING (also the cop outfit does NOT do her justice in this- I promise I worked hard to make sure Athena was giving just as much mommy vibes as she does on the show in her other outfits) (she's also ripped as fuck in my game bc I said so)

May Grant

I have a love-hate relationship with this sim because I spent so much time trying to perfectly replicate Corrinne's face, but no matter what I did there was always something that was always just the tiniest bit off... she's definitely not the worst of these sims though

Ravi Panikkar

all I have to say about Ravi is that if they want to give him a boyfriend in s8 i am available, and willing to travel to shoot in Los Angeles-

Also, I DID make a Josh sim, but I accidentally deleted him bc my mouse battery was dying and it was glitching out and i misclicked the "yes delete" button rather than the "don't delete" on the "are you sure?" tab and I didn't feel like going back and finding him again in the depths of my library so I will have to remake him :/

Oh and I made Chris too but every child sim looks exactly the same so he doesn't look anything like Gavin, but that was out of my hands I fear 💀

But anyway, these are my 9-1-1 sims... I made these forever ago and went through last night and updated their hair/outfits, but I haven't touched their physical attributes since I first made them. I'm excited to start playing with them again 😭😭