#i wanted more bobby mentions
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If i ever write a spiderbit fic, im going to add "i wish Bobby was here to see the wonderful dad he just won." to Roier's vows.
#i wanted more bobby mentions#my beautiful boy#amazing egg#phantom shenanigans#qsmp#spiderbit#it's a hc now#headcanon#alright alright#qsmp bobby
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Who is the best and who is the worst to sit next to on the plane?
no one could agree who unanimously is the best insisting their seatmate, previous or otherwise, was (ekky→benny, benny→reino, sasha⇆bobby, swaggy→forsy, luosty→mikksy)
but the worst? with a whopping two votes against him (benny, swaggy) is ekky because hes loud and forces guys into joining the poker table 😭😭😭
special mention forsy and mikksy copping out of the question like theyre carebear incarnates and going everyone is the best :)
Primetime Panthers | 10.30.24 (x)
#carter verhaeghe#aaron ekblad#sam bennett#sam reinhart#evan rodrigues#aleksander barkov#sergei bobrovsky#gustav forsling#eetu luostarinen#niko mikkola#florida panthers#2425#the editing is SO EVIL#“ekkys loud” (cuts to ekky going well /some/ would argue that rodrigues is the best because hes /quiet/)#yeah ekky whos that censored some huh. you guys mustve squabbled about this before so many times#to know sams club existed on the plane. oh sams club...#i need to know the updated poker table layout with the departure of most cats who sat there#swaggy willingly sits at the poker table and gets shocked when the guy whos the worst at poker bats his eyelashes at him to join#my favourite thing is swaggy and benny who dont want to hurt ekkys delicate feelings and try to say it as softly as they can#swaggy looking at the door nervously like ekky is gonna burst in and whine about him choosing him as the worst#him getting even more nervous as he mentions forsy because god forbid he gets in between 542#[insert sasha all by myself swinging his legs as hes sat alone on picture day pic]#bobby “i enjoy the convos i have with sasha :)” vs sasha “when i want to talk bobby is always sleeping” truly comical#also luosty... mikkolier or mikkoLIAR i need to know the spelling of this...#luosty and his shit eating grin as he teases mikksy#insert sasha's comment on mikksy where he goes yeah hes chill hes not as sensitive as lundy#mikksys soft yeah anytime someone mentions he loves people :(((#“a man of the people :D” oh they absolutely blasted the groupchat with all the “man of the people” comments people made#when mikksy chugged a beer at elbo room and cussed on local news oh dear god
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SO. i was able to figure out the general structure of the script JLH leaked.
[explanation under the cut]
in order for all this to make sense, the first thing you need to know is that in north america all screenplays (scripts) are written in the same format
knowing this, we can deduce the general structure of the scene and even the length of some of the words
first we need to address the big question everyone's been asking:
are they talking about Bobby or Eddie?
screenplays are always typed in courier font, and in courier the capital letters B and E are identical at their left sides.
so while i enjoy people trying to figure out if the blurry letter in line 24 is a B or an E, the answer is it could honestly be either
where we really need to look is line one. the screengrab is blurry so i've outlined the word "going" and circled the area we should pay attention to
at first, the last letter of the prior word looks like an undistinguishable blob, but there is actually one key thing we can discern from it: the letter can't be y, it doesn't hang low enough
there is a chance that the word is not a name and is "he" which would not rule out Bobby or Eddie. however, that would mean the conversation goes on for at least 14 lines without mentioning "him" by name which is (heavily) frowned against in screenwriting. so chances are they're talking about Eddie
also, with what we know about the characters it's most likely Eddie. can you really see Bobby not talking to Buck because of... well, anything? and we already know that Eddie has a difficult time communicating. so i've decided to go with him for this script but haven't 100 per cent ruled Bobby out
moving on to the actual script itself, anything not highlighted in red is something i'm confident is either the exact wording or something similar. the red sections are the parts that i'm less confident in or know are incorrect somehow
Maddie's first dialogue block is the part i had the most trouble with. with context from the following conversation i figured that she probably asked something along the lines of when [Eddie] will be back at work. the main issue with this section is that the top line is actually six letters shorter than what i have written. this also means that the word that follows "going" has to be at least eight letters long. i tried messing around with the dialogue a bit but couldn't come up with something that would fit the appropriate letter count so for now i just wrote a line similar to what i think the actual line probably is
line six has to be either 12 or 13 spaces long and the first word has to be at least four letters long so i used "really soon" as a place holder, but i'm not completely confident in it
for line eight i initially had "Oh, that's good." but the line was one space short so i changed the "Oh" to "Hey" instead. i don't feel too poorly about this one but it still doesn't feel right to me. if the actual script says "Hey" i wouldn't be surprised if JLH changes it to something else or forgoes the exclamation completely
the final line is just a rough guess of what it could be. i'm not sure how formal the 911 writers are with action lines so i just took a random guess. some writers are extremely formal with action lines while others are more comedic with it (Neil Gaiman is a great example of this). i'm guessing the 911 writers are more the former but i honestly have no clue
#should i be working on my own screenplay rn instead of analyzing someone else's?#probably but i'm doing this anyway#if anyone wants any explanation on the other lines let me know#it's honestly just a lot of knowing how screenplays are written and knowing the 'rules' of script writing#911 abc#911 fox#s7#911 speculation#911 spoilers#spec#maddie buckley#evan buckley#eddie diaz#bobby nash#OH and before anyone mentions it yes it is “on THE basketball court” not “a”#it has to be a three letter word#so my guess is they were talking about the bball court/game prior to talking about whoever buck assaulted lmao#since “the” is a more personal/less generalized word#also no americans come after me for spelling it per cent#i realized when checking it over that some of y'all might be little shits (affectionate) about it#long post
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"none of buck’s inner circle of friends/family are thrilled about him" How can you say that when there's literally a scene of Bobby telling Buck that Tommy is good people and he's good for Buck?
lol again I said “my opinion” in regards to my last post but also Bobby never really worked with him and was probably trying to be nice on his end towards the relationship and given Buck’s parental father figure type relationship he shares with Bobby again I viewed it as he was giving him a shoulder to lean on if ever wanted to talk about it in the future but again my opinion. Hen and Karen’s reactions are very much valid and yk you can tell they were thrown off by his commentary towards the questioning being as yk Hen worked with Tommy and again grown ass man that very much knew the type of behavior he was exhibiting towards both Hen and Chimney which again they are minority/BIPOC characters that are not being treated fairly by their white privileged coworker… but again my opinion I haven’t said anything negative towards Tommy’s character as I don’t want to waste my energy on repeating time and time again that I don’t like his character and don’t find his relationship with Buck lasting very long but I’ll just say it once and it be done with cause again I don’t like his character and the actor himself that plays Tommy as he has political ideals/beliefs that I don’t support as a Mexican Bisexual women myself so that’s that and this will be the last time I mention this cause again very much not a topic I want to discuss on my blog and if you couldn’t tell from my commentary buddie truther through and through so if that ain’t your cup of tea sorry can’t change my mind and don’t really care I work full time and don’t have the time for arguments over characters I could care less about
#only fucking time I was will say this cause again I haven’t mentioned it as I don’t want to be repeating myself time and time again#again my fucking opinion so you kindly can ignore my page as well#more of steph’s random thoughts#evan buckley#hen wilson#bobby nash#chimney han#karen wilson#eddie diaz#buddie#911 season 7#911 s7#911 abc
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Modern au Bobby with stud earrings is living rent free in my head like his dad is literally a jeweler, are you telling me he didn’t beg his dad to pierce his ears as a kid? And Gaston Moch refused to let his son get piercings done at one of those nasty, unsanitary health hazards that is a mall kiosk so they had done it right there in their jewelry store.
Years later he’s still only got the one on each earlobe and would love to get more, but he and his parents all damn well knows he’s got some sort of PTSD from his time in the hospital as a kid so the needles might not be the best idea.
#bobby has his ears pierced#I will die on this hill#they’ve definitely tried to pierce more but he just can’t#and the internal struggle of wanting more but also not wanting to accidentally punch his dad when he pierces his helix or smth#the boys in the boat#bobby moch#boys in the boat#boys n boats#modern au#botched appendectomy#< my tag for anything related to bobby’s medical history#and this kinda relates to that right? like I mention it so oh well
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i also find it very funny how people think laura actually cared about james at all when his name is only mentioned 4 times in the secret diary and they all occur in the same paragraph in which she's mentioning lying to dr. jacoby *scratches head* ... meanwhile here's just a few of the times she mentions bobby
like idk you tell me who she was actually in love with
#she basically says multiple times that when she finally gets rid of BOB she wants to actually work things out with bobby - that she's saving#him and his love for when the 'REAL' laura comes back#god.......... their relationship makes me so fucking sad LMAO#people who don't get laura truly just need to read the book like it's such an amazing read and so haunting and sad#just. peak. to me#i truly can't understand how people thought she loved james at all when she knew donna loved him LMAO#like she did not give a SHIT about james and it's very easy to tell from everytime she actually talks about him when he isn't around#their last interaction kinda says everything imo like i don't think she hated him#i do think she treasured him for being like. an escape for her. something unrelated to all the drugs and sex related entanglements#but other than that it's like. she thought he was 'sweet but so dumb' and rolled her eyes when donna said how 'great' he is LMAO#like there's a reason james didn't understand the 'it's happening again' feeling like bobby and donna and cooper did#because they actually have Real Connections with laura. and laura loved them (excluding cooper but they do have a strong connection ofc)#the two loves of laura's life were bobby and donna. that's all i gotta say. bc she mentions donna only slightly more than bobby like. wow#i really think ppl only care about this show bc of cooper sometimes... and i adore cooper too but... c'mon...
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shadow in my room where there usually isn't one and i know why it's there and what's causing it but my silly ass is like ooooo.....little ghost in my room
#this is so beaucore of me as well btw#beau's exploration of grief one of the most fun for me to write#bc part of it is deadass like “well if i have to grieve i also want to find out if ghosts are real or not”#he is NOT HAPPY that he has yet to see a lingering shadow at the end of the hallway#bobby promising beau that after he dies he'll come back to haunt him so he knows ghosts are real and now beau's like WHERE ARE YOU????#the question i have to answer is like. are ghosts actually real in the canon#i would like to say yes because ghosts are sooo fun but i dont think im gonna approach it in a direct/superantural way#more like an ambiguous/surreal vibe of haunting#one thing i forgot to mention in the wip intro is that beau believes that bobby is communicating with him by influencing his love life lol#which is both ridiculous and endearing i love how his brain works#i would kind of like the haunting to elevate until beau is eventually convinced that bobby's ghost ass is in his room#but in a cool surreal way where as the reader you dont know if that actually is real#but end of the day it doesnt matter if it is because it's real to beau...thats my philosophy on hauntings#but also i just want to have fun with a ghost character. he's not straight up there as a character but he is There u know
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yesterday, richas was talking to empanada about feeling lonely and how to deal with these emotions, and once again, richas mentioned bobby as being his star.
"my tip i always wanted to feel like my dads are connecting with other, and at the beginning, it was hard empanada 0_0 we were the first in a bunch of things!! the first to not speak spanish or english, the first to clash in accidentally, i was the first the egg to even come without a certificate!! KKKKKKK and my dads used to stay alone or only talk among themselves that's why we were a family THEN >:D THERE WAS A STAR!! this star came crashing in and brought me and dad cellbit together with pa roier!! then we started to befriend everyone 0_0 vô foolish, tio maxo, tio bad even!!! and it took me even a month to talk to dapper!! 0_0 so KKKKKKKK it's ok to feel like that, these days we have a a lot less people to go running, and back we had different tasks "GO PLAY HIDE AND SEEK WITH A FRIEND!! >:D" and then both me and my dads, both being oddly timid to go and speak another language with another person, sitting there, thinking "oh god". at the end, it might not feel EVERONE like family 0_0 but with time you kinda fit in >:D even if its you and your dads agains the world!"
cellbit just talked about how right after bobby died, he talked to richas about how all the eggs who die become stars, and richas asked him if he would become one when he died and said that the biggest star in the sky was bobby because he was fat.
after forever's fight with richas, he wrote this on his letter:
"(...) the stars that are there in the sky, at night, to protect me and cheer for me... it's been a long time since i heard that... i miss those stories."
today on cellbit's castle, this romero richas painting was there
romero richas showed up only after bobby died, i think it's obvious that there's a connection between bobby's death and this entity/trauma response manifesting itself.
#this is a lot more than just about bobby#but i wanted to add this here#since richas always mentions bobby as being a star <3#richarlyson#bobby#qsmp
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YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader
Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶
Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?
Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)
warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.
authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship
There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted.
He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck.
Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?
Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin.
He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again.
They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest.
“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him.
Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.
They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene.
She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been.
Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men.
They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.
Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to.
Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions.
“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,”
They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently.
Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face.
He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet.
“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”
They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”
“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”
His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry.
“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.”
She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage.
“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,”
“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him.
She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them.
“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”
The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob.
“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”
Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand.
“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter.
Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights.
Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible.
His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was.
Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed.
“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him.
“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands.
“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,”
“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”
She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip.
“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”
He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.
He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in.
Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years.
“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”
And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.
—
She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe.
She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe.
It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second.
“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing.
But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late.
“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them.
She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed.
“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”
“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new.
“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”
“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”
But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them.
Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them.
He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently.
“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”
She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands.
“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt.
His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building.
Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him.
–
She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’
She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use.
He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard.
They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign.
He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?”
She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,”
And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes.
Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested.
But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again.
It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible.
He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything).
The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright.
He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet.
“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance.
She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock.
“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,”
“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,”
“I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing.
And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin.
Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down.
“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?”
She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised.
“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point.
Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”
“Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,”
She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”
His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion.
She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.
“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”
His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise.
“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off.
She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him.
“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.
“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,”
She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”
He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”
She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again.
“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his.
Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,”
Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all.
But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him.
She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”
Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#dr spencer reid#Post Prison!Spencer Reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#matthew grey gubler x reader
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playing with his hair
giirrrl idk, a feral thought maybe; bf!felix x fem!reader w his long hair since i’m too lazy to make it a whole detail fic for now lol so, (i deadass tried to make it a drabble but it pass the 1k words😮💨)
genre - warnings: smut, fluff!! dry humping, handjob, grinding, unprotected piv, mention of cockwarming, idol bf felix btw
word count: 1.6k
a/n: this is what i have to deal with everyday, actually, oopsies, he’s next to me rn! also writing in present it’s so new, I like to read it when yall write like that, but I’ll stick with past tense😁 edit: girl i had this in the drafts for days, but he was a little too happy in his recent promoting video, he’s sleeping outside, someone pick him up /jk srly pls
Felix likes to try new hairstyles ever since he let grow his hair, he feels very confident with it and likes the way you randomly stroke it every time you’re together.
Your idea of fun is one of those very rare free afternoons for him since he’s all the time busy at work; it’s when you’re just chilling together at your place because you feel too lazy to go out but very comfortable with each other’s company.
Your days are simple, and your hours with him are very limited but he always makes sure to enjoy being with him; so you try to do everything at once, watch a movie, talk, lay on his chest while he’s playing games on his cell phone… and suddenly, just playing around, with you sitting on his lap in front of him, giggling while playing with his hair.
“Fuck, your hair is so fried” you tease him with a smile, looking at your fingers entangling with his straight hair.
He pouts, “Stop, then don’t touch it…” he responds also joking, just watching you with heart and sparkling eyes.
Felix rests his hands on your tights and caresses them softly. You down your gaze to meet his, he’s suddenly looking at you so sweetly that makes your cheeks get a little warm.
“Can I play with it?” you asked joyfully.
“With what?”
“Your hair” you replied in an obvious tone, “I can do pigtails, braids, middle part, side part” you continue to say, laughing while playing with his hair.
Felix chuckles softly, completely in love, closing his eyes sometimes, then looking up at your arms.
“Wait here” you speak again, standing up from his lap and going to get a comb, hair ties, bobby pins and some random hair clips to take pictures of him just for fun.
“You can also do my make-up if you want” he comments, raising his thick voice so you can hear him.
You sit back down on his lap.
“Oh no, you wear makeup almost every day, let your face rest today” you answer, kissing him tenderly on the bridge of his nose, hiding a little bit the fact that you love seeing your boyfriend’s bare face, straight black eyelashes, big dark eyes, full lips, cheeks and nose with freckles all over.
You laugh at doing whatever you want with his hair, taking silly pictures every time you find him adorable, just giggling saying your favorite inside jokes, then ending with a bow on his hair.
“You can really use me, huh” Felix says, giving you a funny but adorable look with his eyes wide open.
Felix starts caressing your back, with more consistent and intense caresses and he suddenly realizes how you haven’t kissed each other on the lips the whole time, so he moves closer to you and you without hesitation receive his kiss, following a tender and slow rhythm at first, pressing your lips together in a delicate lip rubbing, but you’re a bit desperate when it comes to each other, so your boyfriend catches his breath between kisses and looks himself at the work of being more glued and pouncing on you, with his touches all over your body, from your thighs to your back, slipping his hands under your blouse to feel your bare skin.
Your make out starts to heat up precipitously that you can feel the growing erection in his shorts, so, with your hands wrapped around his neck, you begin to move over his cock, pressing it to your core and stimulating you both. At this point, your pussy is throbbing and you feel slightly heated. You’re always impressed by how incredibly fast you want and desire him. You both moan softly at the friction. As you pull apart you smile slightly mischievously at him and for some reason you start kissing his neck, which Felix loves so, causing him to give you a huge tender smile showing his teeth, clutching his grip on your hips tighter.
You pull away once more to meet the wide grin on his face, which gently turns into a slightly strained expression as you continue to move your body against his erection, Felix gasps, his lips forming a soft expression of satisfaction this time with his submissive facing enjoying the naughty act of crushing his cock with your center, with your clothes on.
“Fuck, baby, it feels so good” Felix sighs, biting his slightly swollen, full lips, lowering his gaze to your pussy being trapped in him, moving his erection back and forth, guiding your hips for better movement.
You smile satisfactorily at him in response, each time feeling the heat of your body and pussy brush against your panties, wetting them all over, just playing more with your arousal. You see him, he looks so fucking cute and yet so hot with the last few hairstyles you gave him, two little high ponytails with bows leaving the rest of his hair loose, he looked silly cute, but serious manly moans coming out of him contrasts somehow so perfectly.
Felix sighs again sonorously, his legs shaking a little, he doesn’t think he can take it long enough without cumming if you keep moving so dedicatedly on him so he speaks again:
“Mmm, c’mon baby, take off your clothes, or do you want me to take you to bed.”
A pleasant shock goes through your body as you hear him a little more needy, you’re not thinking straight and you don’t want to pull away from him so you just reply a simple, “It’s okay like this, Lix.”
With your heart beating fast you grab his shorts, indicating you want to pull them down, Felix helps you right away, releasing his pink, needy, throbbing cock, you look down at his member and then at the same time you join gazes, Felix looks at you so needy and innocent, his big eyes begging you to touch him, you can’t help but melt every time he does that and in a needy sigh, with your cheeks a little red, you stand up, embarrassed, pulling down your comfy cloth shorts along with your panties, climbing back onto his lap, catching your boyfriend licking his lips at the sight of your cute bare mons venus.
Felix smiles, so excited at the thought of feeling you on him again, now with the sensation of your warm wet center in him, he gets more excited at the thought that you were finally going to settle on him ready to fuck, however, you start pumping his entire erect length, making him gasp loudly as he throws his head back, marking his bulging Adam's apple in his throat. Felix returns to his posture, looking straight into you with desire, biting his lip as you with a smile, touch all over his cock, stroking his tip gently with your fingers, feeling his stiffness and the slight sticky precum sliding down your hand as you jerk him off.
You’re so wet, and Felix is getting over the edge, so you finally accommodate your body, squeezing your pussy tighter on his cock, grinding on it a little before you put his cock inside you, encouraging in him more arousal if that was possible, teasing him and you at the sensation of his dick rub between your labia, until you feel his throbbing member so foreplayed, and until you see your boyfriend’s sweet expression as he can’t resist anymore and, finally you insert his rigid manhood completely in you. The temperature of both your bodies rises, it feels so fucking good to be filled by him, every move you make comes out of pure bliss, panting, sliding on his cock in a rhythm that makes him shudder and moan; Felix feels every part of his body beat intensely, enjoying every thrust into him.
“Oh, fuck, l-ove, ke-keep going please, I’m gonna cum, fuuck” he whimpers, desperate in a high-pitched tone, closing his eyes.
Felix thinks about the idea of cumming all of him inside you, of filling you up, brings him to a better ecstasy and in a thick sigh of relief and satisfaction, he manages to cum, relaxing a bit all the tension built in his body, making his thighs restless in soft tingling and trembling. You rest your hands on his shoulders and hide your face on the side of his neck, moaning close to his ear and with your face brushing against his soft hair, gently overwhelming you with his sweet scent, you bite your lip at the sensation of his hot semen shooting inside you and you also sense you’re so close to your climax that, despite being slightly tired, you intensify and increase each movement, sliding a little more slippery as you are filled with his cum. You hug him without thinking, your walls squeeze his sensitive cock still stuck in your core, you’re climaxing so intensely that you open your mouth almost in an inaudible squeal, your vision blurs for a few seconds and you let yourself release completely onto your boyfriend.
You feel the joining of agitated chests and breaths, Felix hug you warmly wrapping your back, once again your body melts at the slightest touch of his, but you can’t help but feel him so close to you, acting tenderly. Felix doesn’t even have to say it, but you know he loves you, you feel it too, so you relax your body on top of him, stroke his hair and he gives you a soft kiss on your shoulder as he caresses your back and keeps you in such a vulnerable position with both sexes together, with you on top of him until you decide to move.
——————-
𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @bubblebisk
#lee felix#lee felix smut#felix smut#lee felix fluff#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids#skz#lee felix x you#lee felix x reader#felix fluff#felix x you#felix x reader#felix stray kids#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#skz x you#skz x reader#lee yongbok#felix hard thoughts#𐙚wen writes♡₊˚⊹#ybklix♡₊˚⊹
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I've updated this with even more information, timestamps, and a more thorough analysis of Cucurucho and its fascination with Roier. In summary:
Cucurucho is very fond of Roier, but it's implied that this affection caused Cucurucho to be replaced / reprogrammed / had its memory erased. It's no longer the same being we knew at the start of the series.
Before this "reset" Cucurucho was more emotive and expressive (though still less than any "regular" Island inhabitant)
Cucurucho consistently keeps an eye out for Roier, and it seemingly tried to protect Bobby (and by extension Roier) by warning him about the new "bed misclick" rule.
Despite saying it doesn't know the meaning of the word "want," Cucurucho has repeatedly proven it cares more deeply for Roier than it does for any other Island inhabitant (with the exception of Jaiden, who it also seems to care for, but in a different way)
Roier considered Cucurucho a dear friend for a long time, and once even told Bobby, "I know I can count on him."
Although Roier told Cucurucho one of the things he needed to be happy on the Island was more friends, the other major thing he asked for from Cucurucho was love, understanding, and tenderness.
"I’m the one who gives love, I’m the one who gives love and tenderness, but who gives it to me? Who gives me love? Tell me, who gives me love?"
The Federation, The Census Bureau, QSMP, Cucurucho, and Roier
Something fishy is going on regarding Roier and the higher powers of the QSMP, and after chatting with @kasiobite, I've realized that things are a lot more complicated than we first thought.
We do know a few things though:
Roier considered Cucurucho a friend for a long time (he doesn't anymore after Bobby's death)
Cucurucho was, and has always been, very fond of Roier
Cucurucho seemed happiest when it was with Roier
Cucurucho does not always represent the QSMP. Sometimes, it specifically says it represents the Federation. (Are these two different forces on the Island?)
The most we've ever learned about Cucurucho has been when it's spoken with Roier
Roier has told Cucurucho he loved it
Roier thinks Cucurucho is being controlled by the Island / the Federation and wanted to help free it
The Cucurucho we knew at the beginning of the series and the Cucurucho we know now act differently. Many believe this is because it was punished for its feelings for Roier, and its memory was altered.
When describing Cucurucho to Bobby, Roier (who seems to understand Cucurucho best) said this:
"I think Cucurucho is sad. It's just that, I remember I used to hang out with him a lot when I first came to this Island. I hung out with him a lot. He always came to see me and help me. But from one moment to the next, I realize that he had changed. He stopped being so kind to me, and in fact he gave me a book. He had been telling me for many days that he was going to stop bothering me, it seems like he was scolded, but he acts like nothing's wrong. He acts like everything is fine, but I feel like they are forcing him. He's sad. He doesn't show it, but he wrote me a sad face."
Let's break down the details day by day:
[UPDATED: June 4]
Day 1 - 3 - Establishing a bond
Since the beginning, Cucurucho had a very playful relationship with Roier. It enjoyed surprising / scaring Roier with its sudden appearance, and after a certain point, Roier began to expect Cucurucho's presence whenever he called it.
And sure enough, whenever Roier called it, Cucurucho came.
There's a lot of playful teasing between the two of them, and these first three days best exhibit Cucurucho's personality.
When Roier wanted to create a taco truck, he searched the Island for all the ingredients he needed, but had no luck finding tomatillo seeds. Cucurucho appears suddenly before him, and after whacking him on the head, it and offers him... some tomato seeds.
Roier gets excited until he realizes what Cucurucho gave him, and when Cucurucho realizes its mistake, it digs itself a hole and jumps in. Cucurucho seems genuinely embarrassed by its mistake, and its the most expressive we've ever seen Cucurucho be.
What's interesting is that, even outside of its interactions with Roier, Cucurucho's mind always seems to circle back to him.
On Day 3, Cucurucho hangs out with Mariana for 10 minutes in a cave before giving him a book that says "Tell me everything you know about Roier." (Note: this is completely unprompted by anything)
Mariana, having absolutely zero sense of self-preservation, proceeds to tease Cucurucho about its crush on Roier so much it would put an entire class of Kindergarten children to shame.
Mariana: You like Roier, don't you? You like Roier man! You like him! Ohhhhhhhhh~!!! You like him!!!!
(He also asks Cucurucho if it wants Roier's number).
Cucurucho then shoots and kills Mariana (lmao) but eventually does revive him. It seems to get frustrated when Mariana doesn't give it any information it deems "helpful" and starts digging pits and running back and forth. When Mariana asks what kind of information Cucurucho wants, it says "classified" and refuses to elaborate.
Day 4 - Last day with "our" Cucurucho
This is the first time we get a hint that there are multiple Cucuruchos [Timestamp 3h 52m]. Cucurucho appears in Roier's basement, and is also at the top of the stairs when Roier goes up, then back downstairs when Roier goes down. Roier is, understandably, a little freaked out, but he shakes it off pretty quickly. Cucurucho is a bit playful with Roier, and just… hangs out with him for no apparent reason. Roier even asks Cucurucho "Are you having a good time here?" and Cucurucho nods. Roier seems happy at the response, saying "this is your house"
Roier gives him his first taco [Timestamp: 3h 56m], having made a deal with Cucurucho that he'd give it 10 tacos (and more) inexchange for one taco from Cucurucho. It hurts his feelings that Cucurucho doesn't have an enthusiastic reaction about the taco, and after he makes a huevo joke and Cucurucho shoots him then pretends like nothing happened, Roier feels really bad. Roier tells Cucurucho it can't treat him like this and pouts for a bit.
When he tries asking Cucurucho its name, it just responds with "no" and when Roier tries asking it why there are two of them, the upstairs one says "I don't know." Roier asks Cucurucho to let him go so he can get more materials to make more tacos, and Cucurucho tells him no. (Roier made a deal with Cucurucho earlier saying he'd make it tacos).
While waiting for Cucurucho to finish writing him an answer via book, Roier gives Cucurucho back the amapola it gave him earlier, pretending to spit at him because he's mad [Timestamp 3h 58m 50s]. Cucurucho hands him a book that says "Finish what I told you." They part ways with Roier (half-jokingly) saying, "You know what Osito Bimbo, you know what? I'm tired of you treating me badly. You and I are no longer friends," and dramatically logging out.
Day 5 - A Final Message
Roier logs in and immediately finds potted amopola (poppies) in his house. At the top of the stairs is another singular amapola, two tacos, and this book:
Translation: 0037. Through this I want to express my most sincere apologies for treating you as a slave. We are sorry for any discomfort I may have caused you. We hope you continue to enjoy the island at its best. You won't see me, but I will see you. Best regards, Federal QSMP Commission
I briefly wondered what the significance of 0037 was before I remembered that was Roier's ticket number.
Why refer to him by a number instead of a name? Does this confirm that they're all part of an experiment?
Anyways, Roier says, "No! No!!! I want to keep seeing you Osito!" and responds to that message with this:
Translation: Hello my dear Osito Bimbo :) I like you, please keep showing up. And that's all, uwu
As far as I'm aware, none of the books from Osito Bimbo up until this point used smiley-faces, but after this, Cucurucho started using them in some of its books. Did it learn that from Roier?
(To give you a timeframe reference for where we are: this same day, Roier is later betrayed by Spreen and Quackity. In one fell swoop, Roier lost many of the people he cared about, and who cared about him, all in one day.)
Day 6
[Timestamp 2h 32m] Quackity says he doesn't want to give any spoilers, but he warns Fit, Vegetta, and Roier to be careful around Cucurucho.
Day 10 - Cucurucho is back, but isn't the same
[Timestamp: 2h 12m 30s] At the adoption center (where Mariana is trying to comfort JuanaFlippa, who says she wants a new family) Roier sees Osito Bimbo spying on them and chases after it, but it vanishes.
Later, while Roier is with Jaiden, he tells her there's more than one Cucurucho, then sees Cucurucho standing on top of one of the buildings near spawn / the wall. Roier tells Cucurucho, "Come here! I missed you!" Cucurucho doesn't come. For whatever reason, Jaiden can't see it. Roier says to Cucurucho, "Ok, well maybe later I can see you in my house. You are going to come, because I know you! I know you like the back of my hand" (Cucurucho shakes its head "no" at this)
[Timestamp 2h 59m] After Roier and Jaiden put Bobby to bed and Jaiden logs out, Roier does a few laps around the castle while talking to Chat. When he comes back a few minutes later, he finds the entry to Bobby's room blocked off and a sign in front of it that reads: "Don't touch your son."
Here's where things get interesting: for context, between this stream and the last time Roier streamed on the QSMP, Mariana and Slimecicle broke into Leonarda's house and misclicked the bed. Since then, a new rule was implemented on the server saying that if an Egg's bed breaks, they lose a life.
Was Cucurucho trying to warn Roier, and potentially save Bobby's life?
Anyways, Roier immediately breaks the blocks and runs upstairs to check on Bobby. He laughs, thinking Bobby is playing a prank on him, then realizes Bobby (and the admin) isn't logged in. He then asks, "Cucurucho?" out loud and starts looking around for it. Roier starts theorizing, how in theory, no one can get through his door, since he has a whitelist and only a few people can enter. He checks the house for any weakpoints that someone could sneak in through, but there are none, and he determines that Bobby is safe.
Roier mentions that Cucurucho isn't acting like its usual self. When they do finally meet again in the castle courtyard, Cucurucho keeps its distance from him.
Roier: Well, I'm here, is there anything you want to ask me? I've seen you around, watching me. Do you want to know something about me?
Cucurucho: Classified.
Roier: Are you holding a book? Why haven't you visited me? Tell me.
Cucurucho: Classified
Roier: Ouch, now you don't want to tell me anything. Do you not like me anymore?
Cucurucho: ...
Roier: Do you not like me anymore? I thought we… I thought we were buddies.
Cucurucho: Maybe. I don't know.
[ A short time later, Roier starts singing a song and doing a little dance for Cucurucho ]
Roier: – And that's how it went. Huh? Don't you remember? How come you don't remember? Those were good times, when we spent time together! How come you don't remember? Remember!!!!
Cucurucho: I don't know (It repeats this several times)
Roier: No you DO know! Come down. First of all, come down. Why are you talking to me from up there? Come down, don't be so rude.
Cucurucho: No. (Repeated several times)
Roier: Come on, why not? Come! Are you jealous? (He says "Ta celoso", celoso is jealous and oso is bear, so he's making a pun)
Cucurucho: Enjoy the Island. (Turns to leave)
Roier: I do enjoy it a lot, Osito! Osito!
Roier runs after Cucurucho and confronts it again. Cucurucho gives him a book that has his ticket number in it, then tries to leave again.
[Timestamp 3h 7m] Roier follows it, even digging to go underground with it to keep up, asking why it gave him a book with his train ticket number on it.
Roier: Stop playing a fool, where are you going? I won't stop following you
Cucurucho: [ Fires two warning shots on either side of Roier ]
Roier: What, are you going to kill me? Come on, kill me! Shoot me! Kill me! Murder me right here! Are you going to leave a child without a father? Are you going to leave Jaiden without a partner?
Cucurucho opts to run away, and Roier continues following it until it goes somewhere he can't (under lava) leaving him shouting, "You can't leave me like this!"
Day [ ? ]
I'm uncertain what day this happens, but someone pointed out this important conversation Roier has with Bobby around day 32. [CLIP]
Roier: Have you seen a white bear around?
Bobby: [ Wiggles to indicate "no" ]
Roier: You haven't seen him around… He's an old friend of mine, he's an old friend of mine. He could help us out with anything we need. I know I can count on him.
Day 32 - Love, Understanding, and Tenderness
[Timestamp 2h 39m] While they're in the castle, Bobby suddenly pulls out his gun and leads Roier outside. Roier asks what's wrong, then sees Cucurucho standing on the balcony above them.
[Timestamp 2h 41m] After messing around with his new stretchy tentacle gun that lets him Spider-man swing, he finally gets up to where Cucurucho is. Cucurucho greets him with a "Buenos Dias" then asks how Roier is doing. Roier says he's doing fine, then asks Cucurucho how it is and what its been doing.
Cucurucho: I was informed you were looking for me.
Roier: Yes, that's right. Where were you all that time? Why did you stop talking to me? Why did you leave my life?
Cucurucho: Classified
Roier: Cucurucho, Cucurucho, Osito Bimbo, why did you stop talking to me?
[ Cucurucho hands him a book that says, "Do you need anything?" ]
Roier: Yes. What I need is love, understanding, and tenderness.
[Bobby punches him off the tower]
Roier: Anyways, I was saying –
Cucurucho: Observation.
Roier: Observation? Let's see, but did you leave because you had to, or did you leave because they made you? What happened?
Cucurucho: ...
Roier: I already know what happened, I know what happened. It was Mariana, Mariana bothered you and told you, "YOU LIKE ROIER you like him, you like Roier!" Right? Was that it?
Cucurucho: [ Turns away and hangs its head ]
Roier: Hey, yes or no? Tell me. You got trapped--
Cucurucho: Hahaha
Roier: What?
Cucurucho: Hahaha
Roier: [Laughs] What is that laugh? You're laughing to make the moment less awkward, right? This is a defense mechanism. "Hahaha."
Cucurucho: ...
Roier: Well, if you don't want to answer, that's fine. You don't send me WhatsApp or anything. You don't love me. We are no longer friends. [He starts to hop away, then turns back to see Cucurucho's response]
[Cucurucho hands him a book that says, "On this island there are many things to do."]
Roier: For example, that?
[Roier moves to stand closer to Cucurucho, then Bobby knocks him off the tower again. Roier "Spider-man"s his way back up the tower, and he and Cucurucho are face to face again]
Cucurucho: Classified
Roier: What do you mean by that, what do you mean by that? Tell me! What is there to do here, what is there to do? Tell me.
Cucurucho hands him this book, which says: "We are preparing things for your enjoyment. Thank you very much for your patience."
Roier: Ok, but is that the reason you no longer speak with me? You're very busy?
Cucurucho: [Nods]
Roier is concerned about Cucurucho's voice and asks if it's still able to say yes or no, and Cucurucho proves it can still say that. Roier asks Cucurucho if it needs to go and it says yes. Roier says: "You could stay with us and eat taquitos" drink Jamaica water or horchata if you like that more," and starts offering Cucurucho more and more food. Bobby falls off the building and Roier has to leave and go revive him, and Cucurucho again asks if he needs anything and apologizes for the inconvenience, saying its busy.
Roier: As I was telling you before, what I need is love, understanding, and tenderness. Do you have that?
Cucurucho: Hahaha
Roier: Why are you laughing? That makes you laugh?
[Cucurucho hands him a book that says Las Casualonas is on the other side of the Island]
Roier: [Laughing] But it's not that, there is that but it's not love.* Besides, I work there! I am Las Casualonas! I mean I can't go there because I'm the one who gives love, I'm the one who gives love, I'm the one who gives love and tenderness, but who gives it to me? Who gives me love? Tell me, who gives me love?
*(The phrasing on this is a bit weird but in essence, that's what he said here)
[Bobby hits Roier again, wanting him to take them somewhere fun, and Cucurucho says, "Enjoy the Island" before leaving. Bad and Dapper have just arrived and are just hanging out, but follow Roier, who starts chasing Cucurucho, to watch the drama]
Roier: Osito, why are you leaving? Do you want to leave? If you want to leave, you can leave, if you don't love me anymore, it's ok. No it's ok, if you don't love me anymore, then leave. Leave.
[Roier momentarily glances back at Bad, who's just standing there just silently watching their private conversation while Dapper's taking photos like a weirdo]
Cucurucho hands him a book that says: "What are you talking about?" then starts fishing.
Roier: Don't be stupid, don't act like an idiot, if you don't love me anymore, you can go.
Cucurucho doesn't leave, continuing to fish until Bad gets closer, and it throws him the fishing pole then turns to leave.
Roier: (To Bad) Don't be such a gossip! (To Cucurucho) No no no! Well, if you want to go, go. I asked you to screw me, not fail me.*
*I have no idea how to translate this, it's slang so don't take it literally but I genuinely don't know how to translate that.
Cucurucho shoots Roier and leaves.
Day 34 - Who is the Host?
[Timestamp 3h 44m 30s] Roier talks to Bobby about Cucurucho, calling it his friend. He says he wants to talk to Cucurucho again and starts singing "Baby Come Back"
Roier does a "ritual" trying to get Cucurucho to visit, and it (miraculously) works. Rainbow Cucurucho appears, and acts stranger than usual (which is saying something, considering this is Cucurucho we're talking about). This is their exchange [I'll add a clip later]:
Cucurucho: Good morning. What are you doing? We're from the QSMP Federation. It was reported that you were looking for me
Roier: I missed you! I was looking for you. I have a question Cucurucho, lately, I have seen people saying I work for the Federation. People are saying that I work for you. Cucurucho, you and I know-
Cucurucho: Hahaha
Roier: Exactly! You laugh because you and I are only friends, right, we are friends. [Long pause] …Right?
Cucurucho: I don't know.
Roier: Nah, you know, you know. Cucurucho, I don't know what you are, but you… you love me. You can't deny that. You love me: yes or no?
Cucurucho: Hahaha.
Roier: Nahhh no no no, Cucurucho, do you love me: yes or no? Do you love me? Yes or no? Wait- don't go Cucurucho- !
Cucurucho: No.
Roier: No?
Cucurucho: ...
Roier: Ok, Cucurucho. I have a question for you- I have a question for you. Let's see. If you don't like me, why do you come when I call you? If I'm not to your liking, why do you come? Every time I call, you answer. Tell me.
Cucurucho: ...
Roier: Cucuruchito, because I've known you since we first got here, I know you. There will be people who arrived a few days ago-
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: IT IS THE DUTY OF A GOOD HOST. IF THEY CALL ME, IT IS MY DUTY TO COME. ]
Roier: How is that the duty of a good Host? You are the Host? You are a Host? Host.... of a program show for children?
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO DO RITUALS ]
Roier: Ok... then Cucurucho, Cucurucho, Cucurucho, then let's see- clarify something for me- [Cucurucho starts to build up and go away] Nononono don't go! Wait wait wait. What do you mean you are a Host? Are you a Host? By "Host" do you mean the presenter of a program? Or do you mean that you are the Host of the Island?
Cucurucho: ...
Roier: Cucurucho? I thought we were friends. I don't know. So you just come because I call you? Because- because you are a good host?
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: YOU WERE INVITED TO THE ISLAND. THAT'S RIGHT, A HOST. ]
Roier: But Cucurucho, wait- wait wait wait- I mean, you say you are nothing but an asset? In other words, you are just active, because you don’t want to look bad to me? That’s why?
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WE COME WHEN YOU NEED SOMETHING. TO THE GUESTS, I GIVE WHAT THEY DESERVE. ]
Roier: ...Ok. It's fine. It's fine, Cucurucho. It's fine. Ok, but but you told me you were the Host. Are you the host?
Cucurucho: Hahaha.
Roier: Ok Cucurucho. I won't bother you anymore. I just wanted to see you again, but now it's clear to me... that you don't like* me. You never liked me. You come because you don't want to look bad in front of me because you want to be a good Host -- or do you want to make the Host look good?
* Roier uses the word "querer" here which is more sentimental than just "like"
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WANT IS A TERM I DON'T KNOW ]
Roier: So… they force you? They force you? Are you being forced?
Cucurucho: Enjoy the Island. [Runs away]
Roier: [Runs after it ] Are they forcing you to come here?! Cucurucho, answer me! I love you! I appreciate you! Are they forcing you to do this? Do they force you to come? ...Are you a real person? Are you a person disguised as a bear?
Cucurucho: ...
Roier: Cucurucho?
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: YOU ARE THE ONE WHO FORCES ME TO COME. IF YOU NEED SOMETHING, IT IS MY DUTY. NOTHING ELSE. DO YOU NEED SOMETHING? ]
Roier: So when I need something from you, you'll come? Nothing more? Every time I need something, you come?
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: THOSE ARE THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE HOST. THAT'S HOW IT IS. ]
Roier: Cucurucho, the truth is, I don't want to lie to you. I've been very sad. I think I want to leave the island. I feel very sad Cucurucho.
[Bobby punches Roier, and Roier shakes his head and holds a finger up to his lips, telling Bobby to be quiet]
Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WHAT IS MISSING ON THIS ISLAND THAT YOU NEED TO BE HAPPY? ]
Roier: I'm missing... I... need more friends.
Cucurucho: [Gestures at Badboyhalo and Dapper, who have been lurking trying to listen in on their conversation]
Roier: Them? Them as friends? But I don't like him, he smells like avocado. [Bad punches him] I want friends who don't smell like avocado, and who don't write so much!
Cucurucho: [Gives Roier a cockroach and tells him to enjoy the Island, then turns to leave]
Roier: Ok, ok, thank you. [Roier chases after Cucurucho] You have a nice day too! Nobody forces you to do what you don't want to do! You're free! Goodbye Osito Bimbo. [Osito Bimbo pauses as Roier is attacked by a zombie mob, hesitating until it sees he's ok] Goodbye!
[Timestamp 3h 55m] Despite their farewells, Roier decides to follow Cucurucho more anyways to see where it goes.
[Timestamp 3h 57m 45s] Afterward, Roier and Bobby go home, and Roier tells Bobby (in a low voice to avoid anyone overhearing), "I think Cucurucho is sad. It's just that, I remember I used to hang out with him a lot when I first came to this Island. I hung out with him a lot. He always came to see me and help me. But from one moment to the next, I realize that he had changed. He stopped being so kind to me, and in fact he gave me a book. He had been telling me for many days that he was going to stop bothering me, it seems like he was scolded, but he acts like nothing's wrong. He acts like everything is fine, but I feel like they are forcing him. He's sad. He doesn't show it, but he wrote me a sad face."
Day 36 - The Federation takes Felps
[Timestamp 1h 16m] Cucurucho arrives at Roier's castle with half the server (all rainbow) in tow. Roier asks how Cucurucho is doing, and Cellbit confronts Cucurucho about the chainsaw incident, which Cucurucho denies happened. Roier intervenes, telling people not to fight. Maximus pulls Roier aside, telling him something strange is happening with Felps because he's acting like he's "Cucurucho's best friend", and Maximus wonders if he's being brainwashed.
Cucurucho spends this entire time giving people gifts acting harmless, until Cellbit intervenes again.
Cellbit: Roier, Roier, don't trust Cucurucho, he's a liar.
Roier: Why?
Cucurucho: Why?
Cellbit: Don't believe him. He tortured me with a chainsaw.
Roier: He tortured you? Ah, you did tell me. Cucurucho, is that true?
Cucurucho: [shakes its head] No
Cellbit: He's lying, he's lying! Guapito, believe me, believe me.
Roier: Ok, I believe you, gatinho, I believe you gatinho. [He repeats "I believe you" over and over]
Cellbit: Be careful around him, ok? He's a manipulator, a liar. Do not believe his lies!
[As Cellbit says this, Cucurucho hangs its head]
Roier: I knew him from a long time ago. And he was not always like that. He was good before. But I don't know. What happened to you?
[Timestamp 1h 57m] Felps is taken by the Federation, and Cellbit, Maximus, and Roier confront Cucurucho, who laughs and says "I hope you enjoy the Island," offering them no answers.
[Timestamp 2h 8m 40s] Cellbit takes Roier and the other boys to the Theory Bros room, where they discuss the events from today and theories about Cucurucho]
Roier: Let me explain one thing. Cucurucho was very good to me. But then one day, he was very strange, you know? He was like… doing strange things, I don't know how to explain. But he was very good at the beginning, but then— he was like the Host.
Cellbit: Maybe at first he was really worried about making a good impression, and after that he started to let his guard down, and you caught him red-handed doing something weird.
Roier: Maybe the Host changed Cucurucho. I dunno, that's a theory.
Day 37
The longer Roier hung out with Cellbit and the Theory Bros, the more his opinion of Cucurucho soured.
[Timestamp 3h 16m] After a chat with Richarlyson about his art skills, he asks him to draw Cucurucho, and they draw what they think it looks like together.
[Timestamp 3h 26m] They show off their finished artwork to Cellbit, and both he and Roier call it "The true face of Cucurucho." Roier's art is on the bottom, Richarlyson's is the one on top.
Roier: This person, this one here, is the true Cucurucho. The devil.
Cellbit: A demon of the apocalypse.
Day 41 - Reviving Bobby
[Timestamp: 17m] Cucurucho visits Roier and Jaiden a few days after Bobby's death. It tells him to gather his friends to try and rescue Bobby, and gives him this book:
[See it from Jaiden's POV]
Roier: I didn't lie to you. I told you I have new friends, I told you, and now they're all here.
Cucurucho: If you want to see [Bobby] again, there's a price to pay.
But they don't get Bobby back.
Cucurucho: I told you. Everything has a price.
Roier: Was that the price? All those deaths?
Cucurucho: Yes :) […] There is a high price to pay when it comes to life and death. 10 minutes is the best I could get you.
In reality, they wound up getting 25. Realistically, this was probably just the admins feeling bad for Roier and Jaiden because frick dude, that was depressing, but if we want to give an in-universe explanation for it, Cucurucho might've given them more time.
Even so, Roier still vows he'll hold a trial against the Federation to try and get Bobby back.
Day 47 - A series of unfortunate events
I'm gonna TLDR this because so much happened on this day I'd recommend just watching the VOD, but essentially: Jaiden makes a deal with Cucurucho in the hopes that in return, they'll get something that will help protect the Eggs forever. Roier, distrustful of Cucurucho, stays close to keep an eye on things, and he has some back and forth interactions with Cucurucho that are reminiscent of their early day interactions, but are layered with sadness and mistrust.
Miscellaneous
Alright this post is getting long enough as it is, but let's run through some other oddities:
When Cellbit was trying to join the Federation, Cucurucho gave him a task that was specifically about Roier, asking him what he needs to be happy, why he's sad, and what would make him smile. Perhaps it's understandable that Cucurucho would be interested in one of the most depressed members of the Island, because the whole point of the Island is to make people happy, but considering their past friendship / relationship, detail of Cucurucho singling out Roier is something worth noting (particularly since it knows Cellbit is also close to Roier). Also idk, something about the way it's phrased as, "What would make him smile?" makes my heart ache
Cucurucho's task and Cellbit's answers:
Other things of interest other people have brought up:
Roier (used to) keep all the books Cucurucho gave him in a chest
I should also note here that Cucurucho has always been kind to Jaiden as well. Despite terrifying her that first day, it also gave her a blue parrot. While Jaiden has always been cautious of Cucurucho, she's always been polite as well. When everyone went to save Bobby, she stopped to say thank you to Cucurucho (presumably thanking it for giving them the chance to save Bobby).
There's a lot I could say about Jaiden's interactions with Cucurucho, but if I did this post would be twice as long, so I'll have to save that for another day I'm afraid :'D
If there's anything I missed, please send it to me so I can add it here, or add it in the reblogs!
UPDATE: This thread compiles even more moments between Cucurucho and Roier and includes translated clips
#I spent way too much time on this#again#I really need to stop doing this this is legitimately sucking up so much of my time. agh#QSMP#Cucurucho#Roier#QSMP talk#QSMP Info#I kid you not I spent 2 hours looking for the timestamp where Cucurucho warned Roier about the bed misclick rule#because I was so flabbergasted I'd never seen anyone talk about it#and I was sure the person who mentioned it was misremembering something or there was more context to it#but no#Cucurucho genuinely warned Roier about it#and tried to protect Bobby#agh#anyways APPRECIATE MY WORK I put effort into this#that bit abotu Roier saying ''I'm the one who gives love#I'm the one who gives tenderness#but who gives it to me? who gives me love? Tell me: who gives me love?"#is really fricking me up#I want to pick up that Cucurucho / Roier draft I started noodling on but Rubegetta fic needs to be prioritized first#Anyways if the Cellbit Cucurucho theory turns out to be true I'm gonna lose my gosh dang mind#qsmp analysis
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Fell asleep then woke back up still pissed, because:
Tim was clear when he decided on bi buck, Tommy was chosen on purpose. Someone who fit in with the team already and could fit in Buck’s life. It solved the outsider problem.
They wrote Chimney talking about how cool he was, made him and Eddie friends, had Eddie invite him to a virtual bday party, had Bobby give a huge stamp of approval saying Tommy was good for Buck, that he was good people. Made a big deal of the wedding/coming out scene.
They could have made this an off screen breakup at the beginning of season 8. Honestly, I would have accepted it better. But they brought Tommy back, showed again how he fit with Buck’s world. Showed there was no hostility between him and Eddie. They showed Tommy going above and beyond for Buck, sleeping on a couch with too small of a blanket, doting on him, staring at him with so much love, “breaking the curse,” etc.
I don’t buy Tommy’s lame excuse for breaking it off. That’s such crappy, high school writing. This man is 40 fucking years old, he’s six months into this relationship, and I’m supposed to believe he just suddenly decides he and Buck aren’t made to last? That Buck needs other partners? Please!
It also pisses me off that they had him get Buck basketball game tickets for their anniversary. He has got to know by now that Buck doesn’t actually like basketball. And why even have Abby be part of it at all? That was all part of the red string of fate theory, so it felt like an extra slap in the face to include it in their breakup.
The whole thing was so poorly executed, and it seems wrong that they had Oliver and Lou do a whole ass interview at the end of 7 to just… go nowhere in 8. Then have Lou do two exit interviews when he’s not a main anyway, so it feels worse to actually hear from him (especially when he seems as genuinely confused as we do).
They should have had it be some random guy. They shouldn’t have made the effort to include Tommy as much as they did. They shouldn’t have mentioned wanting bucktommy to be like tarlos. Shouldn’t have mentioned getting Buck off his hamster wheel. They gave fucking Taylor more time than this, and she spent the majority of her screen time using Buck to further her career.
And someone, somewhere down the line could have made a statement to stop fucking harassing Lou, seeing as they’ve known for at least a few months that he was no “threat” to anyone or anything.
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man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am
so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!
[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]
They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.
But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)
[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]
Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.
The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.
[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]
Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.
[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]
And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.
Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.
Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.
And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!
And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.
And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.
[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]
There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures
1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.
2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps
3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.
But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!
[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]
Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.
We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)
and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it
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Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere
Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit
Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not
Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there.
Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!
All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be.
He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs.
His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint.
Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like.
It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move.
That simply wouldn't do.
It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent.
“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you.
“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.”
You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.
“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags.
“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water.
Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”
You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest.
His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.
You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips.
The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned.
You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory.
It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.
And then you stopped.
He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”
“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis.
Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests.
You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life.
The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process.
You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.
“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips.
You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic.
“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth.
“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?”
“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands.
“Give me your hand.”
The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs.
You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis.
Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.
“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.”
“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”
It went on like that for a while.
One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh.
Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans.
Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else.
Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course.
He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips.
You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy.
“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.
“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing.
“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.”
You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted.
“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless.
“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”
“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.”
“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.”
Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough.
“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.”
Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”
“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.
Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his.
His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him.
How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin.
Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves.
The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted.
He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.
So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement.
The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda.
He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise.
“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”
“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum.
You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”
He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks.
It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room.
There was no way you could wave him off now.
Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied.
You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer.
His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.
He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut.
“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder.
“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point.
You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing.
“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction.
“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck.
His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right.
“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”
He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.”
“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against.
“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you.
You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.”
“Want ya. Right here.”
“Want me to what?”
Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”
You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again.
“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”
Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.”
His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow.
But he still hadn't cracked.
The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.
“Maybe some other time.”
His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.
There it is.
“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?”
You forced a nod.
“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?”
You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive.
He looked so fed up.
“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered.
Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”
You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you.
“Don't want you to beg.”
You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away.
His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans.
After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him.
You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity.
“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened.
“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb.
“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.
“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location.
“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water.
You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit.
“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back.
“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.”
Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank.
“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action.
Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.”
Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan.
Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding.
“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”
You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.
Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented.
Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to.
The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly.
You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder.
Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax.
He withdrew his finger and you whined.
“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”
You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.”
His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.
There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised.
Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.
You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel.
Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.
You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger.
“Ew!” You gasped.
You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor.
At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.
The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest.
“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.
“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further.
“Y-you said you had condoms.”
Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs.
He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath.
“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body.
“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man.
“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.”
You didn't. Not one bit.
“But I know ya'aint.”
You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut.
His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation.
Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips.
“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust.
“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”
“Thought I was gonna regret it.”
Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly.
“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”
He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace.
It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had.
Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made.
“Get up.”
You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked.
Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed.
The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust.
“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath.
There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough.
When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.
“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!”
There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation.
“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.”
“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red.
You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.
It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache.
“Point stands.”
Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist.
The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest.
He yanked your head to the side. You gasped.
“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.
“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans.
“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle.
“More.”
He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you?
He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound.
You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on.
Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.”
“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”
Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?”
“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.”
He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air.
You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly.
Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it.
It was barely a love tap.
You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick.
He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.
“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.”
You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip.
It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch.
“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine.
“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless.
Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again.
And again.
Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him.
As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick.
He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.”
“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling.
He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you.
“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you.
Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like.
You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate.
The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss.
That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping.
Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together.
It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation.
“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”
“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.”
He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back.
The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.
The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it.
“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”
A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat.
Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.
In fights.
He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you.
You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing.
Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”
You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head.
“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision.
“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh- fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-”
He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you.
Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it.
“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl.
“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size.
“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”
“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.
“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips.
“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.
You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”
That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back.
“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”
Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”
“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”
Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”
“I'm serious.”
He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”
You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”
He nodded, going back to biting his cheek.
“How'd you last so fucking long?”
A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.
“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.”
That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses.
“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own.
“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled.
“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.”
“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”
Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again.
@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#6060requests#6060asks#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon x you#twd daryl#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead fanfic#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl x reader#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x y/n#twd fanfiction#twd x reader#twd smut#daryl dixon x female reader smut#no use of y/n#the walking dead#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead x reader
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Sunshine [4] - Ray of Light
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: A ray of light shines through the clouds.
Word Count: 4242 (to everyone who might be wondering why every chapter is turning 4k+... it's the martini I mean it baby)
CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language, mentions of sex
Series Masterlist
Logan was no stranger to the feeling of restlessness.
For him, it was around every corner; impossible to get away from. Even now, having just returned from the latest mission Charles had sent him on, he couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal, desperate to get out.
He gritted his teeth, slamming the door open to enter his room before he unzipped his suit and took it off, tossing it to the corner of the room. After putting his jeans and white shirt on, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Scott and Jean were already there, perched on the stools while Storm sat on the kitchen island, busy with a file. Rogue was rummaging through the fridge and Bobby was making a sandwich on the counter, still in his suit.
“Do we still not have beer in this place?” Logan asked to no one in particular and Storm looked over her shoulder.
“This place hasn’t stopped being a school since the last time you asked, so no.”
“Great,” he murmured. “Soda it is.”
“It’ll be good for your health,” Rogue said with a grin, then tossed him a bottle which he caught mid-air. He extended his arm in Bobby’s direction without a word and Bobby touched the bottle, making it ice cold.
“Thanks,” he grumbled and pulled himself a seat.
“Why are you in a bad mood?” Storm asked with a curious look in her eyes. “The mission was a success.”
“Is it because that guy almost stabbed you?” Bobby asked, making him frown.
“He didn’t almost stab me,” Logan said as Rogue closed the fridge, nibbling on a slice of pizza.
“When people stab you, do you get annoyed?” Bobby asked and Logan raised his brows.
“More annoyed than right now? Nah, it’s about the same.”
“To repeat, why are you so—” Jean started but stopped talking mid-sentence, a smile pulling at her lips. “Ah. I see.”
“What?”
“We were supposed to come back from this mission around afternoon,” she said. “And it’s Monday.”
Shit.
“Jean, stay out of my head.”
Jean grinned at him. “Oh I’m not in your head. Don’t need to be.”
Scott looked between them. “Is this about Theo’s mom?”
The impact of the simple question was almost instant on the small crowd in the kitchen. Storm immediately put the file in her lap aside to look at him, Bobby stopped making his sandwich and looked up from the jar of peanut butter he had stuck the knife in, and Rogue’s jaw dropped.
Great.
“Wait, seriously?” Bobby asked. “You and her—”
“There’s nothing,” Logan cut him off, forcing himself not to let his thoughts drift to her. “Scott has no idea what he’s talking about as usual.”
“You’re just pissed off because you’ll have to wait until Friday to see her again.”
Logan scoffed. “That has nothing to do with the situation.”
“I think you two would make a cute couple,” Storm said and Jean nodded.
“Oh absolutely.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Logan said with a frown. “And for your information, I could see her whenever I want.”
“I don’t think they’d make a good couple to be honest,” Bobby interfered, “I mean don’t get me wrong but you’re…” he motioned at him, making Logan raise his brows. “You.”
“Nothing gets past your observation skills, does it?” Logan deadpanned while Rogue suppressed a laugh and took another bite of her pizza.
“Opposites attract is definitely a thing.”
Logan opened his mouth to retort, but was instantly distracted when he heard familiar footsteps coming closer to the kitchen, making him look over his shoulder. It wasn’t long until Theo appeared at the door in his pajamas, making Rogue let out an “aw!”.
“Hi Theo.”
“Hi Miss Rogue!” Theo gave them a happy smile. “And Mr. Logan and Miss Storm and Mr. Cyclops and Miss Jean and Mr. Ice Man!”
Even Logan had to admit, the kid was adorable. Theo pushed his glasses up, blinking up at them while holding a huge tin container to his chest as the small crowd in the kitchen greeted him back, making his smile bigger.
“Hi bub,” Logan said and Theo waved at him with one hand while still clutching to the tin with the other.
“What are you doing up at this hour Theo?” Storm asked and Theo looked down at the tin container, then up at them again.
“Um—” he said. “Do you know my friend Ralph?”
Bobby tilted his head. “The fish guy?”
“Yeah!” Theo nodded fervently before pushing his glasses up again. “So he told me his mom never baked him cookies, and—I didn’t know moms didn’t bake cookies because mine does whenever I feel bad, so I told my mom about that and um…yesterday she baked cookies for me to bring here,” he said, pressing his index finger on the tin as if to emphasize his point. “Everyone had one but you weren’t around, Professor X said you were busy, and I stayed up late so that you could have some cookies as well.”
She had baked cookies.
For the whole school.
Logan had to remind himself it was the middle of the night so he couldn’t in fact go all the way to her apartment to see her and kiss her and—
Focus.
He had to focus.
But for fuck’s sake, it was almost agonizing at this point. She was actually, genuinely nice, as if it wasn’t enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was, how sweet she smelled, and just how much he wanted to—
Not going there, he forced himself to think. Focus.
Theo made his way to the kitchen island and stood up on his tiptoes to place the tin on the island, making Jean press a hand on her chest and Storm smile softly. Scott ruffled his hair, making him smile up at him.
“Thank you, Theo,” Jean said. “Please tell your mom we thank her as well.”
“Of course!” Theo said, his voice cheerful. “Good night!”
“Good night bub.”
“Good night Theo!”
“I’m so going to babysit when you two get together,” Rogue said through her teeth as if she was hanging by a thread while Bobby rushed to the container to open it the moment Theo left the kitchen. “I swear to God, Logan—”
“No, I agree with Bobby,” Scott said. “She’s too nice for him.”
Bobby pointed at Scott with the cookie he was holding while Logan flipped him and Storm grabbed two cookies, tossed one to Rogue and turned to Jean.
“I’ll fill Charles in about the mission, are you coming?”
“Sure,” she said and grabbed a cookie as well. “I’ll see you guys later.”
With that they both walked out of the kitchen, Storm talking about what an adorable kid Theo was before Bobby popped the cookie into his mouth, then let out a moan.
“Jesus this is too good!” he said. “No I’m serious Logan, she’s like actually pretty and nice and bakes cookies. When was the last time you did anything nice for us?”
“I saved your life like half an hour ago, dipshit,” Logan pointed out, making Rogue laugh. “And every word out of your mouth makes me think I should’ve sat that one out.”
Scott chuckled and took out a cookie out of the container, then nodded at Logan.
“Do you want to have one or do you want to go ring shopping—” he started but he was cut off when one of Bobby’s friends, Caleb, if Logan wasn’t mistaken, entered the kitchen.
“Storm said there were cookies?”
“Over there.” Bobby motioned at the kitchen island. “Theo’s mom made them.”
“Oh she's such a babe,” Caleb said as he reached out for the container, making Logan turn to him while Rogue made a face. “The things I’d do, seriously, the milf of my—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence when Logan grabbed his arm and slammed it to the counter while Rogue exclaimed “Ew, Caleb!” and Scott tilted his head.
“Logan,” he said, his voice completely calm. “We’re not slamming students to flat surfaces.”
Logan gritted his teeth, glaring at Caleb whose heartbeat got much faster, the unmistakable scent of fear lingering in the air.
“Caleb, right?” he growled. “Listen Caleb, the next time I hear you talk about her, or even look at her in any way,” He unsheathed his claws, causing Caleb to let out a whine. “I will rip your fucking tongue out. Do you understand?”
Caleb nodded fervently again and Logan clenched his jaw, then pulled his hand back and Bobby grabbed Caleb by his shirt.
“It’s his first time in public, that’s why he is like this,” he said helpfully, dragging him out of the kitchen. “You fucking dumbass….”
“Sure,” Scott said after a beat, turning to Logan. “There’s nothing going on between you and her.”
Logan sipped his soda. “Shut up.”
Scott held up his hands, mocking surrender.
“Just something to think about,” he said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go find Jean. Good night.”
“And I’m gonna find Bobby and smack Caleb,” Rogue said, pushing herself off the counter. “Good night Logan.”
“Good night kid,” Logan said as they both left the kitchen and he narrowed his eyes at the container on the kitchen island before making his way to it. He grabbed a cookie to bite into it, his eyes closing as the sweetness crumbled inside his mouth, making him let out a breath.
A scene flashed before his eyes, something out of a dream; him in a cabin in the woods with her in his arms. He buried his nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent into his lungs as he pressed her warm body against his, her heartbeat getting faster before he forced himself to open his eyes again, taking a deep breath.
“Keep it together,” he muttered to himself and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, then pushed himself off the counter and made his way upstairs.
*
Throughout the week, it was one mission after the other. He was beginning to think Charles was doing it on purpose, and when Friday finally arrived, as much as he hated to admit, he could barely focus on anything else.
“Come on, to the lake!” one of the boys said as he walked past them. “Ralph, where’s Theo?”
“Professor X wanted to see him, and I think he left already,” he heard the boy say. “Ugh, I was gonna show him this new fish in the lake! It’s huge!”
Left?
No, he was still around. Logan could hear his happy chatter with someone through the chatter of the crowd but her scent wasn’t anywhere near so he followed Theo’s voice downstairs, stepping out of the building before—
“Have a nice weekend Mr. Logan!”
Logan’s head whipped around as Theo waved at him, then looked up to the man beside him as he took off his backpack so that the man could take it from him. “Uncle Jamie, this is Mr. Logan!”
What the fuck?
“Who the hell are you?” Logan asked the brunette, making him frown at the apparent hostility in his voice, but he didn’t dwell on it.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Jamie. I’m picking up the little guy today.”
“No you’re not,” Logan scoffed. “Do we even know who you are?”
“You don’t, but the school does,” Jamie said after a beat. “I appreciate the caution but his mother called Professor Xavier beforehand to let him know, so it’s okay.”
“Uncle Jamie, Mr. Logan helped mommy out with the car when it broke down, and he drove her home the other day, I heard mommy talk about it with auntie Julie!”
Jamie tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “…How helpful of him.”
“And Uncle Jamie is the hero who saved me when I was in mommy’s belly, Mr. Logan!” Theo introduced him, making Logan raise his brows.
“Is that right?”
“I was an intern, Theo was a premature birth.”
“And you do years long follow up with all your patients or is this one a special case?” Logan asked as a dry smile twitched Jamie’s mouth before he clicked his tongue.
“It is,” he said. “I could ask you the same question though. Do you drive every parent home, or is this one a special case?”
Okay no, he did not like this prick.
However, Theo was right there so he had to mind his language, for his sake.
“You know what Theo, I’m pretty sure I just heard your friends say they were going to the lake,” Logan said, making Theo’s eyes widen. “They were talking about this huge fish. Do you want to go with Uncle Jamie or do you want to stick around a little to see that fish?”
“Really?!”
“Go ahead,” Logan said. “Uncle Jamie will wait. Won’t you, bub?”
Theo didn’t even wait for Jamie’s answer as he darted for the yard, and Jamie gritted his teeth, shaking his head slightly.
“Unbelievable…” he muttered. “Are you even a teacher here?”
“Sometimes,” Logan said with a shrug of his shoulders and Jamie hummed, then took out his phone and touched the screen before taking it to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.
“Hi Jamie!”
It was almost funny, how her soft voice managed to put Logan in a better mood instantly but he tried not to think about it.
“Hi sunshine,” Jamie said, making Logan frown. “Listen, Theo wants to hang out with his friends a little more. Should I wait or…?”
“No no, you go back to the hospital,” she said. “I’ll leave in like an hour or so anyway. It’s a good thing that he’s socializing so um—just, let him.”
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “Thank you again Jamie, really.”
“No problem honey.”
“You can follow the way back,” Logan said, nodding in the direction of the gates when Jamie hung up and he heaved a sigh.
“I know your type, you know?”
“I doubt it.”
“No no, I do,” Jamie said, motioning at him. “This whole tough guy bullshit isn’t gonna impress her.”
A cocky smirk curled his lips. “What, are you threatened?”
Jamie scoffed a laugh.
“That’s not what this is,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already tell she deserves better than you.”
That—
That was true actually. Even Logan knew that; hell, he had been trying to make himself understand that ever since he had met her, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t.
Knowing it wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking about her.
“Guess you and I have one thing in common then,” Logan stated. “But I seem to be making better progress in a month than you have in years, huh?”
Jamie shook his head.
“See you around,” he said before he walked away and Logan took a deep breath, then ran a hand through his hair.
“Asshole…” he muttered and made his way through the yard to keep an eye on Theo in case he got too close to the lake.
*
The strange thing wasn’t that he smelled her the minute she arrived.
It was what her scent did to him.
As soon as the familiar sweetness tickled his nostrils, his head snapped up and he looked around, then got up from the bench he was sitting on, painfully aware of his heartbeat getting faster. He strode through the yard, away from where Theo and his friends were running around and towards the gates, where her scent was stronger.
He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smell like him.
Jamie.
He had no idea why he was getting so worked up on the existence of that asshole, but somehow that detail alone managed to soothe the hot jealousy running through his veins. He knew Jamie had a point, he had been saying the same thing to himself ever since he met her, yet it didn’t mean…
There she was.
He didn’t know how she managed to look everyone and everything else in shadows where she herself was the only thing illuminated as if she had her own ray of sunlight falling over her. The mere sight of her was enough to make him stare at her as she waved at him, her heart pacing in her chest as soon as her eyes fell on him, the pleasant sound nearly deafening in his ears—
No.
He had to focus.
Logan had seen wild animals in captivity before. How they would be straining at their leash, how they would be slamming against their cage, nearly blind with the desire to be let loose and lately, whenever she was around, she had the same effect on him.
“Hey stranger!” she said with a bright smile as she reached him. “Are you okay? You seem…tense.”
Shit.
“Me?” Logan asked. “Nah. Hi.”
Good string of sentences there.
“Hi,” she said, looking up at him. “Look at that, you’re here.”
Logan pulled his brows together. “I live here.”
“No no, I meant—” her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the misunderstanding. “Right, of course you do. It’s just that, when I dropped Theo off on Monday you weren’t here, not that I noticed—disclaimer, I definitely did notice in case it has escaped your notice—but you know, I figured you were busy, and then Theo said…”
Alright, why did he find this cute?
Since when did he find things cute?
“And he must’ve seen someone’s suit or something because now he wants one, and I told him he can have one for Halloween but guess who didn’t think that through, because now I’ll have to tell Julie, she’s the arts and crafts person to go to in a situation like this. I’m just going to bribe her with cookies which is everyone’s favorite payment method I feel like …”
Don’t kiss her.
Do not kiss her.
A part of him wanted to go check with Charles to make sure he wasn’t fucking with his mind, to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination because this wasn’t normal. Having her within his reach, all he could think about was pulling her closer, kissing her and taking her to his bed upstairs, to taste her until the only thing left in her mind was his name, her body trembling, her soft voice hoarse while she begged for—
“And I’ll stop talking now because you’re giving me that look again, do I have something on my face?”
Fuck.
She was looking up at him with a small frown pinching her brows together so he shook his head and said the first thing he could come up with:
“I tried the cookies.”
…Yeah no, Charles had to be fucking with his mind to make him this tongue tied.
“Did you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you like it?” she asked, her heartbeat getting faster like she was nervous to hear the answer and Logan nodded his head.
“It was amazing,” he said, making her let out a breath, a happy light shining in her eyes.
“Really?”
“I’m serious,” Logan said, “The best cookie I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Aw, that’s wonderful!” she said, smiling wide. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies, so when Theo mentioned his friend I figured— do you know where he is by the way?”
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“By the lake with his friends,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you.”
“Finally in the welcoming tour committee huh?” she joked as she started walking beside him and he chuckled.
“Only for you.”
“Much appreciated,” she said. “I was gonna come earlier actually but there was this thing at work, it was a disaster.”
“What happened?”
“Well, the grill stopped working around the lunch hour,” she said. “They fixed it but waiting for food makes people very grumpy. There was this one customer, he…” she made a face, making him frown.
“What?”
“He was in a very bad mood but thankfully he calmed down when I gave him ice tea on the house.”
Logan shook his head slightly. “You should stop being so nice to people, princess.”
That seemed to make her heart skip a beat, causing a small smile to curl his lips while her hand shot up to her mouth for her to bite at her nail.
“In my defense, that’s not being nice, that’s just being in the service industry,” she mumbled. “Good thing it was fixed fast though.”
Logan hummed.
“So…” he trailed off. “Uncle Jamie then?”
“Oh, you’ve met him?”
“I was around,” Logan lied through his teeth. “When he came here.”
“Yeah, Theo adores him,” she said, nodding her head. “Jamie saved his life when he was an intern—fun fact, some doctors don’t take you seriously when you’re pregnant at 18 and completely clueless, so I knew something was wrong but he was the only one who believed me. He got chewed out by his supervisor but he ended up saving Theo’s life.”
Logan frowned, distracted from the Jamie issue for a moment.
“His father wasn’t there?”
“Nope,” she said with a bitter smile. “He was uh…busy.”
What the fuck?
“Do you know where he is now?” Logan asked, anger shooting through him and she let out a laugh.
“He’s in the past,” she said. “And he should stay there.”
He wanted to insist, he really did. The guy sounded like the type of asshole who really needed to get his ass beaten, but before he could ask, she had already changed the subject.
“But yeah, Jamie is amazing,” she said. “He’s very protective, he’s like the brother I never had.”
He bit back the pleased smile threatening to pull at his lips at the second part of that sentence and hummed.
“Yeah?” he said. “Does he know that?”
“Hm?”
“That he’s the brother you never had?”
She blinked up at him in confusion, her brows pinching together before a look of realization downed on her beautiful face, her heartbeat getting faster.
“He does,” she said, nodding her head. ��So does his boyfriend.”
…Ah.
He had misunderstood the situation.
That had to be what Jamie meant when he had said “That’s not what this is,” he wasn’t trying to get with her, he was genuinely cautious about strangers such as himself. That whole exchange made sense now, considering the story about him saving Theo’s life; he had met her when she was alone, and had been trying to keep her and Theo safe ever since.
Of course.
“And he’s in a very happy relationship with him,” she added. “Unlike—you know, unlike me who’s not in a relationship at all, totally single. Not that you asked but it’s like…it’s like general trivia about me, and—whoa, today is a hot day isn’t it? Because honestly, it wasn’t this hot when I left the car—”
“Mom!”
“Oh thank God,” she muttered as she turned her head to look at Theo who was running at full speed to them and Logan bit back his grin as Theo reached them and flung himself into her arms.
“I missed you bean!” she said, hugging him tight and kissing the top of his hair. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah!” Theo said, his glasses slipping as he nodded fervently and she pushed them up again with a fond look on her face. The sight sent a warmth through Logan’s chest, a smile he didn’t even notice curling his lips. “We saw a big fish!”
“Really?” she gasped, her whole attention on him, hanging onto every word he said. “How big was it?”
“This big!” Theo spread his arms as wide as he could, making her smile widen.
“Whoa, that sounds big!” she said. “What color was it?”
She was too good at this. Even an outsider could see how excited Theo was to tell her everything, how genuinely happy he was to have her there and how attentive she was with him.
“Gray,” Theo answered. “Mom, maybe it’ll grow up to be a shark!”
Logan tilted his head and she exchanged glances with him as if telling him not to tell Theo it would not in fact grow up to be a shark, and Logan winked at her, making her giggle.
“Maybe,” she said, turning to Theo. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Theo said and she fixed his shirt, then took his backpack from him to swing it over her shoulder.
“Say goodbye to Logan.”
“Goodbye Mr. Logan!”
Logan ruffled his hair. “Have a great weekend bub.”
“I’ll see you around?” she asked and Logan couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful face before reminding himself to pull himself together.
“Yeah,” he said, trying to focus. “Don’t be too nice to people until then.”
Her smile widened and she heaved a sigh, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.
“Don’t be too mean to people until then,” she replied and took Theo’s hand, walking away with him. He could hear her asking what else he had seen in the lake and Theo listing every single fish he had seen so he watched them until they were out of his line of sight, then let out a breath.
“Fuck…” he muttered, frowning to himself. “She’s beautiful, got it. Get your shit together.”
5 - Dusk
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#james logan howlett
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Part One
They don't tell anyone. Not about the marriage certificate, at least. Buck comes back from his conference with a new-old boyfriend and money exchanges hands despite protest from the losers that Bobby had inside knowledge.
(He did not.)
They put the rings away. They talk a bunch of shit out that they'd only skimmed the surface of on the patio of that dingy bar.
Buck buys him that beer.
Finally.
Things are - things aren't easy. Buck skips ahead in his own mind and desperately backpedals before Tommy notices (he hopes). Tommy continues to be tight lipped about things, goes with the flow more often than he should and absolutely hates being called out about it.
Eddie is slow to readjust to having Tommy back in their lives.
With Chris back, he swears up and down he believes Buck that they're both serious about this, but he invites Tommy over less, doesn't involve him in Chris's life as often. Buck tries desperately not to let Eddie's hesitancy inform any of the feelings bubbling in his chest, any of the half-formed futures in his head.
Bobby calls Tommy and they go out for coffee and Tommy spends a week pretending to be so fucking fine about whatever they talked about that Buck starts baking again.
Tommy's abs get a little less defined.
Buck takes him to a gay bar, because they never did that before, never explored anything that wasn't just the two of them, never talked about the community or the history or the impact of being queer. The first time someone approaches their spot at the corner of the bar, Tommy seems to be trying incredibly hard not to read into any of the reactions Buck is having, and failing miserably.
But the thing is. The thing is Buck did this on his own. Petty, unhappy, Tommy's words swirling in his head, he's tried a few dozen times to find another person remotely as appealing as the one at his side, and they'd all fallen short.
When the guy asks Buck if he wants to dance Buck blurts out words before he can think about it that he's absolutely certain are gonna send Tommy spiraling. "Appreciate the offer, but I'm here with my husband. We're celebrating."
The guy blinks. He's young. Younger than Buck, slim and attractive, dark brown eyes and light brown skin that glows golden even in the crappy bar lighting. His gaze darts almost eagerly between them, like he's seeing something he hadn't expected. Something hopeful blooms in his gaze, and Buck - oh.
Buck gets it.
That's a lot of weight to carry just for existing in the world and trying to snatch some happiness from it.
Buck smooths a hand over Tommy's knee and smiles at him, something soft and settled that has been harder to find this time around but still curls up against his spine like it belongs there.
The kid buys them a round and leaves.
"What are we celebrating?" Tommy asks, and Buck pretends not to notice the way his thumb is rubbing over the bare patch of skin where Buck had slid a ring, a few months ago. He's not freaking.
"Whatever we want," Buck says with a shrug, and doesn't mention that neither one of them have brought up the marriage certificate tucked away in Tommy's safe since they got back from Vegas.
---
"The Abby thing is still weird," Buck says, breath heaving as Tommy rearranges Buck's legs and tucks himself into Buck's side. They'd spent an evening talking candidly about their exes because Buck can't understand how they went six months without realizing.
Tommy's hands shift through the hair Buck stopped shaving the first time Tommy admitted he preferred it to the baby smooth skin Buck had tried desperately to maintain for the first four months. It's just now feeling normal, after so many years of keeping it smooth.
"I think she'd freak more than you did."
"I managed to implode a six month relationship with my freak, Tommy."
Tommy chuffs a laugh. Slides his calf up and down Buck's lower leg, and despite the fact that Buck has a few more notches in his belt that'd had that same scritch of hair against his, Buck relishes the feel just because it's Tommy.
"You had help." He pauses, though, tips his chin and tucks it against the give of Buck's shoulder. "I'm not implying her reaction was particularly homophobic, but - I think that was the worst part, for her. The fact that I hadn't just lied about how I felt. It was - she assumed I couldn't feel it."
Buck can't help the brow raise. "Tommy, you're a Kinsey six."
"I still loved her."
He's been working his way through romantic vs sexual vs platonic and learning a whole hell of a lot in the process. He gets Tommy's point. He's thrilled that Tommy is still in a sharing mood. It's just -
Tommy shifts, noses into Buck's underarm. Breathes deep, and Buck has to fight the urge to shove him away.
"If I'm totally off base here tell me, but I think you loved her like I love Eddie."
Tommy narrows his eyes. Contemplates. "Tell me again how jealous of his hair you were when you met," he decides on, and shrieks when Buck digs a finger into his ribs in retaliation.
---
They fight, and it's thrilling.
They never did that before. Minced their words and apologized and let it all drop away but never actually let it go, and when Tommy gets on a roll he's bitchy as hell. It drives Buck insane. He wants to wring his fucking neck. He wants to take him to the mat and actually learn enough about Muay Thai to stand a chance lasting two minutes. He wants to throw him against a wall and jack him off until he sees stars.
"He wouldn't do the same for me, Evan, so why should I bother?!"
Tommy's dad is dying. According to Tommy, it's days or weeks, not months or years, and Tommy had said it so emotionless that Buck had jokingly tried to check him for panels and plugs and wiring. Tommy hadn't appreciated the robot joke.
"Screw your dad, Tommy! Do it for yourself."
"I'm not like you, Evan! That bridge burned a decade ago. I don't need - ." He pinches the bridge of his nose. Grimaces and sucks in a breath. Usually that means he's yanking back words he knows he'll regret. Rearranging them in his mind until they're less likely to sting. "I don't want a death bed reconciliation any more than I want to be proven right about him."
Buck takes two weeks off to help Tommy plan the funeral.
Tommy tosses the contents of the urn into the ocean two weeks later, and when Buck asks about it, Tommy gives him a shifty look, like he thinks the answer might send Buck running. "He hated the ocean."
It's the last time they talk about his dad, for a while.
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