#also I'm at the end of my period so maybe I'm still a little bit more emotional than normal anyway atm

[murobrown]

.

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

Sending you lots of love. And I feel you on the leg hair thing. My own hair is thick and grows rather long everywhere. When I shave my legs in the evening the next morning they already feel like my grandfather's cheek. It's hopeless. But babes don't feel ashamed of going to the salon. Body i hair is perfectly natural and not gross and all the people working there see lots of body hair every single day. Nobody will think anything weird, I promise. What music are currently listening to? I'm fully back in my Enya era these days (the music that accompanied my early childhood). I hope the rest of this Friday is kinder to you and that you'll have a beautiful weekend💝💝

This anon made me tear up when I first read it and every time I've re-read it, I've had the same result. Thank you so much 🥹 I always feel weird talking about hair removal with friends because almost everyone who removes hair either 1) has no issue with any methods they use or 2) has blonde hair so it doesn't need to be done as regularly. Meanwhile I'm over here feeling like I'm fighting for my life just trying to remove unwanted hair without irritating or damaging my skin, ESPECIALLY in my inner thigh area lol (which is why I so seldom bother unless I expect to be sexually active bc I'm like "BRO that took me like over an hour to do last time, now I gotta do it all over again?!?! Fuck off"... which also sometimes influences how often I'm willing to be sexually active lol. It's a vicious cycle lmao and i fucking hate it ♡).

I'm gonna go back to razors for the moment and maybe go to a salon sometime. And I'm absolutely getting that hair lasered off once I'm settled in a particular place, sale or no sale.

I think one reason I'm so upset about it atm is because I *KNOW* it's such a stupid and ridiculous thing to be upset about (there are fucking wars happening and I'm upset over some long leg hair on my own body that I know naturally grows there? Gtfo) but I also feel so stupid about it affecting my confidence so much. I'm the type who prefers wearing dark tights anyway, hair or no hair, but that isn't always viable when it's warm. Or maybe i just feel like a change! And I have no problem with body hair on others at all, yet for some reason I've a problem if I show mine lol. Anyway WHATEVER, I have something internalised but I've no idea what and I've tried managing it in the past but I think tonight really just proved I need to fix my shit.

In terms of music, I'm REALLY vibing with the Succession Season 1 soundtrack atm. It makes a girl dream ;P AND motivates me to get my shit done, hahaha. Oooh Enya is so beautiful and ethereal 💖🩷🤍✨️ Also the fact she lives as a recluse in a castle and seems to live comfortably is just...ICONIC!!

Anyway, thank you again for your kind words. I know it's silly to say but it really meant a lot (I keep tearing up as I answer you 😅). I'm starting a new chapter in my life this weekend (if all goes according to plan) and it's going to be scary but also necessary. I've wanted this new start for a long time and I can't believe it is slowly beginning, bit by bit. I sincerely hope you have a wonderful weekend, too. 💖🩷💛✨️

[pathologicalreid]

cryptic | S.R.

You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.

who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit) content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying. word count: 6k a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".

him

In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.

You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.

So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.

As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.

For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.

In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.

The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “

“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.

On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.

Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”

“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.

Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “

Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.

After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”

He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in?  He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.

She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.

Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”

“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.

Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?

Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.

Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”

Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”

She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.

They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.

Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.

Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.

“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.

He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.

Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.

You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.

Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.

Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”

You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.

Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”

He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”

A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.

Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.

Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “

Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.

Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.

She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”

Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.

“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.

He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?

The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.

Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”

“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.

Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.

The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.

Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.

“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”

Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.

Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”

“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.

“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”

Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”

Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.

“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”

Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “

That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.

You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”

He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.

He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”

You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”

Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.

Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.

He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”

You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”

Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”

Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.

In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”

He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.

You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”

The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.

“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.

Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”

You grunted in protest, “but what- “

“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”

Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.

He loved the sound of that.

you

You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.

For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.

Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.

“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”

“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.

He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.

You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.

Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.

Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.

Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.

That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.

Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”

You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.

This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.

When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.

Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.

It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?

Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”

You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.

“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.

As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.

By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.

“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”

You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.

She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”

After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.

Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.

You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”

Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”

She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself. 

You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”

“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.

The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.

Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”

You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”

“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”

Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.

“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours. 

You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”

Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”

“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”

You snorted, “Of course you did.”

No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.

“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.

You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.

Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.

As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.

“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.

Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.

“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.

There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.

Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.

“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.

You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”

Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”

Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”

“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.

Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.

You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.

JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”

Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”

The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.

“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.

Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.

Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.

You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.

“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.

He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”

Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”

“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.

You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."

He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”

“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.

You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.

Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.  

please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: F.L.U.D.D. (Flash Liquidizer Ultra Dousing Device)

Debut: Super Mario Sunshine

F.L.U.D.D. was Mario's first ever Platforming Buddy! Unless you count the Lakitu Bros. from 64, but they just operate the camera and don't affect Mario's platforming moveset, so I do not. So really, F.L.U.D.D. is- hold on, I really don't want to write every individual period each time I write its name. I'm just going to leave all the periods at the end of the post and you can put them where they belong yourself, or anywhere else you think is funny. Or you can keep them, I don't mind. Put them on a bagel and tell a friend they're poppy seeds!

FLUDD is a big deal. A landmark for the series in terms of mechanics. Not that these specific mechanics returned, but the concept of a buddy granting Mario some new abilities has become a recurring thing. FLUDD even talks, and is fully voice acted! In a robot voice! Like mine! A cute and silly little robot buddy for Super Mario.

So then... why don't I absolutely LOVE it? I feel like I should! But I'm just not getting that urge to imagine it driving a kart or playing tennis like I do with far less important characters. Does it work so well as a Tool that I have a hard time viewing it as a Character? Let's See!

I think FLUDD's design is honestly kind of perfect. The two massive screws that evoke eyes are really clever, and especially great is that they give it + shaped "pupils"! Aside from that, the nozzle's funnel shape is an extremely funny shape for a mouth, and FLUDD does indeed speak out of there. Excellent head! Though I feel like the excitement fizzles out once you look past the head, because the rest is much more "equipment" than "character". That's fine, this IS a piece of equipment! It just makes it feel less like a character, when I'd like it to have a bit of a balance of both. Maybe if the handles also functioned as little feet that it could walk around on? I don't know. Maybe that would be stupid... but I do love when creature designs are stupid!

FLUDD was made by E. Gadd, but that's all the backstory we get. We never learn why it was just there on the Delfino Airstrip, and that's really weird! The perfect tool to combat the game's main conflict is just there immediately when Mario arrives. It could have been a cool little mystery, but I guess the reality is just that some Pianta ordered it when the Goop Incident happened and got express delivery. Or maybe someone already had it and was just waiting for a calamity like this to happen, to justify the purchase!

I don't need to go over everything FLUDD does, right? I'm not the Super Mario Wiki, it's not my job! I'm here for the Weird. And a weird thing is that FLUDD freaken dies.

During the final boss against Bowser's Hot Tub, FLUDD starts stuttering, as if breaking down. And then in the final cutscene... it Dies! Mario goes to it, it tells him it hopes it was of assistance, and it dies. And Mario is sad, because this was his friend. But then in the very next scene FLUDD is back! Some Toads fixed it and it's fine now. So this ends up having the emotional impact of Mario needing to change the battery on his TV remote.

Even though it's our and Mario's friend, FLUDD is still an object, a product. It's technically not just FLUDD, but A FLUDD, one of many, mass produced. I have to wonder if it actually formed any bond with Mario, or if it was a one-sided friendship. Is it even capable of friendship...?

Whatever the case, the others absolutely consider FLUDD a friend, and well, that's just so sweet. During the credits we get to see some extremely compressed pictures of Mario and friends enjoying their real vacation, and FLUDD is there with them! It's not even on Mario's back anymore, or always WITH Mario, for that matter. Sometimes it's hanging out with Peach and some Toads, sitting there independently. I think it is safe to say FLUDD is a real true friend, and likes to just Hang Out sometimes! Even better, maybe it wasn't originally sentient, but learned how to love over the course of the adventure. Such a wonderful robot thing to do!

As expected, thinking in depth about FLUDD has absolutely endeared me to it. Hooray! It's about time. Well, it's too late for FLUDD to be relevant again, probably. I'm not saying it should be a driver in Mario Kart, but I AM saying there should be a kart based on it, and I'm also saying that this kart should canonically be the FLUDD, now upgraded. This feels like something that should have happened long ago!

This has been a long post, but it is far from all FLUDD has had to discuss! So next time, I will post about FLUDD once more, and its various appearances during the GameCube days and beyond! There is milk involved at some point. Get excited to learn what milk has to do with any of this!

Here are all those periods you were promised! I hope you like them.

....................................................................................................

[yamujiburo]

Do you think you could info dump all that you know about Madame Boss and Mayomoto with drawings? I would love to know more about their dynamic and about young Giovanni with baby Jessie. Maybe Delia could ask Jessie about it in a comic? Would it be sad or nostalgic? Maybe both? Like a flashback or something would be cool! Anyway, love your art and everything that you do!! ❤️

I'm not sure I can get it out in just drawings (just because it's a lot) but I have quite a few I've already done if you wanna look through my tags~ I'll also explain a bit here with some of my old comics. Long post under the cut~

Canonically, Madame Boss is the founder of Team Rocket and Giovnanni's mother. Miyamoto was one of her elite agents and Jessie's mother. They're REALLY close as evidenced by how they talk to one another (ex. Madame Boss calling Miyamoto "Miyamoto chan", Miyamoto's informal way of speaking to Madame Boss despite her being her superior, their friendly banter, etc.). Madame Boss sends Miyamoto and two other Team Rocket members on a mission to find Mew, but she and the other members never return. Miyamoto's implied to still be alive, endlessly chasing Mew with Jessie as her north star and reason to keep going. Madame Boss passes away sometime between the radio drama and before the events of the first Pokémon Movie. You can listen to the whole drama here! Madame Boss and Miyamoto are primarily in the first part, but Miyamoto pops up at the end of each of the other parts at different periods of time.

This is more where my headcanons begin! Miyamoto, whose dub name I hc being (Calamity) Jane, joined Team Rocket mostly because of her not great circumstances. She works her way up the ladder quickly and impresses Madame Boss. They become close but at the time, Miyamoto was dating a charismatic performer/con man that MB, not so subtly, doesn't approve of. She was right to not approve as this man got Miyamoto pregnant but left her before he'd known.

Madame Boss, despite her penny pinching behavior (Team Rocket wasn't that big yet), does what she can to help out Miyamoto. They had to tread carefully though, they didn't want anyone thinking there was any sort of favoritism happening.

Jessie is born, and for a little while Miyamoto keeps her and raises her the best she can. On more short term missions she'd leave her with Madame Boss, who's not super fond of children, and would have her own son Giovanni watch her (or have another grunt in Team Rocket watch her). This wasn't sustainable, so Miyamoto quickly puts Jessie in foster care (the foster care part is canon). Miyamoto would still visit her daughter whenever she could.

Ultimately, Miyamoto was a very driven, one track minded woman. She would constantly go on missions and after discovering Mew, became obsessed. It was around this time Madame Boss was starting to catch feelings for Miyamoto. Miyamoto would play along but was not nearly as invested in their relationship is Madame Boss was. Not in a malicious or leading on sort of way, she just had a job she wanted to get done

When it was time for Miyamoto to go on the mission to actually find Mew, Madame Boss, while excited at the prospect of getting her hands on a legendary Pokémon and the money that came with that, began to worry in the days leading up to the mission and tried to get Miyamoto to stay. She offered to send a different team out. To her they were disposable, but Miyamoto wasn't. Miyamoto didn't take the offer, wanting the glory and money of finding Mew for herself (but also had a daughter she wanted to get back to and be able to provide for). She leaves and goes MIA

Madame Boss is brokenhearted and after several years of Miyamoto going missing, is not able to run Team Rocket, troubled by the immense amount of guilt and heartache, and Giovanni takes over. She remains in the organization, more so operating in the background. It was rare for agents to see her out and about. But years later she sees Jessie's joined Team Rocket as a trainee. She requests Viper and Giovanni keep an eye out for her. Viper doesn't know why but does as he's told. Giovanni understands, remembering Jessie as the little toddler he'd have to take care of many years ago as well as her mother Miyamoto, who he knew was very close to his mother.

Not too long after, Madame Boss passes away but Giovanni keeps his promise and continues to keep Jessie employed.

I don't think Jessie remembers much of her mom or anything from around this time. I don't think she even remembers her mom being in Team Rocket or Giovanni babysitting her. She just remembers her mother leaving and never coming back and holds some resentment, not knowing the context of why Miyamoto disappeared.

I've thought about doing a story where Miyamoto returns in my hanamusa au but I still gotta think it out more. It starts with Miyamoto stopping by Delia's restaurant and she and Delia talk, not knowing the little connection they have via Jessie.

[shepscapades]

... that lean makes me think of the lean Bdubs did in the syncing comic....which if course begs the question: Did Etho pick up this habit of leaning to indicate processing/suspicion from Bdubs or did Bdubs pick it up from Etho? (or is it just a good way to show that emotion in comic form XD) Also.... the hair clip... My impression is that the flashback is from pretty early on. Is the hair clip a precursor to the well known headband? In universe, why a headband? Since they both do wear headbands... Was the headband originally Bdub's? Is... I know Etho is scared during the whole Last Life thing... is he thinking that Bdubs is planning specifically on targeting one of the androids? Or is that his fear talking?

... And after all that speculating... Ouch, Poor Tango!! ( i know this is an important event for Tango, but we don't see any of his reaction or feelings about any of this yet)

Wonderful comic, as always, Shep!

WEEE These are such good questions omg :DDDD alright i couldn't shut up so i'm putting it under a read more =w=

this is basically a mini comic breakdown! just rambling about some of the dbhc plot and mecahnics >:D

The lean is such a fun detail, i didn't even realize the similarities-- but it's actually a really nice (totally intentional) callback! I think Etho absolutely picked up those mannerisms from Bdubs, the same way Doc did from Ren, and so on so forth-- the androids, especially throughout season 8 and last life, are using their partnered hermits (and the other hermits in general) to learn what it means to be and act human-- vocal mannerisms, physical mannerisms, learning emotions for the first time and what it means to feel them, everything! I kind of see Season 8 as their "young" period-- their first season, the season they learn who they are and develop some of their most iconic traits. Etho is still himself, shyness and stoicism and all, but he learns his whimsy and silliness and teasing nature from being with bdubs for so long :)

THE HAIR CLIP <333 Yeah Etho's "Replaying Memory" moment is when Doc was checking out his "wounds" / the damage he sustained (from the initial creeper blast that caused his deviation) for the first time! At the time of the memory, It had probably been a little while since the actual initial incident where Bdubs had covered him up a little bit to hide the damage, but i'm sure doc or someone else noticed before long LDFKGJDF so this is their first like... "checkup"! So Etho is pretty young here (Doc too, but he already has his robot arm at this point, so...), maybe within the first month or two of season 8. So he definitely normally wears a bandana at this point (the same band bdubs made him wear initially to cover up the forehead cracks a little), but he's clipped his bangs back here so Doc can get a better look at the damage :)

I have a LOT of feelings about Etho's mental dialogue throughout last life, and it's very complicated and i won't be able to shut up about it so that's for another post. I will say, I don't think Etho ever truly thought Bdubs would Boogey kill him (though, doubt is a very powerful thing, so it turns out). I think Etho is still puzzling Bdubs out (though he's definitely learned quite a lot about him), especially when it comes to more serious situations like this, so the unknowns are definitely the biggest sources of fear for him. He can only do so much with the data he currently has, and the idea that a weapon so sharp could permanently damage any of the androids... it's an unsettling thought, regardless of whoever the mostly likely victim ends up being. (I don't think Etho expects it to be Tango, either-- not until he sees that look in Bdubs' eyes 10 seconds before it happens. I think Doc's little speech about their models is just helpful information for the reader and a sense of foreshadowing (as well as a reminder for Etho of how Not-So-Indestructible he is/the other androids are), not so much that etho thinks it's going to be tango after recalling the memory. Same for Bdubs. I dont think bdubs decided to target Tango until he was staring the back of his neck down and realized he could take the opportunity before he lost it). Anyway i've already rambled too much /silly

And lastly, Yes. This is, besides his deviation, probably Tango's most formative moment. The second time he truly experiences rage. I don't know if I could do a comic or an illustration that truly does his rage moment justice after he wakes up post-respawn and has a meltdown trying to kill bdubs, but knowing that Skizz wasn't built until s9 and is therefore missing from Last Life (AKA, Tango has no one other than Etho and Bdubs), just... makes this betrayal so, so much more painful. This betrayal is very much about Tango's rage, but it's also about his sense of trust and safety and his understanding of the way the world works. Hermitcraft is safety and jokes and support, and sure there's a bit of death here and there, but this is unlike anything he's ever known-- it's adrenaline and fear and threats and betrayal and. Anyway what a normal meltdown to have! And Etho can do nothing to calm him down except hold him back from killing bdubs (there's something to be said there too, about Tango knowing for certain now that Bdubs obviously chooses Etho over himself (Because come on, Bdubs wouldn't have killed Etho. Let's be honest here), but knowing too that Etho is choosing bdubs by not letting Tango get the revenge he so rightfully deserves...) Anyway. I think i'll explode if i think about this more

[kozachenko]

[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

[mrsrileywrites]

Hi! I read lots of your work and im SO IN LOVE!!! Like I absolutely fell so hard for papa simon 😭😭 i wanna give him a babyy! But i was wondering, how would pregnancy be like with his child. I mean bro is HUGE so his baby would probably be not only pretty big and probably weight a little bit more too than an average newborn. If its okay with you would it be possible for you to write a little story maybe add a little bit of angst? (Idk like argument about something that made the reader really sad?) but please a happy ending 🥹

Feel free to ignore if thats not your thing or just not feeling comfortable writing about it!! LOVE YOUU!! Btw sorry for any misspelling English is not my first language.

First of, as a not native English speaker, your English is perfect.

And second, thank you for your kind words, it really encourages me to keep writing and also boosts my ego 😁

You asked in such a nice and respectful way so I really want to make you happy.

Now here's the thing, I'm an adult with lots of responsibilities and sometimes adulting makes me tired, like last night when I was trying to finish this but I fell asleep and I woke up this morning to find half of my writing disappeared, it just vanished 🥲

But I'll give you this to munch on and I promise I'll finish this before the end of the week.

I hope this is what you were expecting... Enjoy 🫶

A little over 700 words.

_______________________

You stood in front of the sink of your bathroom, holding a pregnancy test on your shaky hands, two little red lines staring right back at you.

How did this happen? How would you tell him? He doesn't want kids, he made it clear from the beginning and you accepted it without a fuss, that's why you've been taking your pills diligently every day, you didn't forget one, did you?... No, you know you didn't, how did this happen?

"You okay there, love?" Simon knocks on the bathroom door and you jump in surprise, like a child that's been caught red handed.

"Y-yes Si, j-just give me a minute... I'll be right there." Your period is about three weeks late so you bought a pregnancy test, your best friends advice, it wouldn't hurt, it was just to make sure, you certainly were not expecting this.

You hid the test on the cabinet under the sink and washed your face before coming out.

It's been a week since your ob-gyn confirmed a six weeks pregnancy and you still haven't found the courage nor the right time to break the news to Simon, so when he gets a call from Price to get deployed on a long mission you fear it would be too late by the time he comes back.

One month at most he said when he kissed you goodbye almost two months ago, you are 16 weeks into your pregnancy and your bump is starting to show, which only adds to your anxiety, between the morning sickness and your hormones being all over the place you still haven't figured out how to tell him.

As you ponder how to break the news to him, you realize that a simple phone call wouldn't suffice. With him stationed on the other side of the globe, risking his life every day, you hesitate to burden him further. At the same time, you know it wouldn't be ideal for him to return home and suddenly find you waddling around with a baby bump.

So you stay quiet and whenever he calls and asks why you sound so exhausted you blame it on your job, you say you are just stressed out, and he promises he'll take care of you once he's back, he'll relieve you from the stress the way you like it, the way only he knows how to.

You are laying on the couch wearing Simon's t-shirt, stuffing yourself with your favorite ice cream and watching trash tv when you hear fumbling outside your front door before it swings open, a very rugged Simon stands in the threshold , you curse under your breath, he didn't say he was coming home the last time you talked on the phone three days ago so you stand there and look at him overly conscious of the bump hiding under his t-shir and you thank the heavens he is a big man, you think the loose fit of his T-shirt would buy you time, your ice cream long forgotten in the coffee table.

He walks towards you with long strides as he pulls his balaclava over his head running his fingers through his messy hair and you shy away, you step back and freeze, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, he stops in his tracks and tilts her head, his eyebrows pinch as his eyes linger on your midsection and you know you're fucked, he noticed, how wouldn't he, and you hope and pray he'd say something, anything, but he doesn't, he turns on his heels ready to walk out.

"Simon wait!" You call for him and he stops, his hand lingers on the door knob, "I can explain, please just hear me out" your voice cracks and you wish you had been brave enough to tell him before, you know about his childhood and his trauma, you know his struggles and why he didn't want children in the first place, he trusted you and you broke his trust, you deceived him from the moment you found out you were pregnant and decided to keep it to yourself because you were too scared to trust him back.

"Explain what?" He shouts turning around and walking towards you again, your hands fly to your belly instinctively, protective. You lower your head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part three

part four: say the one thing i've been wanting

Steve had been dreading actually talking about this with Robin. He hadn't wanted to put her in a position to feel like she had to come out or stop using him as a plus one to industry parties to fuel rumors. Even as he and Eddie pretty publicly dated Robin's agent and most tabloids still thought Robin and Steve were a couple some even going as far as insinuating Eddie was Steve's side piece or their third.

"Steve, you're kind of scaring me, what's going on?"

"Birdie, I'm only telling you this because I can't not anymore but I want you to know nothing is your fault and I literally don't need you to do anything. I just need to be able to talk to my best friend and in order to do that I kind of have to get through this uncomfortable part," Steve answered.

"Anything, Steve. Whatever you need," Robin said.

"Okay, so Eddie and I kind of broke up because Eddie assumed I was cheating on him with Nance when she came to visit earlier this year. He got really upset and kind of blocked me from any way of contacting him so there was no way to clear anything up after he left but he definitely assumed I was cheating on him and he wrote that fucking song and I just need to talk to you without leaving out this really huge massive reason why Eddie left and why I still feel like total shit," Steve rushed to cover the main points.

"Steve, hun," Nance comforted. She probably guessed something else was going on but had been understanding enough not to press Steve for more.

"Steve, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Robin started catastrophizing.

"Can you please stop saying my name. It's kind of freaking me out," Steve joked, "Robs, it's totally not your fault at all. It was a shitty situation I could have handled better and so could Eddie but there's really nothing to do about it know because I can't explain it to him and he clearly doesn't want me to so we are moving on, all right?" Steve attempted to keep the energy light.

"If that's what you want, sure babe," Robin said.

"I just want to stop going down Tik Tok rabbit holes of Eddie's stupid song without being able to complain to you about how fucking tired I am of not being able to do anything," Steve said, "and also I want so much ice cream and a really stupid TV marathon with my best girls and maybe roast Eddie's new song a little bit."

Nancy had already pulled up doordash and they were soon on their way to eating a smorgasbord of snacks and ice cream while watching reality TV and eventually dissolving into a karaoke session initially overdramatically singing along to Eddie's new single and ending with some old school Taylor (her version of course). Steve was feeling better than he had in a long time and started getting out of the fog he'd been in since Eddie had left.

Eventually, Steve started answering his agent's emails again and submitting tape for different roles. He'd gotten a part in a small indie film in Italy and Steve was pretty ready to take it. It was an interesting part, it was literally away from everyone he knew, the director was kind of weird and didn't let his cast use socials while filming and encouraged only phone calls and old school letters to really get into the period mindset. It was honestly kind of a perfect next project and it helped that the script was actually kind of great.

"As long as you aren't going because you're running away, Steve. You know I don't want you to leave and you shouldn't feel like you have to," Robin said as he was starting to pack his bags.

"I really like the project. It's a good script and I get to get out of my own head for a while. Kind of perfect honestly. The shoot is pretty short its only like four weeks so I won't be gone that long and you and Nancy can keep holing up in my apartment without me getting in the way!" Steve answered.

"You're never in the way, dingus," Robin nudged him and then brought him into a hug, "we'll just miss you kiddo."

"I'll miss you too, Bobbie. Now let me go so I can pack." Steve pulled away with a bigger smile than he'd had in weeks.

part five

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[muffinrecord]

Current Plans + Musings

I don't plan on playing Exedra to the degree I did for Magia Record, or playing it at all. Because of that, I won't be taking an active role in the community and archiving anything for it. Of course, if Exedra has like amazing gameplay and stories then this is all subject to change, but for now I think I'm done with phone games.

The two youtube channels will stay up and I'll check em periodically to make sure there aren't copyright strikes against the content. I've saved all my raw files, especially for the battle animations, so I can remake them in the future if the music ever becomes a problem for some reason.

Google Drive will stay up until Google rots away. I haven't recorded footage in a long time (as in stories, I do for the character doppels and such), but I'll upload things if they're sent to me.

Magia Union Translations still plans on translating things and making videos, especially leading up to the end, but also for after the game is over for whatever wasn't made in time. I'm not sure what form this will take in the future-- if it'll be manual captions added to the videos or not, but I know it WILL happen.

As for this blog, I'm not going to delete it or anything. However I'm going to be taking a step back. I'd like to say that I'll do liveblogs but I mean... *gestures at blog* I've been saying that for years and the only one I really did successfully was the Oriko one lmao. Ahhh oh well.

I'll have more words later, but it was really fun to be part of a fandom experience like this. I'm excited to work on my own original story projects though and quiet down a bit.

...

When I started this blog, I never expected it to have people actually read it. Or look at it. I just wanted a place to gush about how much fun I was having. I didn't even want to tag the posts with "Magia Record" at first because I was terrified people would be mean at me, haha.

But I'm glad I did. I made so many good friends through this game. I'm glad it existed. And it made me happy to have a place where people cared about what I had to say. Some folks actually got their news from here, can you imagine that? They had notifications turned on for this blog. My god.

Anyways, I'm going to be here for the next two months, and tomorrow I'll start reblogging fan projects and initiatives, plus general news. Maybe this blog will turn into a dumping site for art and fanfic reblogs, who knows. I might watch the remaining stuff and add various thoughts here and there.

Otherwise, you can find me on my main blog @malignmuffin, which only reblogs stuff (I don't talk much if at all there). I have another tumblr blog for my comic, but I think I'll reshare the name once I actually have content you can look at on it. It's pretty bare bones for the moment.

Actually it'll be funny if the end of this game is what makes me finally work on it again. I was in the process of working on it when NA came out, and it totally derailed me. Stopped writing, drawing, just focused on this silly little phone game. Now it's like those five years have gone by and I'm going back to where I started, except I think my lil comic is going to be a bit better than it was before. If I actually make it, that is.

If I ever do actually make my comic and start posting it, I'll be sure to update y'all here. hah

Anyways, thanks for being on this wild ride with me. The memories have been great, and I'm glad I had this experience, even if it had to end.

[bellysoupset]

Now I need a fic about the boxing class! I was thinking maybe Jonah ate either something bad, or he ate too much, or he was just feeling kinda weird before the class but didn’t think anything of it. And somebody in class either accidentally or on purpose punched him in the stomach(if that happens in boxing idk). I’d also like it if the whole fic was from Jon’s POV, but if you feel differently that’s fine to.

If for any reason you don’t feel like writing this no hard feelings.

"Faster," Bella panted, raising her arms as guards and glaring at Jonah. The man huffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm.

"Bells-"

"Faster!" She scoffed and Jonah gritted his teeth, throwing a harder punch at her. Bella moved away quickly, bouncing on her feet and opening a smug smile, before kicking in his direction.

Jonah was too slow, too tired and new at this, to avoid the kick and he crumbled to his knees with a pained gasp, clutching his stomach, "fucking-" a burp snuck up and Jonah slammed a hand over his lips when it turned loud and wet. He gulped down, "fuck you, Bella."

"Sorry," Bella crouched down next to him, still shaking slightly with a chuckle, "I didn't think it was going to hit that high-" she removed one of her gloves in order to plant it in his naked back, "sorry."

"Uhm," Jonah panted through the nausea and finally straightened up, sitting on the mat, "I think I'm done."

"It's the end of the class," Bell pointed out, removing her other glove, "I didn't mean to be so rough, I'm really sorry."

"It's fine," Jonah removed his own gloves, getting up, "I'll see you outside?"

"Yep," Bella jumped up quickly and they walked out of the mat, to the different locker rooms.

Jonah's easy attitude slipped off the minute he was alone in the bathroom. He moved to one of the stalls and took slow, measured breaths. If he was honest, this had little to do with Bella's kick straight to his gut. He had overdone it at lunch - not his fault the cafeteria served salmon for the first time in the month! - and all the jumping around in the gym had already been making him nauseous, the kick had only taken it up a notch.

He leaned back against the thick plastic wall and forced up a couple burps, muffling them in his fist. His stomach churned uneasily and he could taste lunch all over again, causing him to shudder, but the small release of air helped a bit and Jonah gulped down the watery sensation in his mouth.

Feeling like it was more or less safe to leave, Jon headed to the shower area.

Bella was waiting for him just outside the gym, clad in tight jeans, combat boots and an oversized biker jacket, her long curly hair was out of the braids she sported during class and limp and wet. She had that familiar frown on her face, that Jonah knew by now was just her face and lit up as she saw him.

"Hey, took you forever," Bella teased him lightly, reaching without thinking to push a humid coil from his hair away from his eyes, "do you wanna get dinner?"

It was a court day, meaning Leo was going to get home super late, so Jonah shrugged, "yeah, sure," he looked around, "you're driving today?"

"No, Luke dropped me off, he said I should call," Bella moved so she was side by side with Jonah and they started walking down the street, "if you ask me, I think he's boycotting my car."

"As he should, that's a relic from the triassic period," Jonah laughed, causing her to pout.

"Don't say that, she's my baby," Bella groaned, "I drove her here all the way from New Mexico more times than I can count, she's a trooper."

"That means she's probably a safety hazard," Jon rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the fact the heavy feeling from before was returning, sitting in his stomach like a brick, "how's work coming along?"

Bella was incredibly easy to talk to, she never took any of Jon's curt answers to the heart and offered some of her own straight to the point, no nonsense jabs.

As they walked to the restaurant they chatted about her job — she had a big project happening and everyone was super stressed about it and taking on jobs that weren't theirs to try and speed the process along —, Jonah shared some of the stories from Europe and got chewed up for treating Angie like a little kid.

"She's turning eighteen in what, a couple of months?"

"October," Jonah grumbled, holding the restaurant door open for her and Bella walked in backwards so she could keep looking at him.

"Less than six months then," she grabbed his forearm to pull him to the table she had already decided on, "I get that you're still finding your footing, but she's a big girl."

"She doesn't act like a big girl," Jonah scoffed, sitting down in front of Bella and grabbing the menu so he could avoid her piercing gaze, "she's a baby."

"She's spoiled," Bell's voice was matter of fact and Jonah looked up to glare at her, only to realize this was not a discussion he was going to win. Bella was the only one who'd ever tell him something this and stand by her opinion, Leo and Vince were both too polite to say it and Luke had no ground to even recognize it, Wendy had brought it up only once and raised her hands in defeat when Jonah prickly about it. Bella didn't give a single fuck.

He sighed and looked back down.

None of the plates looked remotely appetizing. Jonah squirmed in his seat as he felt his pants digging in his stomach, flipping the page of his menu and avoiding looking at the pictures. His belly let out a loud whine, although the restaurant's noise covered it up and Jon felt his gut bloat up a bit more.

"You don't have to glare holes in the menu, Jon," Bella rolled her eyes and reached in to grab his wrist, until he looked at her, "she's spoiled, I can say because I married the male version of her."

"Don't say that," Jonah groaned and Bell smiled, pulling back her hand.

"I don't mean it like that, I mean I married someone who was spoiled as well. And trust me, you gotta let her mess up on her own and not try to Yoda her through life, otherwise she'll make her mistakes later, when the consequences are bigger and much less understandable. You're not making her a favor by doing that."

"When you put it like that," Jonah sighed, shutting the menu, "I'm not really hungry."

"I'm starving," Bella put hers aside as well, "I'll order a big one and we can share, how about? This way you're not ordering a full one just to eat half of it?"

Jon would rather not eat anything, but he knew saying that, especially after they had spent two hours exercising, was going to raise a red flag for her. He nodded, "yeah, alright. What are you ordering?"

"Ribs," Bells opened a smile, "you want a beer?"

Fuck no, Jon flinched at the thought and shook his head, "nope, I... Uh," he opened the menu again, "I'll have an orange juice."

A waiter approached their table and Bella told him the order, causing Jonah to frown as she asked for two juices, "you don't have to not drink as well, Bell-"

"No, it's fine," she shushed him with a handwave that caused the waiter to chuckle, "I think that's all, thank you."

Bella launched herself into telling him all the gossip from their gym and Jonah was enthralled enough he momentarily forgot about his upset stomach, only to be starkly reminded of it as the large plate of glazed ribs was put before them, as well as the two glasses.

The smell was overpowering and Jonah leaned as far back as his chair allowed, gulping down nervously, while Bella served herself.

His stomach churned at the sight of the ginger tearing into the meat and Jonah breathed slowly through his mouth, reaching for the juice, hoping he could push everything further down.

As he was too busy fighting the growing nausea, Jonah was barely paying any attention to whatever Bell was saying, until she quirked her head and waved in front of his eyes.

"Anyone home?" She raised her eyebrows, "you zoned out on me."

"Sorry," Jonah gulped down, moving once again and tugging on the waistband of his pants. He really wanted to undo them, they felt like they were cutting in his tummy, "you were saying?"

Bella squinted at him, picking up a rib and pushing the plate his way, "you're not eating."

"Not hungry," Jonah shrugged and she frowned.

"Well, I can't eat all of it, at least get a bite," Bella licked the sauce off her fingers, "you heard about Vince's new little friend?"

"Little-" Jon grimaced and muffled a burp against his had, "little friend? He got a cat or something?"

"No," Bella snorted, "it's a coworker that he's made his mission to adopt. Luke hates him, it's all he complains about now. That Max this, Max that, Max is short, Max is annoying, Max is taking up too much attention, Max is a jerk-" Bella's amusement was evident in her words, "he's like a little kid."

"Max annoying Luke already puts him in my good graces," Jonah forced a smile, which quickly turned sour when Bella chugged the rest of her juice and gestured to the half eaten plate.

"I can't eat anymore, all yours."

Jonah genuinely tried to eat, grabbing the secondary set of fork and knife and tearing a rib apart, but he couldn't even bring it up to his lips. The smell was too strong and his queasiness turned up a notch, causing him to gag and drop the fork back down, turning his head.

"Knew it," Bella sighed, rolling her eyes, "you're not half as good an actor as you think, Jon," her voice was sarcastic, but still kind and she got up with a sigh, circling the table to pat his arm, "c'mon, big guy, let's get you out of here before you cause a scene."

"If you knew I felt like shit why didn't you say something?" Jonah groaned, grabbing his ditched jacket and leaning into her arms, as Bella guided him towards the door.

"Why didn't you?" She scoffed, helping him out, "stay here, I'll get the bill."

Outside the air was much colder and there wasn't the overwhelming smell of food, but his stomach wasn't feeling even a little bit settled. Jon moved away from the entrance, to the other side of the street, and braced against his knees, taking deep breaths.

He could feel his lunch flipping inside of him and Jonah coughed weakly, blowing out a deep belch and staring at his shoes. It felt like just ten seconds passed, but he knew it was longer, when Bella wrapped an arm around his back and helped him straighten up.

"I'll drive you home, c'mon," she planted a hand on his chest, bracing him and Jonah let out a groan, feeling humiliated.

"Sorry..." His stomach let out another loud growl and he didn't bother muffling the belch, only turning his head. It was sickeningly wet and he groaned under his breath, "gross..."

"Don't be stupid, you're not gross," Bella reprimanded him sharply, rubbing his back. She was quiet for a second, before saying in a smaller voice, "were you sick already...? Is this because of the kick?"

"No," Jonah pressed a hand over his lips as they kept walking back to the gym, "lunch..." his mouth watered at the thought, "lunch just- just isn't- Sitting well..."

Bella moved her hand down, from his chest to his stomach and Jon felt his whole face burn. Not only a belly rub from her was mortifying enough, but it was even more so in public.

The street was deserted though, they had already left the area with the most commotion, and Bell's fingers against his bloated stomach managed to work up another thick belch. It burned his throat, bringing up a splash of sickness with it, that Jonah gulped convulsively.

"Fuck," he whined, feeling clammy and jittery, "I'm gonna be sick."

"Now or-"

She never finished her sentence, because Jonah's grabbed on her shoulder to push her out of the way and bent in half, just in time to redecorate the patch of sidewalk they were on.

He groaned loudly, wrapping an arm around his upset stomach and feeling the gurgling inside, struggling to spit the ropey saliva.

"Aw, darling," Bella's voice was incredibly gentle and she had jumped back, but the tip of her sneakers were covered in white specks of the chunky vomit. Yet, she was rubbing his back, unbothered, "it's alright, get it up, Jon..."

Jonah's stomach gave another growl and he nearly went down with a unproductive heave, his ears going totally deaf for a second as he struggled to breathe and coughed up another disgusting splash of sick. He moaned, burping softly and squeezing his eyes shuts, hearing his heart in his ears, drowning all noise out.

"Jon?" Bella's voice filtered through after a minute and he realized she was almost hugging him, to keep him standing, "Jonah, you're alive over there?"

He coughed, burping once more and nodding, finally opening his eyes. It was a gruesome sight and he let out a groan, immediately closing his eyes again, "Ew... I'm sorry..."

Bella's voice was lighthearted and amused as she patted his back, "please, in the Atwood scale this was barely a seven," her pats forced up another belch, "hold on me, let's move around..."

Slowly she maneuvered him away from the disgusting puddle and Jonah let out a yelp as he felt Bella's hand go in his front pocket, "that's sexual harassment, Bella."

"You must think my standards are incredibly low if you think I'm making a move on you given what I just watched," Bella snorted, then he heard his car key's clicking and his car beeping.

Jonah opened his eyes, wiping at his mouth and the clammy sensation, taking a deep breath, "well, yeah. You married Lucas."

Bella let out a cackle, shoving his arm, "get in the car, asshole. I'm gonna drive you home."

[alicerosejensen]

I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.

If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️

I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.

I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.

There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.

Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.

the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.

If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.

Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.

Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…

Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.

In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.

Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.

This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.

no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.

You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.

But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"

He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.

For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.

You really didn't give him a chance.

The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.

He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.

You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.

“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”

Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.

You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.

On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.

Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.

“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.

Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.

You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.

[simpxxstan]

what about softdom leaning switch!dokyeomie..

thank you for requesting this BECAUSE I AM OBSESSED WITH HIM! this is my first time writing nsfw headcanons without any proper plot (?) so i'm nervous. hopefully you'll not regret requesting this!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here! the event ends tomorrow (31st July) at 12 midnight UTC. if you wish to request anything (although be warned, i write very slowly), my inbox is open. to those who have requested, thank you for being patient! i'm going to answer them all i promise!

warnings: nsfw minors do not interact implied established relationship with fem!reader, nsfw headcanons. not tagging everything here to avoid spoiling the content but nothing extreme (lmk if you still want me to tag something)

thinking about softdom leaning switch!dokyeom:

who cannot fathom being rough or mean to you, making him literally the softest dom ever. the primary reason he still doms you is likely to be because of your natural size difference (dokyeom LOVES how much bigger he is than you and how he can use his strength to give you pleasure). the second reason is because his life's aim is to pleasure you- thereby making him a service top.

picture him fucking you facing each other literally all the time. EYE CONTACT AND KISSES. my boy needs validation from your expressions and non-verbal behaviour that he's doing it right. missionary, cowgirl, on the tabletop, on the bathroom sink, on the kitchen counter, on a chair. eyes on him.

he doesn't mind the place and time if a. you're willing and in the mood and b. he gets to make you happy. dokyeom, being the energy ball he is, has a high sex drive, and even very little can get him horny. naturally, the two of you have done it EVERYWHERE. concert venue backstage. cafe washroom. shopping mall trial room (yes he got hard when you tried a really pretty dress for him and could. not. hold. back). even the bathroom of one of the member's houses when all of svt and their partners are hanging out.

punishments? dokyeom hasn't heard of it. not into spanking or edging- he would much rather give you as many orgasms as humanly possible. however, this leads to you getting overstimulated without him even realising it. you enjoy it to a certain extent but when it gets a little too tough to bear and you tell him the same, he immediately starts apologising so much and kisses you all over and stops whatever he was doing and lets you rest EVEN if he's still hard. he would much rather jerk himself off if needed rather than seeing you in pain.

not particularly kinky, rather he's a bit old-fashioned. so he's not into roleplay during sex, not into torture or pain, and definitely not into degradation. but his breeding kink is intense. dokyeom's fantasised about having a family from a very early age, and now he's found his perfect partner, he absolutely goes wild about it. (he tracks your ovulation period with you and tries to convince you every time to let him breed you full of cum whenever you fuck during that time. you tell him no but you let him fuck you without a condom those nights, taking the plan b pill afterwards without miss. after the high of the orgasm dies down, he curses himself for pushing you too hard and apologises for wanting to fuck you without a condom. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

BUT i think he's definitely into using toys to spice up things in the bedroom. also into filming your sexy time together. you do it more for him because he seems to LOVE it. he's out of town for a lot of time, so finding a video where you're pole dancing for him has him giggling, blushing, and nearly coming in his pants at the same time. when at home, he doesn't use a lot of toys except maybe a vibrator, but when he's away he asks you specifically to pick out certain toys to help yourself (and him too) to get through nights- like that time he bought a monster dildo for you and you filmed yourself riding it for almost an hour (it was so incredibly hot, seeing you babbling and drooling at the constant stretch but dokyeom got worried for a moment that you'll never like his cock after taking a bigger one. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

and it's the sex toys that bring out the switch in dokyeom. what's better than you riding him and pulling his hair towards your chest until he's sucking mindlessly at your tits as you milk him dry? you pinching his nipples using nipple clamps and  tying his hands back so that you can touch him and kiss him everywhere but he absolutely can't even touch you like he so wants to.

talking about tits: dokyeom is obsessed with them. he loves your entire body, but your boobs are the absolute cherry on top of the cake for him (pun not intended). he's just so happy that he has full access to your pretty breasts all the time- for him to kiss when waking up, for him to sleep on while napping, for him to tease with his ridiculously large tongue when he's in a particularly wild mood. he wants them all the time- video call sex? "baby show me your tits once please" and he cums as soon as you do. quickie? you're blowing his cock, and he's bending down to fondle your soft tits. mirror sex? his eyes are FIXATED at your tits. doggy style? he's groping your tits as his balls slam against your ass. morning cuddle? he makes you wear his softest t-shirts and nuzzles against your warm chest.

unsurprisingly, his love for your tits also enables a little bit of his submissiveness. he may or may not want to suck on your tits while you work on your laptop. he may or may not focus more on rubbing his spit on your tits instead of the film you both are supposed to be watching. he may or may not go cross-eyed watching your tits when you're on top of him, fucking yourself on his dick, during make-up sex (you're bouncing so harshly on him, he can't feel his legs anymore and he's completely at your mercy).

and he particularly loves to be taken care of whenever he's had a bad day and heard something negative about his looks or performances. (words are insufficient so you show him how manly he is, how handsome he is, how he's an all-rounder and how he's born for the stage. he worries he takes too much from you, and he's a burden. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

his biggest fetish perhaps is clothed sex. he LOVES dressing you up in beautiful clothes and lingerie. and there's something so exciting like unwrapping layers of you- each layer more mysterious and pretty than the previous. he loves the subtle sensualness of clothed making out- the way he can touch your thighs through a slit in the dress, the way you grind shamelessly on his dick when it's separated from your wet pussy by the soft cotton of his trackpants.

all in all, he's a 100% romantic partner through and through. which includes eye contact during sex, holding hands when he ruts into you and constant kisses and praise every second of the day, in and out of the bed. it goes both ways- he loves being praised too, all shy and soft, blushing whenever you call him sexy. (he tries to do that thing again and again, hoping he can be the sexiest man in your eyes but he thinks he's hoping for too much. who's going to tell him the truth?)

[friskarm]

tentatively putting my thoughts into the tag. for context i am an anime-only watcher but i've been really, really enjoying the mage exam arc and i was definitely a little surprised to find out that this arc has a lot of people frustrated!

one of the strengths of this arc, i think, is seeing how frieren interacts with characters and personalities we've not seen her encounter before. fern and stark are both relatively placid as people; they're generally content to go along with what frieren says.

lawine and kanne are two very strong personalities that frieren initially doesn't know how to deal with at all! they have a whole thing going on and frieren's choice is to. not handle it at all. rather, she spends much of her time quietly observing the two of them until she can speak with each of them individually and figure them out, just a bit. she really struggles to get a grasp on the situation until she does that; it's lawine and kanne who are acting first within their team.

then, secondly -- frieren's plan is so. elf with a lot of time to spare. the impact of the time limit is felt so strongly by every human character on the field; everyone is in such a rush! fern's team are stoked they caught a stille so early. the team that attacks them are desperate to steal it asap. after lawine freezes the lake, the other teams are desperately trying to thaw it, for a quick solution.

frieren, though? frieren's solution takes a shitton of time and involves her essentially meditating by a pond for god knows how many hours. it's such a frieren plan; i feel like only someone with a relationship with time like frieren does would come up with it.

tldr; frieren's capacity to form relationships and understand people and her relationship with time are shown off in a really interesting way wrt the way frieren solves the stille problem.

that, and... it seems a bit silly to say this about a show with a certain character in the title but... i do not feel that frieren is exclusively about frieren. it is certainly a story about her adventures but frieren is by no means the only important character! fern is also there! and stark but hes on vacation. so let's talk about fern.

the one fight scene fern has is so unbelieveably crunchy to me bc we learn so much about the world (now) and about the world (part)/frieren's view on magic from it! the girl she fights has really impressive magic; we know that this is generally considered a time of peace, the demon lord is dead, etc. magic is not necessarily a means to an end. i wonder if this means magic has entered a sort of renaissance? a time period after a period of great upheaval, where social structure is thrown out the window and great advances are made in technology, science - and maybe magic!

the way fern uses magic is very indicative of how frieren feels about magic. fern says (that frieren said) that "this is enough to defeat mages of this era", which is so interesting to me bc yes, ofc, fern does win! with her simple magic and full auto fire. but does that automatically mean fern is a better mage? it's complicated...

you hear a lot about the different philosophies of people who use magic in these episodes, and what i'm really interested in seeing is mr war guy meet frieren, bc i think they'd be the most interesting contrast -- a warrior of the past, and a warrior of today.

specifically bc -- frieren is basically a custom-designed warrior. the way she can mask her mana is very specifically designed to be able to weaponised against demons, flamme did that to her very purposefully. the way she's trained fern is also indicative of that; fern's immense firepower and stamina being "enough to defeat mages of this era" without being flashy so to speak indicate, at least to me, that this sort of thing was common in frieren's time! but this is a type of magic very specifically made for battle against a very specific enemy.

no wonder frieren likes collecting weird spells so much... i wonder if she's had much time at all in the past to play around with magic for the sake of anything but fighting and training to fight?

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

AYYYYY CONGRATS ABOUT 100 FOLLOWERS!! You totally deserve them all and even more!! I mean, your story with Kid and reader about scottish mafia was 11/1 score! Truly mesmerising!!!

And I wondered if you wouldn’t have anything against writing Killer x male!reader, nothing nsfw, maybe a little smooch and cuddle session in the end, that would be awesome!

And this is one of the ideas I had roaming in my head; original OP au would fit the best)

Killer went to investigate area, got bitten by a wild wolf-alike thing, got back to the crew, he acted normal after going to infirmary, but every hour it got darker outside he was ‘not like himself’, while Victoria Punk is still docked at an island — he transforms and freaks out completely, then he runs away and reader is beyond than worried, crew was alarmed and they all went to search for him, he’s a grown ass man — we all know — but the unpredictable happened and it’s all going to the point of reader finding him inside a forest, then… you decide what happens. Comfort? Tragedy? Attack? Peace?

I understand that it may not be your cup of tea and I totally understand, anyways, thanks for reading this! (It may be Kid x male!reader also huehue)

Hello anon!!

First of all, thank you soooo much for your kind words! They truly warm my heart! Second, I'm so sorry for the delay on this request, but with vacation, wanting to finish the Highlander Kid story, and... well, life (!) this took a while. Also, I meant this to be short and sweet, but it turned out long and a bit angsty! I guess my need for angst keeps showing... 😫 I do hope you still like it! I had fun with this story because it explored so many new things I'd never written about! Without further ado, and seriously hoping you'll like it, read on!

Source for Pic

Word Count: 5112

Tags: Male!Reader x Killer; Supernatural AU; Mentions of blood; Cursing; Fluff and angst; Angst with hopefull ending (if you squint hard enough); Feelings;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Killer gets bitten on a routine scouting mission and dismisses it as a minor wound. Turns out it was anything but a minor wound. As he starts to transform into something else, you try with all your might to bring him back home. Back to you.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz

MASTERLIST

It was routine. 

Scouting a new island was routine work. Boring, repetitive, mind-numbing routine work. And Killer wasn't even the one who usually did it. But this island was special. This island was fabled to have a single tree, hidden somewhere in the midst of a thick forest, that was said to produce the most fragrant, delicious, mouth-watering fruits known in the New World. 

And Killer just had to get his hands on it. Period. 

Perhaps if he wasn’t so worried about finding this fruit, he would’ve noticed the unnatural fog that permeated the forest. How its thick tendrils wisped their way around him, grasping, enveloping, and suffocating. 

Perhaps if he wasn’t so keen on tasting that new flavour, he would’ve seen a pair of glowing, bright yellow eyes, following him from the shadows, moving as swiftly as the fog.

Perhaps if he wasn’t already inventing recipes in his head, trying to figure out if the fruit paired better with meat, fish, or dessert, he would’ve heard the faint rustle of the leaves, the low snarl of the wolf-like creature, the soft crunch of twigs beneath its paws as it jumped to strike.

Perhaps if he had turned a second earlier, or ducked, or rolled over… perhaps, only perhaps, he wouldn’t have been bitten. Instead, he felt a sharp, intense pain right on the shoulder blade, sending throbbing jolts of discomfort through his neck and down his arm. 

A heavy grunt left his painted lips, muffled by his mask, as he turned, releasing his punisher and fending off the creature that fled with a loud yelp. It was bigger than a wolf, larger than a wolf, heavier than a wolf. 

And it disappeared just as fast as it appeared.

-*-

Killer passed by you on the deck of the Victoria. His mask had a streak of red across it and he was clutching his right arm against his bare chest, his shirt pressed hard against his shoulder blade. Under normal circumstances, the sight of the Massacre Soldier half-naked, usually brought a grunt and pulled a smile from your - often - pursed lips: he was a sight!

Today was different though. 

He seemed to be in pain, from the slight strain with which he carried his arm, his steps heavy while grunts and puffs left his veiled lips. 

“Kill, you alright?” You asked, worry lacing your voice, his hisses of pain shadowing any previous lewd thoughts that crossed your mind. 

“Yes, yes. I'll manage. It’s a minor wound, I just need to get it stitched. Go back to your duties.” His barks were laced with a commanding tone and a very out of character irritable timbre. You and Killer were very good friends - in fact, he was much more than that to you. He was an unattainable crush, the recurring wet dream, the never-possible love story you wished to fulfil. 

Yet, you knew better than to disobey an order from the first mate. So you stayed on deck and finished your duties, a slight hurry to your step and gestures, a frown of worry distorting your face. 

-*-

“What the fuck is that?” Kid barked as he got his face close to Killer’s wound, nose scrunched in disgust and lips pulled upwards, showing his sharp teeth. 

“Fuck off, Kid. I got bit by a fucking wolf. Where’s Doc?” Killer grabbed a whole bottle of rum and poured it on his shoulder, hissing and grunting as the golden-brown liquid poured down his back and front, dripping onto the floor. 

“Hey! That’s a waste of good rum!” Kid growled as Killer lifted a bit of his mask and took a swig of the liquid before pouring the rest over the wound. 

“Fuck, it hurts!” The first mate threw the bottle on the floor and punched the wooden table, gritting his teeth under his mask.

“Doc went to buy supplies. I can stitch that up.” Kid offered. Killer’s snickers were muffled by the mask, but still heard.

“No, it’s better if you don't. I’ll wait. It’s just a minor injury.” Killer grabbed a bunch of bandages from a nearby cabinet and sat down, a disgruntled groan leaving his lips. “Just help me bandage it up.”

-*-

Your duties took way longer than expected and by the time you finished, the orange in the sky was turning into a purplish blue, nighttime approaching fast. That meant Killer would be by the galley. It was Thursday, and Killer usually indulged the crew with some pasta on Thursdays. 

After washing up, you decided to help him - it was not an excuse to check how he was! - since from the looks of it, his arm might’ve been too wounded to cook properly. 

Yet, as soon as you got to the galley, the kitchen was eerily empty. There were pots with simmering water that still hadn’t reached the boiling point, and half-peeled tomatoes on the counter. 

But no Killer in sight. 

“Kill?” You tried to sound cheerful, but worry laced your voice turning it raspy and hoarse. “I came to see if you needed help.”

Listening carefully, you tilted your head to the side as you slowly went around the counter. “Kill?” You heard a soft sound - a muffled whine - coming from the pantry. The door was closed so you approached carefully. Each step you took seemed to be met with another whine. Was it Killer?

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest, your breath came in shallow, fast waves and you felt a drip of sweat run down your back. Inhaling, and unconsciously holding your breath, you pushed the door open. 

“Kill?” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice. It came out in an altered timbre, much higher than usual. And much more frightened. Because the man cowering in the corner of the pantry, curling his body against the lower shelf, was Killer. 

Yet… not quite.

“Are you alright?” You started, taking a very small step inside. He had removed his shirt - or never put it back on - and had ripped the bloody bandages he must have used to wrap his wound, as they were scattered on the floor, all around him. 

But what startled you the most, was the fact that he had removed his mask. You had never seen him without his mask on. Though his face was still obscured by his long, blonde bangs, you could make out the smeared purple lipstick on his lips and - gods, this made your heart jump into your throat - his tear-stained cheeks.

That set your fears to the back of your mind and your determination took the spotlight as you took two big strides towards him, hands outstretched and eyes wide open. “I’m here, Kill. Whatever you need, I’ll help. Need me to go get Doc? Kid? What do you need? Speak to me.”

You urged as you knelt in front of him. 

A ragged cry left his lips as he wrapped his arms around his torso. He seemed to be in pain, yet you were confused, wasn’t it his shoulder that got hurt? Why was he clutching his body?

“My wound!” His desperation cut like knives through your heart. “It’s almost healed!” He moved his shoulder towards you and you gasped. You weren’t quite sure what he meant by ‘almost healed’, because the whole thing seemed pretty inflamed to you. 

He had an assortment of red gashes, the middle ones more pronounced than the others, and the flesh seemed torn. As if something had bitten and just ripped it apart, leaving tendons and muscles exposed. It was a wound that required stitches! Yet, upon closer inspection, you realised he was right. The smaller gashes seemed to have scabbed over, and the bruises around them were already turning a greenish-yellow, instead of being at their most inflamed. 

From a wound made a few hours ago, that seemed impossible! In addition to that, the veins in his arm seemed to be protruding and were dark and purple, almost visibly pulsating . 

“Okay, okay, I can see that. Let’s get you to the infirmary and see what the Doc can do to help you, alright?” You said calmly, your hands reaching towards him, but he whined again as he shrank deeper beneath the shelf.

“No, no, no. I don’t feel like myself! I don’t want to hurt you!” He grunted as his hands clawed against his chest, leaving angry red marks across it and you managed to glimpse his fingernails. They looked sharp - almost claw like - and blackened. “It hurts! On the inside! It’s like I’m being ripped apart! Fuuuuck!” His animalistic, primal roar made you take a step back.

Whatever the fuck had bitten Killer was not a normal beast.

“You won’t hurt me, trust me.” Extending your hand to him, you prayed that Doc knew some mythical way to heal him, because from what you were seeing, you had already come to a conclusion about what was happening.

And you didn’t want to be right about it. 

Though you were rarely wrong.

“Get the fuck away! I can't hurt you! Not you! I-...” Except he didn’t finish his thought because in the next moment, Killer let out an ear-piercing, mind-shattering scream that bristled all the hairs on your body, trapping your next breath in your throat. 

A quiet, eerie silence surrounded you as Killer crouched, his breath coming out in ragged pants as he got on all fours. You could barely describe what you were seeing to anyone who dared ask. His back was twitching, expanding, growing bigger and bulgier. His blonde mane fused to his back creating what seemed like a coat of fur that spread to his body. His arms and legs twisted and turned into unnatural shapes as bones cracked and elongated. 

You could scarcely believe your eyes as you realised that, where once there were hands and feet, now stood paw-like extremities, complete with sharpened nails - resembling lethal claws - perfect instruments to hunt prey and run through thick forests. 

Your initial thought was right.

He was transforming into some kind of creature, a werewolf would be your first guess.

Killer’s scream died out in a decrescendo as his ragged pants dissolved into a heavy, guttural breathing. As he crawled out from under the shelf, his hands - paws? - clicked against the wooden floor in slow, deliberate motions, you glimpsed his eyes peering at you from behind his fur-like bangs. 

The blue had turned into a sickly yellow, his pupils enlarged and black as the darkest night. His face seemed to have elongated somewhat, though he still had some humanity left in him. However, what terrified you the most was his smile. A feral-like grin that showcased large, sharp canines. 

He didn’t seem like the Killer you knew at all. 

“Kill?” You tried hesitantly. You didn’t know much about werewolves, as you thought them to be mere lore and myth. Yet, here you were. Face to face with one. The man you loved, to be more precise. “Are you still there?”

A deep growl was your answer. 

If he wasn’t completely gone, he was teetering on the edge. “Stay with me, Kill. We’ll find you a cure.” As with any animal, you were sure that if you showed fear, he would attack you. So you needed to remain in control. Cool and collected. 

Which was easier said than done. 

“Come on, Kill. I’ll help. Come out of it.” A sure step forward elicited a small, gentle yelp from him as he shook his furry head. Though, just as his eyes turned more blue than yellow, and his body lost tension, the door to the galley burst open and boisterous crew members came inside laughing and jeering, asking for pasta, startling Killer into a frenzy.

He growled and snarled as he lowered his head in position to strike. “No, Kill. It’s okay, it’s just our crewmembers, it’s alright.” You tried to remain calm, but the way his paws retracted, his claws leaving deep scratch marks against the wood, was making you tremble.

It took just one surprised scream.

And Killer leaped over you. His hind legs hitting your head with such brutal force that they knocked the breath right out of your lungs. And just like that he was gone.

-*-

“What the fuck do ya mean Killer’s gone?” Kid’s snarl was visceral.

You gulped as you pressed the ice pack against your temple, which was still throbbing. The crew members who had seen Killer rush out of the galley were gathered around Kid, relaying all the information they could to your flabbergasted captain. 

You were being seen by Doc a few paces away. 

“He turned into a werewolf, Captain.” You groaned, nausea hitting you as you bent, placing your head between your knees to stop the world from spinning and keep bile from rising up from your stomach again. 

“Lad, ya’ve said that three times. I can’t hear it one more time. The fuck do ya mean by that? Doc, are werewolves real?”

“Yes!” You hissed as you swallowed hard, a bitter taste in your mouth from the earlier vomiting you’d done. 

“There’s some records, Cap,” Doc began. “But not specific, concrete evidence of it.”

“What fucking concrete evidence? We’ve all seen it!” You stated, getting upright with a swift motion and grasping the table until your knuckles turned white as your vision blurred. “He turned right in front of me! He jumped over me! They all saw it!”

Kid looked at you in disbelief. Your tale was so wild he had no idea what to believe. 

“Even so, what are we all waiting for? He ran onto an unknown island and he’s all alone! Let’s go after him before he hurts himself or anyone else!” Anger kept rising within you every minute Kill was away from you. But the fear… the fear was overwhelming. It clutched your chest in its grasp, snaking cold tendrils to your stomach and bowels, twisting and turning, making you feel helpless and agonised. 

“He's a grown ass-man.” Kid said gruffly, though the strain in his voice betrayed the worry he was feeling. 

Silence surrounded the crew as Kid's scowl became more pronounced. After a moment he got up, determination setting his pace. “Fine. Four search parties, no fewer than three men on each. Careful if he's really turned into… something else. Avoid hurting him.” The Kid pirates exclaimed ‘Aye Captain!’ in unison as they started to disband. 

You got up on wobbly legs, discarding the pack of ice and taking a deep steadying breath. “Where the fuck ya think ya going? Ya stay behind.” Kid snarled at you. 

“I'm the best hunter on this fucking ship. I can track a snow leopard in the middle of a fucking snowstorm. That's how good I am.” Rage seethed through your pores, urgency filled your veins, and desperation gripped your heart. 

“Yer compromised, lad.” Kid stated gravely. 

“You mean my wound? I won't let it slow me down. I can-...”

“Ain’t yer wound. Everyone with two eyes and ears can see ya care about Killer. Care, care.” He grunted with a smirk and you were left speechless. But Kid continued. “What if the unthinkable needs to be done? Can ya do it?”

The unthinkable? Was he talking about… hurting him, or killing him? Would it come to that? Would Killer want that? There had to be a cure somewhere. Lycanthropy had to have been around for ages. Someone must've found something out, at least how to snuff out the symptoms. Still… Kid’s question was a pertinent one. Could you do it? 

“Can you?” Defiance laced your voice and Kid’s snarky laugh reached your ears. 

“Valid point, lad. Yer still staying. Captain's orders.”

Fuck.

-*-

The search parties kept returning, each more dismayed than the last. And your heart kept wanting to flee from your chest. What had happened? Was he safe? Kid still hadn't returned so there was still some semblance of hope. Kid would never give up on his first mate - his friend - like that. 

But you could no longer sit still. 

You had been restless and preoccupied. Fortunately the worst of the nausea had gone away and your strength had returned, though your head was still throbbing like a son of a bitch. 

So you decided to mutiny. And you knew you would be punished - severely, even - yet you could not help it, for how could you stay still when part of your heart was out there? Alone, scared, maybe even hurt? 

Gathering your weapons, you stealthily left the ship, eluding some stationed crewmates guarding the deck, and immediately started to look for tracks. You tried to identify some wolf markings, yet, with all the search parties that had left the ship earlier, the tracks were all muddled together. 

Clicking your tongue, you cursed your hot-headed captain. If you had gone out earlier, you would have tracked him faster. 

Instead, it took the better part of an hour just to - finally - be on the right track. The full moon was shining brightly in the sky, casting its glowing light against the tops of the dense trees. The hoots of the owls lent a semblance of sobriety to your hunt and the approaching howls of wolves told you that you were near. 

The only other thing you could hear was the disjointed beat of your heart thrumming in your eardrums. 

After a few moments you tensed. The thick mist had come out of nowhere and surrounded you completely, the forest had suddenly turned eerily still and you could vaguely make out distant shapes of yellowish orbs staring right at you. 

You counted eight different pairs of eyes. 

You were surrounded. And, most likely, very dead in the next few seconds. Gripping the handles of your weapons and gritting your teeth, you vowed not to go down without a fight. 

At least there would be no punishment awaiting you back on the Victoria. 

However, before the wolves launched an attack, you heard pained and muffled grunts in the short distance. Your heart jumped to your mouth as your eyes widened. You could identify your counterpart in the middle of a crowd, blindfolded and with your ears covered. 

Killer. 

You made a move to rush forward but all the wolves growled at you, turning your legs to jelly and halting your movements. After a few moments, Killer - your Killer, not the thing he transformed into - came into view. He looked dishevelled, tired and still in pain.

Grunting your name, he fell to his knees, clutching his head between his hands. “Kill!” You urged, surging forward and kneeling near him. “You're fine! You're all right!” Were you assuring him, or yourself? 

A groan escaped his lips as his face contorted. It almost seemed as if he was using all his strength to stop from turning. “I'm not fine!” He hissed between his teeth, every word coming out of his mouth strained and hoarse. “And you shouldn't be here.”

“I came to get you, Kill. The Doc knows what's up. They're working on a cure now. You need to come back with me, come home.” 

His blond locks shook at the same time as his head. He had twigs, leaves and dirt on his once pristine golden mane and you longed to help him clean it. “They're calling me.” He uttered as he retreated from you. 

“Who's calling you?” You didn't push into his space, but you didn't fall back either. Your arm reached for him, just to assure him you were still there, as he had his eyes shut with tension and hurt. 

“Them!” 

The wolves surrounding you started to howl at the moon. Killer repeated the word ‘them’ incessantly, as if it were a litany, a sort of prayer to a God you were not privy to. Then, he started to howl at the moon with them and the sound that escaped his lips was feral and primal and terrifying. 

“They need me. They need a leader of the pack, an Alpha. They want me to be their Alpha. Without one, they’re mere prey for other packs.”

A surge of questions begging to be answered swallowed your brain, yet, what frightened you the most, was the very real possibility of him staying behind. 

“What do you mean, Kill?” Your voice was a mere whisper. You crawled forward, tentatively approaching his crouching form. He whimpered and groaned and your heart clenched some more. This was not your Killer. The Killer you knew and loved was strong and self-assured. You’d never seen him like this.

It was very disarming.

“I have to stay!” Your name came out of his lips in a low snarl. “They need me!” He repeated, and this time he looked up at you. One yellow eye seemed determined and set with fiery will; the other one carried a very soft blue and with it a frightened, disconsolate look. 

“You can't stay, Kill… What about your dream?”

His dismissive scoff was very uncharacteristic and it sent a cold shiver down your spine. “I don’t have any dreams…”

Lies. He had dreams. He had to have them, right?

“Even if I did, they don’t matter. They’re nowhere near as important as Kid’s.” He shook his head fiercely, grunting and snarling at the same time.

“Fine, then. What about Kid’s dream?” Once he was safe back on the Victoria, once he was resting in your embrace, or at least within your sight, you could speak calmly about his own dreams. What mattered now was bringing him back.

He stuttered, his mismatched eyes staring back at you, both very uncertain and wounded. “Like this I can only slow him down.” He sounded resigned. “At least they can use me like this. They need me!” He returned to the same line of thought. 

“Kill…” You approached again and he didn’t pull away, so you leaned your face closer to him, focusing on the blue eye, the one that held the soul of the man you loved deep within. “I need you. So, so much.”

As your words reached him, the yellow eye trembled and Killer shut both eyes, cursing and clenching his jaw. Was it working? You just wanted to bring him home. You could all think about the consequences and cures later. He was all that mattered - his safety.

“I go to bed thinking about you;” You placed a rough calloused hand against his tangled hair. “I dream about you;” Another one of your hands cupped his cheek, your thumb tracing his soft lips. God, he was beautiful. “I wake up thinking about you.” With a deep breath you pressed your forehead against his. He shivered, whined and stilled against your touch.

“I love you Kill. I need you. With me, near me! You can’t stay here. The… pack is not your family. The Kid Pirates are.” Could you reach him? Far away in the confines of his mind where he was running to?

When he opened his eyes, there was blue staring back at you. In both of them. There was a tenderness in his gaze, a softness that you didn’t know if it was always there or not, because you had never gazed at his eyes. 

At his beautiful eyes. 

Whispering your name softly, Kill leaned his head slightly, his breath tickling your lips, his warmth warming your heart. 

“I also-...” A deep growl interrupted his sentence. The wolves restarted their howling at the moon and Killer stepped back from you, his hands clutching his head again.

“No, no! Kill, come back! This is not you, we can do this together! Killer!” You pleaded, getting up and trying to reach him once more, but then you noticed - with horror and surprise - that he was, once again, transforming into the beast from before. 

Faster this time, and more complete. He resembled a fully grown wolf. But so much bigger and much more frightening. 

And the way he stared at you stole all the bravado you had left. This was definitely not your Killer. 

When he lunged and struck, you immediately lost consciousness.

-*-

By the time you woke up, you were aboard the Victoria. The ship swayed gently, lulled by the soft waves. Your bed was familiar to you, the briny air of the seawater and the roughness of the sheets waking you up to a throbbing headache.

You opened your eyes slowly, feeling bandages wrapping around your head, with moisture in some places indicating that whatever wound you had was still recent and slightly bleeding.

You winced and closed your eyes again, trying to regain your bearings. 

Until the events of the past night came rushing in, all of a sudden and all at once. Unrelenting, savage, and unbridled images and memories.

And your extremely painful loss.

“Killer!” You grunted as you got up. Everything was still spinning and you didn’t get too far, but someone must’ve been near you to relay the news of your state of consciousness, because after a few moments your captain was by your side. 

Kid donned a more pronounced scowl on his lips, the lines near his eyes deep and worried. He was angry.

Gulping, you realised you had disobeyed his order, last night. 

“Lad.” He barked as he took a seat and you leaned against the bunk bed. “Ya didn’t do as I told ya.”

“I’m sorry, I-...”

“Shut the fuck up, ya speak when I tell ya to.” 

Lowering your head, you nodded while clenching your teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Ya didn’t do as I told ya, and ya could’ve died. Killer brought ya to Victoria.” You raised your head, already opening your mouth to ask about Killer, but Kid’s look told you that he would not be lenient if you interrupted him again, so you stood still, hanging on every word your captain uttered. “We’re sailing now. He stayed behind. Something about the pack needing him. Ya were right. He turned into a wolf-... werewolf-thing. But he managed to turn back after he hurt ya and came to find us.”

You slumped down on the ground, your knees hitting the hardwood floor as you felt air leaving your lungs in heavy, ragged breaths. 

“He hurt ya. Ya were bleeding so much he thought he killed ya, he was inconsolable. But it turned out ya were only out cold.” Kid sighed as he pressed his flesh index finger and thumb against his nose. “We are finding him a cure. I can guarantee ya that. Even if I have to visit every goddamned island in the world.” Kid clenched his metal fist and you could feel the slight tremble of all the metallic objects around you. “Until then, and until we come back, Killer said to tell ya that he also needs ya and that he’s always thinking about ya too.” When your lower lip trembled, Kid scoffed. “Sappy motherfuckers.”

The air was too thick to inhale. Your breaths were too shallow and the pain in your chest kept building up and up in unrelenting waves. He left you. He stayed behind. 

Yet you mattered to him. He cared about you.

But he was gone. And he was not himself.

“Lad, calm down. I’m upset about this situation too. I hated having to leave him behind.” Kid cursed as he slammed his hand on a desk near him, splinters of wood flying everywhere. “But this was his choice. He didn’t want to endanger anyone on the crew, nor did he want to leave those wolves behind.”

“He’s too good for a fucking pirate…” You muttered against your will, the scowl on your lips deepening as you felt the pricking of tears behind your eyes. 

Kid’s laugh was like a balm to your ears. Kid understood. And he was hurting just as much as you were. “He fucking is, that wanker.” Your captain sighed as he got up. “Once ya’ve rested from that nasty wound, ya have a month of bathroom cleaning duties to attend to, starting today. I’ll figure out the rest of yer punishment as I go.”

You nodded. It was less than you deserved, really. 

But the ache in your chest was terrible and you just wanted to let your sorrow out. Killer was gone from the Victoria and you could barely conceive of a normal life without him by your side. How could you wake up to a cold Killer-less galley? How could you go to sleep without telling him goodnight? 

How were you supposed to live? Period.

“He’s strong. He’ll be fine. And we’ll fix him.” Kid assured you as he got up and placed a hand on your shoulder. However, before he left, you stopped him with your words.

“He told me he didn’t have dreams, that your dream was the only one that mattered, and that he’d only slow you down like this.” You sighed, biting back a sob. “If he realises you’re giving up your dream to find him a cure, he’ll never forgive himself.” You were as sure of this as the sun rising every day.

Kid stood in silence for a moment, his jaw moving as he clenched and unclenched it, tension filling the room. “That fucking arse.” Another scoff. “When we find him a cure and he comes back, I’ll let him know that my dream ain’t worth shit without him by my side. And ya, lad, can show him he’s yer dream. Maybe that’ll keep him focused on himself more.”

Kid was not a man of tender, gentle words. So this soft speech about the man you loved left you speechless. Without another word he left the quarters, leaving you to your misery, probably chasing his own at the bottom of a rum bottle. 

He was right, though. Killer was tough. As tough as they come. And this had been his choice, though it stung a little to know he had chosen to stand by a pack he wasn’t familiar with instead of being with you.

Even if he thought that he was doing it to protect all of you.

Lying back down on the bed you let the beginning of your tears mar your dirt and blood-stricken face. Kid was also right about something else. Killer was your dream. A dream you didn’t think you could fulfil, until he told you otherwise. 

So you would be relentless. You would cross every single island off the map, visit every goddamned civilization there ever was (in the mountains, in the woods, underwater or in the sky) and you would buy, steal, beg and kill, if you had to.

Just to find him a cure.

Just to get your dream back.

That was a vow you didn’t intend to break.

[fereldanwench]

I didn't want to completely sit out a year-in-review, but for reasons I'll explain at the end of this post and under a cut, doing the traditional pick-one-pic-from-each-month approach just wasn't going to work for me. So instead, here are 20 of my favorite shots (in no particular order) of Valerie from 2023!

(I'll share solo Goro shots and shippy/story shots in two other posts before the year ends.)

Some thoughts about this year (cw for anxiety and depression mentions):

So yeah. I actually hadn't planned on joining in on the virtual photography year-in-review fun in part because... Well, frankly, I wasn't sure if it would actually be fun for me.

Although I do have pictures for every month, the first third, maybe even half, of the year was a struggle on almost every conceivable level. A lot of it was shit that carried over from the end of 2022, which was also an incredibly difficult year for me. I don't really want to delve too deeply into why--Some of it was personal, some of it was professional, some of it was fandom, and if you know, you know.

The main obstacle I had here is that looking at a lot of the shots I took from about January to May (give or take a few weeks on either end) honestly reminded me of Bad Times™️. I've worked really hard to pull myself out of that depression/anxiety cycle and return to a healthier approach to fandom and online socialization in general, but I just didn't want to spend a lot of time in that mental space. There are a few shots from those months that made it to my favorites, and I hope one day I can look back on that stuff and just feel the good from it again. Alas, that day is still not here.

But I am happy to report that the other reason I wanted to approach the review differently is a lot more positive! It's also two-fold: 1) I spent the earlier part of this year exploring more of a technical side of virtual photography and 2) I was really prolific the last third or so of this year so trying to narrow faves from about August until now was just not possible.

One of the few good things about the end of 2022 was being able to upgrade my graphics card, which meant I then had a rig that could support ray-tracing and hot sampling. As a result, I started putting a lot more focus on lighting and getting acquainted with new tools. I also was trying to work with the new AMM posing system, which is very convenient in some ways (100s of poses without reloading the game!) and a complete pain in the ass in others (can't move characters without their poses breaking!). Custom photomode poses + Nibbles Replacer has been the game changer I've been waiting for.

Or to put it more succinctly, December 2022 through about April 2023 felt like a relearning/return to basics kind of creative period, which is essential, but also means I just don't really like a lot of what I did, lmao.

Then, shockingly (I'm not shocked at all), starting treatment for my anxiety and depression in the second half of this year suddenly made creating a lot easier and fun again! Crazy how that works.

Even bumping this little review up to 20 shots instead of 12, there are still pictures from the past few months that I had to cut as favorites. There was just no way I could condense the amount of fave shots I took from August to now in just 5 options.

I also owe quite a bit of this revival to modders for asking me if I wanted to take shots for them--Exploring more of a fashion photography approach to my shots I think did a lot to build on what I had learned earlier in the year and encouraged me to try something new. I don't want to tag anyone in this long-ass glorified diary entry, but if you invited me to take mod shots for you, just know that it really meant a lot. ♡

And that's where my head has been with a yearly review! Is filling out a little template with 12 pictures this serious? No, it definitely is not, lmao. But hey, overthinking shit is still something I'm working on. ✌️