#also i did not make this theme i took it from a free presentation theme website

[silverfox419]

these tropes are all based on official tumblr sexyman tropes listed on the sexypedia tropes page!! it’s all legit sexyman material!! do your part!!!

[wildestdreamsblog]

Baby Fever

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: You were more than just a secretary to him.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Breeding kink, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: hiiii! I haven’t felt as inspired as I did while writing this for a while 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!

“I want a baby.”

You sputtered out the coffee you were drinking. Your eyes watered as you coughed. You tried to get your breathing under control as you looked at the imposing man sitting in front of you with his legs spread apart. He had not lifted his eyes from the laptop presented in front of him. He was idly looking at photos of paintings from the various exhibits you attended while he was busy with his group’s schedule. As an idol, and on top of that the leader of the biggest group today, Kim Namjoon was an extremely busy person. You were his secretary for almost four years now. You took care of his personal life, while his personal assistant took care of his work life. You were there for him whenever he was done with his work schedule. You were there to make sure that he remembered to call his family during their birthdays, special occasions, and holidays. In fact, you were the first person he was keen on seeing once he landed from whatever country they were in for work. His members, specially Taehyung and Seokjin, let you know time and time again how much you were appreciated. If you weren’t there, they thought that Namjoon would not be as put up as he was right now. You thought that Namjoon would survived without you.

You coughed twice before finally feeling like you could live. “What?” You asked him in confusion before wiping your self with the handkerchief he had somehow laid out in front of you.

Namjoon eventually looked up to you once he marked the photos of paintings he wanted to purchase. He leaned in, resting his elbow on his muscular thigh before plopping his chin on his hand. “I said, I want a baby.”

You squinted your eyes confusingly, “As in…baby as in baby? Or baby as in I don’t know? Not an actual baby?” You knew even as you asked what he meant. Namjoon was the most intelligent man you knew, and he did not make mistakes when conversing. In fact, he was such a great conversationalist that the media loved to invite him on their shows.

So…what brought this on?

“A child of my own, Y/N.”

That was not the first time he mentioned that. If you could remember clearly, he answered in some interviews that he really wanted to become a father. He even bought that cute little shoes when he was abroad just because. In your mind, you knew he would be the best father if how he took care of his members was any indicator. It broke your heart, though, to see him still alone after all this time.

“I mean…are you seeing someone that I’m not aware of?”

He blinked at you, absorbing what you were asking. How could he had another woman when he spent almost all his free time with you? “No.”

“T-then how?” You asked in puzzlement. You could see from his expression that he was serious about this. He rarely said anything without thinking it thoroughly in the complex and brilliant mind of his. This meant that he really did want to have a child of his own now.

You were finding it difficult to process this. Couldn’t he just want another painting?

Namjoon merely shrugged his broad shoulders and went back to looking over the paintings.

You thought that was the end of it. But no. The second time he mentioned this was at Jin’s house.

You two were about to call it a day after running errands for him. To be honest, you were quite excited for tonight. You were set to meet with your college friends, including someone you always looked up to back in your college years because of his superior intellect. He was also always so kind to you, even walked you home to your dorm every night. But you were too immense in your studies back then that you had no time for relationship. But maybe, now?

You made sure to take more time to dress yourself up this morning. You even chose to swap your usual lipstick to a different shade that made you feel more alluring and beautiful. Your fingers touched the beautiful necklace Namjoon gave you on your birthday last year. You thought that the accessory was perfect with the dress you were wearing.

This would be an easy day for you, you thought to yourself seeing that RM’s schedule was just until the afternoon. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance before leaving the house. When you showed up at the company to pick him up, the staff politely informed you that the leader was still in the studio with Yoongi and that he told them to ask you to go directly there. You were walking to the floor where the studio was when you passed the three maknaes: Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Oh, noona!” Jungkook called you, his voice in pleasant surprised as he looked at your face. His doe eyes took in your clothes with wonder before meeting your eyes again. “Noona! You look so pretty!”

Taehyung smiled at you and nodded his head. “Our noona looks so fashionable,” he commented as he checked out your get up today. You beamed at his compliment, happy that the fashionable Taehyung approved of you.

Jimin sauntered up to you, teasingly wrapping his arm around your shoulders before smirking at you. “Our noona has a date,” he speculated on a sing-song voice that made the other two chuckled.

“So where is hyung taking you?” Jungkook pondered, excitement apparent in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me he’s taking you to another exhibit? Aish, he’s so unromantic,” Taehyung lamented, shaking his head at the thought of his hyung and the disastrous date that was about to happen.

“Hyung is not unromantic! As if you know anything about romance,” Jungkook pouted, fully on defending mode for his Namjoon hyung. His lips were in an adorable pout as he chastised Taehyung.

“I know how to be romantic!”

“As if! Until when are you going to keep giving tickets to her until she shows up in our concerts, Taehyung?”

“She will! I can still see her commenting in the weverse!”

“So? Her bias is J-hope, not you!”

You chuckled at the three’s cuteness. Taehyung was now the one pouting while Jungkook looked like he was enjoying tormenting his hyung. You watched them for a moment before finally correcting them. “He’s my boss. We’re not going on a date.”

The three maknaes looked at you with confusion in their eyes. “B-but, why are you so beautiful today?”

You squinted your eyes at Jimin, “So I’m not beautiful everyday?”

“N-No! That’s not what we meant-“Jungkook denied quickly, his eyes widening even further. He was afraid of offending his noona because then, his hyung would looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.

You chuckled lightly, deciding on ending their distress by telling them that you were going to meet with your college friends tonight, in which they were silent. They looked at each other for a moment, as though speaking in telepathy before the oldest maknae spoke up.

“So noona, is that an all-girls event, or no?”

“There’s going to be boys. Why do you ask?”

He smiled at you cheekily, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”

The three maknaes watched you walked away from them, your eyes focused on the tablet in front of you. They sighed in disappointment and worry.

“Namjoon hyung is going to lose his mind,” Taehyung finally broke the silence.

“I don’t want to be here when he finds out noona is going to meet boys from her college,” Jungkook fretted, holding both Tae’s and Jimin’s arms.

“RM is going to be unbearable after this, isn’t he?” Jimin stated with a smile that looked more like a wince. The few times you went out on a date, Namjoon was insufferable. He was quiet, too quiet that the maknaes were scared to make a mistake or speak too loudly. “Shall we move to the mountains for a while?”

Yoongi opened the door, smiling politely at you before letting you in the studio. RM’s back faced you as he hunched over the workspace. He was deciding on what beat sounded best when you arrived.

“You’re here, Y/N? I’m almost done-“ he trailed off once he turned his chair to look at you. His eyes widened before he managed to erase the awestruck expression in his face. But Yoongi saw. He smirked before sitting down on his workstation, looking up at the pair in front of him. The other one was an idiot despite being the most intelligent man in almost any room, and the other was a naive one. He hid his smile on the cup of coffee he was slowly sipping.

“No worries, Namjoon. Take your time,” you smiled at him before sitting on the sofa. He was still not able to take his eyes off of you. And you, the ever naive one, only flashed him your professional smile.

And Yoongi was enjoying it all.

“You looked different today, Y/N,” Yoongi commented tonelessly, egging the leader beside him. “Right, Namjoon?”

You blushed as you could feel your boss’ heavy eyes on you. You flashed Yoongi a shy smile before turning to look at Namjoon. It was a moment, a heartbeat too long before he replied with seriousness in his voice, “She always looks beautiful, Yoongi.”

He wanted to add that you looked like a masterpiece, one that had different meanings whenever he looked at it during different times in his life. You were timeless, his heart wanted to add. However, his brain was deaf in his heart’s true desires.

You blinked at his sudden praise on you. “T-thank you, Namjoon.”

“Is there an occasion?” Yoongi asked innocently after reading the message sent by the maknaes about you and your supposedly college reunion. He almost chuckled when he read that the three were planning on staying as far from the company as possible. But not him. This was fun to him. In his opinion, the two of you should have been in a relationship for a long time now. He thought Namjoon needed the push, or a shove if Suga was being honest. And he was willing to be the one to do that. He was a kind friend like that.

“Oh, I have a reunion with my college friends tonight,” you shared as you fixed the papers that Namjoon needed to look at. You wanted to be efficient today so Namjoon could use the rest of the day to finally relax. You thought his eyes looked a little tired lately.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Namjoon noted lightly, fixing you with his hard stare. “What time are you going to meet them? Where are you going to meet? Will you be out late?”

Yoongi was smiling as he watched RM threw question after question at you. Yet, he failed to ask one thing that should be asked.

“Are there gonna be boys, Y/N?” Yoongi asked innocently, blinking owlishly at you before leaning back and watching it all unfold.

Your affirmative answer made RM’s mood turned sour.

You were on edged as you drove the car expertly from the last location of the schedule today. Even at his age, people around Namjoon still adamantly refused to let him drive. The members thought that he would be a danger to people around him, and to himself as well. Namjoon was uncharacteristically silent as you drove. He was either staring at you or outside. Ever since you picked him up from the company, you could feel that something was off. You just could not pinpoint at it. On the other hand, Namjoon was contemplating…or more appropriately scheming as to how he could keep you with him today.

“Let’s go to Jin’s,” he finally broke the silence, flashing you his normal, dimpled smile.

“What?” This was not in the schedule today. You purposely scheduled light meetings today so that he could go home and you would have more than an ample time to drive to the reunion.

“It’s still early. I promise we’re only going to be an hour.”

Lie.

“Ahhhh actual people!” Jin greeted when he opened the door and saw you and Namjoon. He was carrying the box of baby books he insisted would be helpful to the brain development of Jin’s son.

“Hyung, your son is an actual person,” Namjoon said in a light tone as he took in Jin’s state. Despite the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome that fans would still call him the worldwide handsome. He looked tired, but his eyes held so much happiness that RM could not helped but be happy for his hyung. At the same time, he wanted, no, he craved the domesticity that Jin was now experiencing.

The men were talking and laughing about work as Jin’s wife lead you to her son. You cooed at the child and thought that he would break a lot of hearts in the future. He was a carbon copy of Jin. He was laughing at you when you made funny faces at him, the melodious laughter reached the men’s ears.

“He likes you,” Jin commented, fondly watching his handsome son babbled and laughed. “Do you want to hold him?” His lovely wife asked.

“Really? Can I?” You asked in wonder. She smiled at you before gently laying the happy child safely in your arms.

Your heart melted as you held Jin’s little bundle of joy. The little weight you were holding was someone else’s whole world. He was barely six months old and yet he had so much personality like his father.

“You’re so beautiful, little one,” you whispered to the baby looking up at you as if he understood every word you said.

Namjoon could not even begin to decipher what it was he was feeling when he saw you holding the little Jin in your arms. He just felt this warm feeling in his heart, as if the image of you holding a baby in your arms was from a dream come true. The image was forever imprinted in his mind, he was sure. Something about you felt right. Something about you felt like the missing piece in his life. You had always been there for him. He was not ignorant to think that he could survive without you in his hectic life.

He thought that you were meant to stay in his life.

You were so focused that you almost missed the heat from Namjoon’s body when he leaned in and looked at the baby from your shoulder. You could feel his breath this close that it made you heart beat louder. Was it from shocked? Was it from shyness? Or was it from something else that you had spent years denying?

“So precious,” Namjoon whispered softly. You jumped from the deepness of his voice. You shivered from the body contact you were not used to. You cleared your throat before turning to him.

“Do you wanna hold him?”

And once he had the tiny human in his muscular arms, Namjoon smiled tenderly at Jin’s son. He brushed the sparse of hair he had on his head gently.

For the second time, he said, “I want a baby of my own.”

You were surprised that he once again brought it up. This time it was not only to you but to his hyung. Jin blinked as if he was startled by RM’s admission. He looked at you before looking at his friend.

“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Namjoon,” Jin said in all seriousness. He knew he would. He was sure of it.

“When will you start making a baby of your own, Namjoon?” His wife asked him teasingly, leaning against Jin as they looked at the man observingly.

RM glanced at you, “Soon.”

You were already an hour too late to be considered fashionably late that RM insisted that he’d have his driver dropped you off to your reunion. You wanted to say no, yet you knew it would be impossible to resist Namjoon whenever he was in that mood. He always knew how to get his way, you thought. His intelligent mind knew just what to do, just what to say in order to get what he wanted.

And that night, he did.

Your college friends looked at you happily when you stepped out of the car. They walked closer to you, welcoming you to the party. And there you saw him, the man you hadn’t been able to forget. He was still as handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile when he was approaching when you felt a presence behind you.

“Hi. I just dropped off Y/N. I’m sorry she’s late,” RM greeted the group charmingly before nonchalantly placing his large hand on your waist. You jumped from the contact. He never did that. What would your friends think? Your head was in overdrive that you didn’t notice your friends fawning over the Kim Namjoon. He was treating them kindly, allowing them to take pictures with him before he turned to you.

“Enjoy your night, Y/N,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your cheek.

Well, there went your chance with your college crush.

You didn’t know what to make of his actions that when you went to his house the following week for information pertaining to the property he was looking at, you were on edged. You didn’t have to knock because he told you before to just enter his penthouse. You were given access to his home. You took a deep breath before walking inside his house, not knowing what to anticipate with him, with his touch…and that kiss that should not have happened.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here! Come sit!” Namjoon’s mom called from his dining table, smiling pleasantly at you that you froze. You didn’t expect her here but at least there was a buffer between the two of you now, right?

“It’s been so long! You’re so thin! Is my son too hard on you?” She asked as she pulled you to sit beside her, in front of RM who only looked intently at you. You couldn’t read his expression. He was wearing a simple black shirt that fit a little too snugly on his chest. You hated how you were noticing yet again his physical qualities like you did when you were merely starting. His mom was still reprimanding his son as she put plate in front of you despite you offering to help. She merely shrugged you off, happy that you were there to take care of her son. Who knew what would happen to him if you weren’t here, she thought. RM was silently eating, enjoying the way his mom was mothering you when she turned her attention to him once again.

“When will you give me a grandchild? With the way you are working, you have no time for family! All my friends and neighbors have at least one grandchild. Son, just give me one, okay? Just one,” She pleaded as she placed more food on his plate.

“Okay, omma,” Namjoon consented. He was serious, yet his mother groaned as if he was just placating her.

“You,” she turned to you, placing more food on your plate as well. “Don’t be like my son. Go make your own babies! I’ll just borrow your child every once in a while, okay?” She told you humorously as she laughed and told you that you needed to eat more.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the man’s face darkened with the mere thought of you carrying someone else’s child. He hated the thought of you not being his. He had the whole weekend to think intensely, and all the answers pointed to you.

You didn’t have time to discuss with him what had transpired. The following weeks, he was busy with work, yet this time he had always quietly ordered that you’d be with him. Before, you only had to meet with him thrice a week. But now, you were with him almost everyday. You were working in his office when Hoseok and Yoongi entered the room.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed before walking to you with the brightest smile you had ever seen. Yoongi only smiled at you in acknowledgement before approaching RM and showing him his laptop. They were deep in conversation when Hoseok asked you if you knew where the list for the event was. You nodded before standing up. It was in the overhead cabinet. You reached for it in difficulty for a moment when you felt a hand on your waist, and RM’s muscular arm stretched beside you as he grabbed with such ease what you were trying to reach. He was as near as that night. “Here you go, Y/N,” he whispered…and heavens did it feel sensual in your ear. His hot breath tickled your neck. You could feel your cheeks heat up from his proximity.

You were starting to notice that RM was becoming…touchy lately. It didn’t feel disrespectful to you, it just felt like something changed with the way he was acting, with the way he was looking at you, with the way he was demanding your attention.

J-hope looked at Suga in astonishment. Were these two finally a thing?

One night, you were walking to your humble apartment with Namjoon beside you. His hands were in his pockets as he walked you to your door despite you telling him that you were fine. But you should know, he was a stubborn one. It was late, and the only light were from the hallway of your apartment. It was almost midnight when the two of you arrived at your apartment after checking out the house Namjoon wanted to buy. He asked you what you thought of it, and you said it was beautiful. The yard was spacious with swimming pool. The house itself had numerous bedrooms that you didn’t know who would stay there. In your mind, you rationalized that it must be his members if ever they wanted to stay. In Namjoon’s mind, it was for his family. He listened intently to what you had to say, and only when he saw how your face lightened up when you saw the whole house did he decide to buy it.

“Here I am, boss Namjoon,” you announced jokingly before straining to look up at your tall employer.

You blinked when he only stared at you, “Namjoon?”

“Good night, my princess,” he murmured with his deep voice.

Did he just…call you his princess?

You were too shocked to notice him leaning down. And once he did, you felt his lips kissed your forehead softly, his large hand on the back of your head. You were frozen when he stepped back.

And then he left.

Namjoon thought you needed time to process everything. He knew you were an over-thinker, that you were a flight risk. He just didn’t know you would be like this with mere kisses on your cheek and forehead. You hadn’t been picking up your phone since that day, and he had half a mind to go to your apartment. But he had to keep in mind that there were less conspicuous method to use.

You read the message from Namjoon this afternoon. Apparently, he forgot to pick up the gift he had for his father’s birthday and he was now in his hometown. He was half-pleading and half-apologizing for his clumsiness that you felt bad to just leave him on read. And so you replied that you’d bring it to him.

Your mind was blank as you drove for hours to him. Ever since that night, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury and successfully did, were resurfacing. It was unfair, you thought. You didn’t have the emotional capacity to fall for him. You knew how this would end. When you started to work for him, you thought he was everything. You looked up to him because he was so kind, so intelligent, and so masculine. He was gentle with you even when you made a mistake. He helped you find an apartment that was safe after he saw how you were living before. He paid for the deposit and for the rent during the first year despite your adamant refusal. He even paid for your grandmother’s hospital bills, the only family you had. She had lived longer than what the doctor said. She died without experiencing difficulty eventually, all thanks to RM’s connections to the best hospitals. You wanted to pay him. You even refused to accept your salary, with no success. Namjoon just merely shrugged and said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as he was around. And you believed him.

And so, you did your best to take care of him day and night. Even going beyond your job description. You became his secretary, but what was more, you became his friend, an ear to vent on, even a shoulder to lay his head to rest.

One night, RM had too much to drink. He was feeling suffocated from the pressure of the world. You found him staring on an empty bottle of whiskey when you arrived in his penthouse. That night, you sat with him, listened to his worries, rubbed his back with comforting hands. You assured him that he was not the version he thought of himself. He was better. He was the best man you ever knew. You told him how much you appreciated him, and that he was doing his best.

That night, he asked you what he would do without you.

That night, you told him he’d never have to find out.

That night, he kissed you.

And come morning, he forgot about it.

But you didn’t. And that was the first time he hurt you.

Your memory trail stopped when you saw him standing in front of their house, waiting for you.

His father, just like his mother, was able to convince you to stay the night. He said you were family, and that it would be his birthday wish to spend it with the woman who managed to keep his son alive. He even joked that without you, RM would probably forget to pay his bills, to keep his fish alive, or even to eat. You laughed and said RM was becoming more mature lately and that he could survive without you. RM disagreed.

“You know what, you could do so much than be with my brother,” RM’s younger sister said teasingly as all of you were eating dinner. She stuck her tongue out to her brother who just rolled his eyes at her.

“Oh,” you chuckled shyly before looking at the tall man sitting beside you. “We’re not together!”

“Why not? I was just kidding. I think you’re perfect for him,” she admitted before smiling at the two of you. She was just voicing out what her family had been thinking for years. By now, you were a permanent fixture in their lives that if and not when the day comes that RM introduced someone else to them, they would find it hard to accept her.

You chuckled before telling her that your relationship with her brother was strictly professional.

“He’s working you too hard, isn’t he?” His father asked you as he shook his head at his innocent son. “Listen to me, life is too short to work all day. Go out and have a beautiful life! Or else you’ll find yourself old and alone one day without a family of your own.”

Once the intimate party died down, you found yourself talking with RM in the living room with alcohol in front of you. The two of you were seated on the floor side by side with the sofa behind you. His parents had called it a night after drinking with them, while his sister tapped out as well. Alcohol and the existence of other people helped to die down the awkwardness you felt. You were laughing at RM’s anecdote about the thing that happened during their dance practice. He watched you with contentment in his face. Seeing you happy was making him feel like he did something right, like he won one of those awards. He didn’t know when it started, but he just knew the desire to make you laugh would never go away. He was sure of it.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re just used to teasing me.”

You waved him off before pouring his empty glass, before pouring yours. “It’s nothing, really. I had fun. I’m glad I came.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he admitted, his look at you was as intense as that night that your heart started to beat harder, as if it wanted to escape the cage it was in. You blinked and decided to look away. You fanned yourself, “It’s quite warm in here, right?”

Namjoon smirked before drinking, his eyes never wavering from your face. “You’re beautiful, princess,” he commented, his voice deep as he waited for you to look at him again. He was near, so near that his thighs were touching yours. So near that whenever he moved, his muscular arm brushed against yours.

“God, you’re so drunk,” you muttered before looking up at him.

“I may be. But come morning and ask me again, and I’d still tell you you’re the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.”

You gulped, his voice deepened even further. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he admitted with intensity in his voice, with promise in his eyes. “I know I love you.”

Your eyes widened before attempting to move away from him when you felt his massive hand on your back, preventing you from moving away from him, effectively stopping you from running away from the truth that he never tried to fight.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your hand now on his chest as you tried to stop him from coming any closer. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d feel how hard your heart was beating just for him. Or how terrified you were of falling, only to have him forget about it again. To forget you again.

“I do. I mean it,” he whispered leaning in slowly at you. “I love you.” And then he kissed you. And you were all too powerless to stop him. He pulled away after a moment. You were breathing hard, your eyes trained on his lips before meeting his eyes. And then this time, you kissed him.

You didn’t know how, but the two of you found yourselves in his bedroom. His hand was entangled with your hair, your hands caressing his broad back as he walked you to his bed. You were drunk from the alcohol and his kisses, his heavenly kisses. He pushed you gently to the bed, and not a second was wasted before he joined you. You pulled off his shirt, your eyes in awe at his form. His muscles were definitely more defined now than when you last saw it accidentally back when you were just beginning to work for him. His chest looked definitely stronger. You were aware of this from seeing him wearing tight shirts, but this? This was something else.

You moaned lightly as Namjoon trailed kisses on your neck, peppering it with subtle marks of his own. He thought that you were his, and that your neck should be adorned with his marks. “Keep it down, princess,” he teased you as he got impatient with the endless buttons of your blouse that he resorted to ripping it off of you. He couldn’t be gentle. Not when the woman of his dreams was finally on his bed. “Or do you want me to cover your mouth?”

You didn’t know that he had it in him to be a dirty talker. You were feeling the heat when he smirked at you before you felt his lips on your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your core. You closed your legs, shyness finally coming back to you as you sobered from his sinful kisses. He was kneeling, his legs were on either side of you as he leaned closer to you once again. “Be a good girl and open your legs, princess,” he ordered, his hand caressing your soft thigh.

His commanding voice was like a hypnotic spell that you found yourself opening your legs slowly for him. And as a reward, he made your legs shook. You were still catching your breath that you didn’t notice he placed a pillow under you, lifting your core. He kissed you once again on your lips so tenderly, so lovingly that for a moment you believed he loved you.

“You are made for me, princess,” he whispered before looking at you with darkness in his eyes, “You’re made for daddy. Say it.”

You keened when you felt his hardness slide at your core teasingly, punishingly as you waited a little too long to repeat what he wanted you to.

“Say it, princess. Don’t make daddy mad,” his hot breaths were tickling your ear as he pinched your sore nipple that you yelped.

“I-I’m made- ugh- I’m made for daddy,” you finally said as you felt his thick head slowly entered your drenched core.

“And who’s your daddy?”

“You are.”

That night, he told you repeatedly how you were his and his only. He made you promised that you would never leave him, and that you would never ignore him once again. He made you come so much that you lost track of the time. His large hand was on your mouth, preventing you from waking the whole house up as he rutted against you with so much stamina and passion. He made you so mindless that you didn’t realize he was finishing inside you each time. He made sure to not let a single drop leave your core.

The third time he didn’t have to mention about wanting a baby of his own, he just did.

Tip Jar

[enviedear]

jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd @cqsmo @coconut-dreamz @preciouspinkyy

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ to remain on my taglist, make sure to interact :)

[apple-salad]

Rose Ribbon Embroidery "Mini" Projects (for BABY NYFW) Part 2: Embroidered Bonnet

I decided semi-last minute to attend BABY's fashion show at NYFW!

BABY had mentioned in their NYFW brand description that their newest collection would be a return to their origins, as well as presenting archival items.

You have to dress to impress for NYFW, right? So of course, I had to pull out all the stops and wear my Rose Ribbon Embroidery.

Also at the last minute, I decided to make a few extra complementing items...

A matching RRE kumya JSK, and a bonnet.

What follows is more of a sew-along/journal rather than a tutorial or guide, mainly for my own memory's sake. But if you enjoy looking at my process (sometimes sloppy), I'm happy!

Also feel free to take a look at the more romantic process video I edited.

Part 1: Kumya JSK

Part 2: Bonnet (you are here)

This post will be my process pictures and notes for the bonnet, as well as a matching mask as a bonus.

I don't believe BABY released matching headwear for Rose Ribbon Embroidery, although I've seen an unknown velveteen headbow with rose lace sold with RRE before.

BABY usually coords RRE with the bunny ear bonnet since Ichigo wears it this way in Kamikaze Girls.

I do own this because I wanted to wear an Ichigo-like outfit at some point, but for this occasion I decided to do something different and make a "matching" embroidered bonnet.

I originally wanted to make a hard bonnet with a very defined brim that could show off the embroidery clearly as I don't really like soft bonnets, but when looking at existing BABY bonnets as a reference, it doesn't look like hard bonnets were a thing back in 2004 (and as it is, BABY rarely releases hard bonnets). So to keep with the oldschool theme, the bonnet is a soft one, although I later make some decisions to make it slightly more structured.

The next decision to make was full bonnet vs half bonnet. The bunny ear bonnet is a full bonnet and I think this is technically more "period accurate", but I am not a fan of how they look like a weird hood from the back so I opted for half (plus, that makes construction and patterning easier for me).

I still used my own bunny ear bonnet as a reference for approximate brim dimensions!

The kumya JSK was a little easier to carelessly sketch out and embroider since I was copying 1:1 from an existing design, but I felt I needed to do at least a bit more careful planning for the embroidery on this. I'm quite bad at creating embroidery designs from scratch, but with the mental image of the rose clusters and swags of vine, as well as referencing the embroidery from the film, I came up with this:

I wanted to emulate the embroidery style of the Momoko's (well, in reality likely the embroidery designer Onoe Megumi--unclear if she did the actual embroidery, but it's likely) embroidery, which I figured wouldn't be too difficult if I was also embroidering by hand.

For material, I am using the same velveteen I used for kumya's JSK. Not my first choice and I actually purchased some thicker looking 100% cotton velvet that I thought would be more similar to the original JSK material, but was worried it wouldn't arrive in time and wanted this project out of the way in case things went wrong/took longer than I expected (it did arrive about a week before the event, but it was totally wrong IRL so I'm glad I just went with this acceptable option). I also bought some more torchon lace, so I used that and another lace from my stash.

The colours of the embroidery in the film also seem to be quite different than BABY's dress. I'm not sure if the pink of the roses has faded over the years, but it has a slight salmon tone whereas the film's roses seem to be more of a pale cool/neutral pink (hard to tell with the yellow tint of the entire film) with some variegation. I love the colour scheme of the film's embroidery, but to keep things coordinated I try to opt for the same colours as the actual dress I have.

I only have white silk ribbon in the width I wanted, so I opted to attempt to dye it to match. Previously I have used alcohol markers to colour the embroidery afterwards, but I find the colour hard to control and it tends to bleed into the fabric. I've also tried colouring the ribbon with the marker before embroidering, but without heat setting the colour transfers onto the fabric as well (and it seems like trying to do so with the amount of ribbon I need would be a waste of ink).

I don't have a lot of experience with it, but since the ribbon is silk, acid dyeing seemed like the way to go.

Very interesting photo of ribbon in pot (the pink ribbon gets eaten up by pinwheel roses much faster than I expected so this is the second batch I had to dye--not ideal as they are definitely slightly different in colour but it's not too noticeable). In total, I think I had to dye 3 batches of ribbon and 4 for the pink ribbon as I just barely ran out near the end, and they are all slightly different colours. Thankfully the undertone is the same so it's difficult to tell unless you are really comparing up close.

I thought I would take this opportunity to use the "peach" acid dye that I bought years ago for another project, but this ended up being a mistake as the colour was totally off (maybe the red dye was too expired). I ended up using my regular fiber reactive procion dyes (with heat/acid), because I have many more colours I could mix together, and that was much better. I really should have done this from the start as I wasted perfectly good silk ribbon by making it too dark/off for my purposes (I ended up overdyeing it in pink so it's a usable colour now, but not for this project).

The silk seems to take on dye extremely fast--even just heating up the dyebath will colour it. In some cases I removed the ribbon before adding any acid at all because I felt the ribbon was already getting too dark.

I managed to get a fairly usable mossy green colour for the leaves and vines, however the pink still ended up being a little off/dark compared to whatever BABY used. It's not too bad here as one strand of ribbon, but when many layers are on top of each other in a rose it seems pretty dark. While not ideal, I think it's still okay, especially considering the embroidery colours used in kumya's JSK match nothing else (many pinks will be going on in this coord).

After dyeing and drying, the ribbon is super wrinkled so I ironed it and wound it on some spare card so it's ready to use.

And now I can start the arduous process of embroidery.

Like before, I mainly use a combination of ordinary ribbon stitches, pinwheel roses, and french knot roses. However, this time I try harder to duplicate, or at least evoke the appearance of the embroidery of the film.

It's interesting how plain and somewhat boring the roses look on their own, especially with this monotone colouring. The varied colours of the film's embroidered roses are lovely, but I decided against it here because the BABY dress has monotone ribbon roses.

The roses definitely seem to just be pinwheel style which is very easy and doable, however I am a bit more confused about the leaves. They look like a number of straight stitches in various lengths and directions that fill in a leaf-like shape. I have no idea if this technique has a name and if there is a proper method for it, because I am a silly beginner who is very uneducated in embroidery.

Anyway I do my best and hopefully I got close enough. Ribbon embroidery is really all about the texture, which is really lovely to look at. Except I have trouble looking at my own work for too long because I start nitpicking all the mistakes I made...

Adding the green and leaves really helps the embroidery come to life.

I took even fewer pictures of the embroidery process than kumya's JSK this time because it's not that interesting. I was definitely getting sick of doing the same pinwheel over and over...

I stupidly decided that aside from embroidering the front of the brim, I also wanted a little bit of embroidery on the back of the brim for interest, as well as on the side.

The designs I drafted out for these two pieces is much simpler, but still, more work....

Almost ready for construction! Hopefully a lot faster with the handwork out of the way.

I iron on some interfacing onto the back brim panel and the bonnet band for slight extra stiffness.

The bottom part of the brim is plain cotton sateen because I was worried that the part that touches the head would get dirtier more quickly it if was velveteen.

I wanted some lace gathered around the brim and an extra velveteen ruffle on the back of the band, so I prepare that now. The lace is gathered with a single gathering thread and sewn down before sandwiching between the two brim panels.

Brim sewn and topstitched (and band is ready for attachment).

The upper flowers ended up a little closer to the top of the band then I intended, but I think it's okay.

Gathering brim and attaching it to band. Because the velvet fabric is so thick, the usual "sew one line of stitching with a wide stitch length" not only made the fabric incredibly difficult to gather, but the thin polyester thread also continually broke when trying to do so. Therefore, I opted for an alternative method I think I'd remember seeing in my sewing machine manual of all things--a zigzag carefully stitched over a central gathering thread. This worked much better, although I probably should have used a thicker/extra strong thread as the central gathering thread because it did break the second time I had to gather the brim due to a mistake.

I also add a bit of lace to the inside of the brim. I think this adds some luxury and frilliness between the head and the bonnet's brim, so I wanted to add a small width. I probably could have used even more of the lace's width since it turned out very subtle when worn. But I still think it adds a small amount of interest to the innermost part of the brim and was worth adding.

Unfortunately here after sewing on both brim parts I realize that I gathered both using an incorrectly marked centre line, so I had to rip it out and do it again ;_;

Next, I can carefully align and pin the bottom of the brim to the bonnet and sew it down. I tack this down by hand because I'm not skilled/accurate enough with a sewing machine to topstitch both sides nicely at once (look closely, and my messy stitching is quite visible...)

I also fold in the raw edges and finish the sides of the brim by hand, leaving some openings for ribbon ties.

At this point I spray almost the whole bonnet with water to disperse and fade my markings. Unfortunately, some of the earlier batches of ribbon that I dyed (Can you tell the variance in the 3 dye batches I needed to do?) were probably not washed well after dying and seem to have bled into the fabric from the water...but hopefully it's not too noticeable.

Next I topstitched all around the brim and attached the ribbon ties.

I bought some double sided velvet ribbon in my last minute supplies shipment and made some bows from it. I think the material is a little thick and petersham would have worked alright as well, but the consistent velvet material feels more luxurious, doesn't it? I also think as an added benefit (?) the ribbon being plush and double sided made the bows more puffy looking.

I add some clips to the sides and a toupee clip to the top for security. I opted for a toupee clips because I think it's really the way to go if you don't want the head item to move at all, no matter how thin or slippery your hair.

Finished.

Bonus 1: rose accent pin

I was in a bit of a rush at this point as it was near the end of the week coming up to the show, so I didn't take any photos of the process here but the technique and templates I used were identical to my handmade faux rose rosettes I made for UM (and the bonus corsages). I have a post with all the details of this sitting in my drafts that I will post eventually, and I will update this post when that happens.

The brooch was just meant to add a bit of 3D faux flower accent to the bonnet, bringing in the rose motif even more. Partially inspired by the faux flowers BABY adds to their bonnets sometimes, like on Milk Tea Doll.

The fabric was "custom dyed" with the same fiber reactive dye I used for the silk. The fabric was further starched, cut out by hand, and shaped with flower iron tools before gluing together.

Bonus 2: matching embroidered mask

I wasn't sure about whether or not I wanted to wear a matching mask, but decided to do so for situations when I would want my face at least half-covered in public. I didn't really expect to be visible in fashion show pictures as someone in the back, but just in case. (I think this decision was worth it, although my makeup transferred all over the thing and in most pictures my face was even more unflattering. eh well)

I forgot to take a lot of pictures of my process for this, but it's very uninteresting and not dissimilar from every other mask sewalong from 2020. I draft out a design similar to the bonnet motifs on both of my mask panels (cotton sateen), and embroider.

I should have embroidered closer to the centre of the mask because when worn the embroidery is not very visible/covered by my hair at the sides. What can I do since the panels were already cut though...oh well!

The lining material is some Japanese CLEANSE Ex fabric I had bought previously to make masks during the pandemic. It's supposed to be antibacterial and antiviral, as well as washable, but I have no idea how well supported those claims are.

Sew together normally on both upper and lower sides, turn inside out, add a channel for nose wire and side channels for elastic.

I also have some mask elastic on hand so I use that.

And the finished outfit again with all my items~

Thank you for reading! If you ever feel inspired to take up a similar project, such as the kumya JSK, I'd love to see it!

[frogchiro]

in her arms, i am calm

so umm,, after the scrumptious surprise that mhy gave us in the form of the fatui harbingers, so as promised, I decided to write a little something for the man that literally made my poor brain shut down and go into stand-by mode, Pierro <3

as promised, I'm tagging the wonderful @jade-parcels, she has been and still is my biggest inspiration SINCE MONTHS, and you may know me under the anon alias Fish!🐡 :) many other people have been so kind and encouraging, so i decided to bite the bullet and make a grand reveal! i'm dedicating this to you darling jade, I really hope you and others will enjoy it as much as I did writing this! also this turned out way less dirty than I intended, but what can I say, I'm a whore for fluffy smut 😭

warnings: reader is +18 years old!! (indicated to be as old as childe but feel free to read it as you please!), fem!reader (reader is refered to as a female with female body parts), heavy NSFW themes, age gap, referenced violence (not against the reader), possible dark themes, also please note that I took HEAVY liberties regarding Pierro and the rest of the Harbingers lore as we literally know almost nothing about them, so please take this with a grain of salt ;)

маленькая-little one

Pierro prided himself on many things, from his bravery and prowess in battle that led him and his country to many victories over the many years he served the Tsaritsa, the countless riches he aquired and hoarded in his mansion, right up to being crowned the First Fatui Harbinger, the Pierrot, the right hand of the Tsaritsa, something he knew many would kill for.

Yet all of that paled next to you, the little beauty that captured his old but sharp as ever eyes. For the first time in...years Pierro was truly at loss of words, for the first time he just... didn't know. Why did you, little, young, naive you capture the eyes of the oldest, most prominent Fatui Harbinger? He knew you of course, how could he not; you were the Tsaritsa's personal handmaiden, her favourite. You always accompanied your Goddess wherever she took you, which was almost everywhere, and he watched you with his snowy, sharp eyes, watched as your own clear (e/c) ones watched and rapidly tried to take everything in, your curiosity and wonder almost being child-like and naive in his eyes.

'She's still young my friend, I think you forgot how it was being like her, cut her some slack would you~'

Came the rich, deep voice of Pantalone, his fellow Harbinger. Pierro only rolled his eyes in quiet annoyance as he continued to watch you as your beautiful eyes flittered across the sprawling ballroom being decorated for the upcoming ball, everyone working extra hard as the Tsaritsa herself decided to attend the preparations, her favourite girl in tow, dutifully following her Majesty and listening to her speech about something the blonde man couldn't care less, his eyes focused on you.

Reminiscing the not-so-long-ago past, Pierro was interrupted with a sweet sweet whine that came from under him and he was quickly focused back on the present and on you.

'I'm sorry маленькая, I got a bit lost in my thoughts and neglected you eh? We can't have that, can we?'

Pierro rasped in a deep rumbling voice that you could feel through his chest in your tummy, the man always made sure to keep you as close to himself as physically possible, in and out of bed.

'To keep the cold away', he would say, but judging by the faint fond look in his usually stony eyes you could tell it way an excuse to simply touch you, not that you nor he'd ever admit it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the strong thurst that moved you up the bed a little and caused you to cling tightly to Pierro's broad back that you loved so much. Another lond whine escaped your mouth as the man above you grunted and you felt a particulary well aimed thrust hit your sweet sport head on. You knew that although Pierro would never admit this, he loved it when you were loud and vocal in bed, so you let go of all the remaining thoughts and just let yourself feel.

The lovemaking session lasted well into the night, only the blazing hot fire in the enormous fireplace, the bright starts and Moon in the dark sky and the tiny snowflakes being the witnesses to your passion.

Pierro was watching you all night; all your gasps, moans and groans of pleasure, the faces you made, all the little eye rolls and your little pink tongue sticking out a bit, he watched it all with rapt attention, wanting to burn all these images into his mind and treasure them forever. He came shortly after your orgasm, how could he not? Your perfect walls clenching tightly around his cock, milking him for all he's worth and the sudden wet gush he felt send the man over the edge and he allowed to loose himself in the earth-shattering pleasure. With the last few deep thrusts that you swore touched your deepest, most intimate parts, he came with a rumbling growl and let himself fill you up to the brim. You moaned weakly and flinched at the feeling of hot cum shooting against your poor battered cervix, but your lover was quick to hold you still with his strong arms, not allowing you to even move an inch away from his hips as he quickly leaned down to capture your lips with his, and you have to admit, for a man as stoic and ice-cold as him, his kisses were sure expressive.

After he parted his lips from you, Pierro let out a heavy breath that he swore felt as if a stone was lifted from his weary heart. He kept looking at you, happy, full and sated and terribly sleepy as you always were after a night like this, you sometimes would tease him that for a man his age he sure had the strength and stamina of a young stallion at which he would always roll his eyes and tell you to get lost.

But now, in the privacy of his chambers, he looked at you with a look of adoration and utter devotion, his pale eyes looking and capturing every little detail of your tired and sweaty face as your heavy pants mingled with each other, your lips almost touching as you smiled tiredly up at him before reaching out and cupping his face in your small soft hands, your fingers caressing his face, combing through his long golden hair and beard, mapping every single one of his features before bringing his face closer and closing the distance between you.

Contrary to the heavy, lustful kisses full of tongue and teeth in the heat of the moment, these kisses were slow, calm and full on emotions, lips delicately touching and moving, tongues barely grazing each other.

After some time of post-coital cuddles and affection and a bit of soft whispery talk, you finally let your tired eyes rest after cuddling up close to your lover, but all the raging thoughts came back to keep Pierro from sleep.

After placing you on his broad chest and tugging the numerous thick comforters and luxurious furs over you two and making sure you were snug and warm, he let his thoughts wander.

Pierro knew painfully well that you two were an odd pair to say the least, in fact it was a big fucking understatement. He was...well, him, The First Fatui Harbinger, the stronges of them all, The Pierrot, the terror that shook the very earth where he stood, and you were this innocent little thing that was way to curious and clever for your own good.

He was no poet nor a great bard that could sing endless songs and ballads dedicated to your beauty, so he just described you as 'stunning' yet he felt immensely frustrated to call you this one simple word.

The planes of your unmarked (s/c) soft and healthy skin, the tiny little spots and blemishes that made you distinctly you, your (h/c) hair, always so thick and shiny, he loves to touch it and comb his hands through when you sleep, your wide curious (e/c) eyes. But what draws him to you the most are your perfect full lips that he oh so loves to kiss and trace with his fingers, the smiles you give him and when you laugh at his dry non-existent humor are angelic to his ears.

Don't get him wrong, the ever vigilant Harbinger sees and hears all the whispers of soldiers and servants alike, he's painfully aware of the gossip and rumors, of them talking about what a big old brute wants with a beautiful young thing like you.

Pierro frowns and almost growls with frustration when he remembers all the times that unhinged ginger brat made a fool out of himself to gain your attention, but can he really blame him? You're both the same age or at least close to him, much closer than you are to Pierro, or the stone-cut Arlecchino has the faintest blush on her icy face when you bring her some document the Tsaritsa personally asked you to deliver, and Pierro is about to recall even more scenarios like this that make his blood boil but he felt you move against his side, your naked breasts squishing oh so deliciously against his scarred chest and just like this all the negative toughts are gone and instead are replaced with these strange warm fuzzy feelings he feels whenever he looks at you.

He decides that enough is enough, he can't afford a headache that will make him miserable and cranky, so he lets go of those dark frustrating thoughts and moves down so that your face is in hidden in his neck and he allows himself to comb his fingers through your hair. He breaths in deep, taking in your distinctive scent that mixed with his creating something new and wonderful, and so the gruff, cold and seemingly unapproachable Harbinger lets himself rest and succumb to a deep slumber with the one good thing in his long life safe in his arms.

[rachiebeee]

some Leo headcanons I have

Leo doesn't know what day his birthday is. He knows its in July, but he hasn't done anything on it since he was 8 and he used to act like it was/wasn't on certain days based on how well they went (he thinks its the 7th, but he hates the number 7 so he ignores it).

Leo has stolen and crashed a police car. He will do it again.

Leo's mother and Aunt Rosa both had dreams from Gaea that told them Leo was going to kill Esperanza, but Esperanza took it as an "he'll do it on accident bc he doesn't know how to control his powers" and Rosa took it as "It's a sign from God and this child was sent by the devil".

He's asexual biromantic, but in love with the idea of being in love.

He learns a form of script-based magic - the same thing that is etched on each stone used for the Hecate cabin. Jo is his teacher, but when he visits camp all of the Hecate cabin are happy to help him too. He views it as a code instead of magic, and only ever uses it in the things he builds because he forgets it can be useful on its own.

He's a Fall out Boy stan. Loves all types of rock too, but FOB was his gateway into it.

Every time he went to a new school if they had a music program he could join for free he would. Originally he'd just choose a new instrument every school, but on his third try he learnt drums and decided to stick with it.

HIs eyes look like yooperlite while it's glowing, but more like burning coals while he's using his powers.

On that note, Leo's body temperature can be way hotter than the normal person's. On a normal day where he's fine in everyway, he's hot but not hot enough for people to think he's feverish. When he's excited his temperature rapidly increases, as it does with stress. When he forgoes sleeping his body forgets to regulate his temperature, which leads to him either going very cold or very hot.

He can't really get fevers at all really. It's also very hard for a lot of illnesses to effect him because half the time he burns it up before he even knows its there. When he does get sick it's really bad though, because his immune system is actually pretty weak.

Related to that, he is the only known person who can currently be a theoretical host to a thermophile virus. Not that he would, but it is a thought that has crossed his mind.

He has a hobby of making little robots. He makes Piper a bronze eagle one as a present and he slowly starts to make them for his friends

Annabeth gets a cat because he thinks she has cat vibes and an owl would be basic. Percy gets an otter because Leo did not want to think about making a robot fish that works well out of water. Frank gets a chameleon as a joke, but he makes it so it can turn into a small dragon too. Hazel gets a snake, again for the vibes. Nico gets a lizard. Just like, a nondescript lizard. He makes Reyna a bronze dog to "complete the metal set", but it's based of a Molossus of Epirus instead of a hound. Jo and Emmie get matching gryphons, and Georgina's little robot is a llama. Leo makes himself a wolf in honour of Jason.

On the topic of making things, Leo also gets really into all forms of metalsmithing. Which includes making jewellery, which leads to him getting a lot of piercings. Piper does too, because they went to go get the piercings together. He loves giving people little friendship bracelets, and charms, and ornaments. He makes people themed cutlery sets.

His love language is gift giving, if it's not obvious.

He stays in contact with Apollo, but in order to not upset Zeus they frame it as 'music lessons'. As the inventor of the Valdezinator (and its best player), it's a pretty good excused. Leo does make new instruments occasionally when they feel like they're pushing the 'lesson' excuse.

They fr just gossip during them though, and then give each other a scuffed form of therapy. They go from talks about petty drama to unanswerable philosophical discussions to jokes that make no sense.

[rel312]

I forgot the Miraculous Awakening movie was supposed to come out so now I’m gonna ramble about it (spoilers!):

The jumpscare of hearing Marinette sing in a completely different voice took me off guard

I’m loving actually seeing gabriel as a fashion designer and what his stuff looks like

Chloe sounds… very much not like Chloe and it’s off putting (idk if it’s a different voice actor, I’m not looking it up)

“Think you an I were meant to be” I love Alya

Emilie? This clearly in the movie??

Was that Luka I just saw next to Juleka? At school???

The black cat on the book!

Adrien looks so pretty in that shot

Are… are Nino and Adrien already friends??

Gabriel’s hair

The loss of Emilie seems to be a lot more recent/present than in the series

Ohhh it’s her birthday

The lore is very interesting in this, we’re getting a lot more that wasn’t there in the show

So the miraculous have a choice in this for their holders I guess

Fu is so funny

The moon!

Was… was the black cat a coincidence? How did it get there? I don’t think it was Plagg so what was that??

So the first akumatized victim is not a child this time

There’s a ladybug too? I’m so confused

“Who saves a life saves the world” interesting that it’s more prophecy-like

I keep forgetting this is a musical

I love the beats of the theme song though

Is- is Tikki rapping???

No transformation sequence?

So she’s aware it’s a musical?

Is the yo-yo sentient???

No Adrien and Plagg intro scene?

Adrien is so funny he’s so excited to be a hero

Pretty different ladynoir dynamic, cat noir’ not immediately smitten

“A she-ro” please no

She called him Kitty!

CARELESS WHISPER???

Now he’s smitten

“Like a dream in a dream” Adrien you have to work on your lyrics

But the moon

Fart jokes? Really?

PTFAFS

Adrien going from she’s my side kick to she’s better than me in every way

Puss in boots

“I have nothing to lose” um your son??

Gabriel villain song kinda goes hard ngl

Is he making multiple villains? I’m so lost

Are they making Mr. Mime a real villain now? Not Mylene’s dad?

Also who is this pink haired lady?

“Dr. Love” Nino I love you but you’re so wrong

So Nino already has a crush on Alya and not Marinette

Aww Tom gets to hear Marinette call him the best

Only to immediately think she’s embarrassed by him

Nino losing his glasses on the ride is legit my biggest fear when going on rides

Transformation sequence!

Where did she actually transform though? She was just in the middle of the fair

They learned to work together fast

So I guess he doesn’t need to say the word cataclysm?

I love Ferris wheels rolling around scenes

Lmao Marinette really went I’ll save your life but you’re going in the dumpster

The timeline of this movie is very confusing, Nino is in love with Alya? But wasn’t it just the first day of school? Or was it just in the middle? When did Nino and Adrien meet? I have so many questions

Was the balloon thing a person? If not who created him and how?

THEME SONG!

Are we really getting all this adrienette development in a montage?? He told her about his mom, they went to the movies, they had a double date with Alya and Nino, and were barely getting it???

I love the glitter in Cat Noir’s mask

Ladynoir moment by the moon!

Marinette stood up to Chloe!

Adrien you cannot scare a person like that

The hearts in the balcony and the moon again!

I’m loving the visuals in this movie

“For the first time I feel truly free, it’s all thanks to you” my heart!

Ladynoir seems to be the main ship of the movie and I’m not mad about it

Oh my god their dance by the moon! I knew it was coming but I love it so much!

“How could I ever think she’d fall for me” Adrien stop she does love you she just doesn’t realize it’s you

Gabriel looks like shit and I’m glad to see it

I’m glad Adrien was able to stand up to him though

She actually managed to ask him out holy shit!

I mean I know it’s sad cause he rejected her but she actually managed to do it look at her!

I… did not think her shirt was a tank top this is so weird

Hawkmoth is akumatizing himself???

Careless Whisper again??? Are the writers ok??

Did they really need the takeout death?

The- the moth miraculous just… ate the ladybug miraculous???

I guess they don’t quite have cataclysm and lucky charm, their powers work a bit differently

Gabriel’s face at seeing Adrien, now you finally see what you’ve done you SOB

I’m glad they get to reconcile

So she can just… fix everything without a lucky charm??

Her dress is so pretty!

And she’s not wearing a mask!

The reveal in this is so interesting but pretty cute!

The way she took off his mask and put it on her was so freaking cute!

Really? Cut to the end right before the kiss??

So he does have Emilie in the basement?

Wait a minute I don’t think we ever got to see Chloe and Adrien interact in the movie lmao

The movie started a bit more cheesy and childish but overall they did a pretty good job of telling the story. The visuals were stunning, though the story was a bit rushed but they did a good job. There wasn’t quite enough time to develop the characters and their dynamics but they did the best they could with the time they had. The person who did Marinette’s singing voice was amazing, but I wish they found someone who sounded more like Marinette if they couldn’t use the same voice actress. The lore was a bit different but I kind of like it better than how much we started getting in later seasons, I just wish we got a bit more explanation on some things cause we don’t have the show to give us answers anymore. The only reason I feel like this ending with gabriel and Adrien works is because they didn’t have as much of an abusive relationship and he actually had a chance to redeem himself, but I’m glad he has to actually deal with the consequences. I know there are tons of fanfics about it but it’s so sad that while Marinette knew who Adrien was, he had no idea if he’d ever see Ladybug again but I’m glad that got resolved pretty quickly. I’m confused on what they want to do next cause they clearly were setting up for some kind of sequel but gabriel is already out as Hawkmoth and Nathalie only helped him during that time but I guess we’d just have to wait and see.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, religion, obsession, violence, war (if you look really closely)

Jade Leech/Malleus Draconia-Voicelines about you, the Overseer

Cheering to yourself you looked at the screen, confirming that you just purchased the new voicelines that you were only able to purchase during this event. To say that this event was stressful was an understatement. Heck, even the app seemed like it wanted to prevent you from earning all the materials and exchanging them for the lines of text, the App crashing and freezing whenever there was the slightest inconvenience. It was also very different from what you were used to in this game. Usually it was always light content and a few sprinkles of Angst for entertainment but this time it was like someone took the game and decided to turn it into something that could only be described with “nightmare fuel if real”. With the usual content creators of the game being unusually quiet, if not to say absolutely silent, about it there were no guides to look up, no one seemingly caring to explore the new lore presented. Tapping the screen you finally accessed the voicelines, curious about what they had to say about the individual which was at the center of said event, the Overseer

What is your impression of the Overseer?

A kind yet cunning individual. The sea which wouldn't have been in awe of someone without any reason... Well, I can't deny that I myself am also very curious about them. Goodness, I even dare to say that I feel something akin to jealousy towards the two eels of the sea witch. Why that is? Well, even though these two were following her order they were at the end of the day still following the endless wisdom of the Overseer and whatever their genius plan was. Hah... what I would do to be in their position...

The view of your homeland, what is your opinion on that?

“Thankfully I can say that I am rather satisfied with how we view the Overseer. If we were to have mostly a religious view of them I doubt we would be able to have such a critical view like they do. A thing that is also quite known about them is their free mind. Whereas others were bound by traditions and morale they were able to think beyond those boundaries. It's said that exactly this made the sea witch create her garden. Alovely hobby, wouldn't you agree?”

What would you do if you were ever to meet them?

“I would immediately try to prove my worth to them. I am aware that this might sound rather off-putting to some but I can assure you that I am doing this purely out of admiration which they earned. Everything about them practically screams to be a good leader and schemes. There is nothing more I wish for than to help them with their contracts just as I do right now with Azul. But if there were some kind of annoyance trying to get between them and me... Hmmm... I am not sure if I were able to hold myself together....”

What is your impression of the Overseer?

“Oh, that is a question I did not expect... All I can say is that there is no being higher than them. Even the God of death, the Underworld bowed before them. From what I know the Fairy of Thorns always looked up to them during the war, orienting herself on their might like a sailor would on the stars. It is quite unbelievable but when we take into consideration that they are a God then this is much easier to understand. Sadly, there has not been any sign of them ever planning to descend or anything akin to that. My Grandmother even told me that even my own Grandchildren are not guaranteed of ever meeting them. What a pity...”

The view of your homeland, what is your opinion on that?

“Thankfully I am able to say that I am very proud of it. Many other places see the Overseer at least as a person of high importance, which is not even close to what they deserve, but we know that they are in truth the ruler above all, a God. Simply saying that their actions make them deserve respect is blasphemy. After all, a God is the owner of a world and they are our God. That alone tells us that they do not need to earn respect. They simply deserve it by existing. If anyone would ever dare to talk back go to them the Valley would gladly grind the opposing power to dust. There is nothing in this world more holy than them. Child of man, now that we are already on the subject, if you ever were to visit my home, would you like to attend a church mass with me? They always have something to themselves that makes you feel closer to them.”

What would you do if you ever met them?

“Child of man, as ironic as it may sound, but I am nothing more than a dutiful servant waiting for their masters call. To hope that I were ever to meet them is something I am unable to imagine even in my deepest dreams. But if it were to happen? Hmm... I can not say for certain but I think I would try to be as normal as possible to them. I myself am feared for my power so it might be somewhat soothing if they were to be viewed with eyes that express warm respect rather than fear. But I would never be able to forget that we all are nothing but small threats in their endless woven web. They have a plan, fate as some call it, for us all. We all can just be happy to feel their presence even the slightest bit in our lives.”

[gatitties]

Hey, just so you know I love what you did with the straw x male reader and I know this may be sudden but you think you can do a part 2 of it? And if you want, I can put in some of the details if you want? (Warning: This is too long) like let's say this theme is more so focused on reader's past and I will say that his backstory similar to movie sonic where his mother is actually a giant owl who had eaten a human human fruit and Is very knowledgeable with all kinda of devil fruits (She even has collections of them) but of course, like some tragic things that happened to some characters. Both reader and his mother were being raided by people who secretly worked for the world government and because of it, the mother owl had no choice but to sacrifice herself in order to let reader escape (Similar to Nico robin and what happened in Ohara) and in the end, their home got burned down and all reader could do is run away and hide. Anyways back to present, after hearing from an unknown caller that his mother was alive. He didn't believe it at first until there are just way too many evidences that his mother might be still alive after what happened and not only that but finding out how she's secretly working for the world government, it was just absurd to him. Is this the reason why they want him alive? He's not sure anymore. In the end, he decided that it would be best to never tell the crew about it and would just have to go out of his way on his own to find the location where his mother was at. And by the time, straw hats find out that they were too late and reader is already ahead of them. (Also of course, you're free to Refuse this request at any time but if you're still gonna do it then you can do it anytime K? No rush, and It's your decision to do so.)

─ Strawhats x male!reader (Platonic)

─ Summary: you discover things about your supposedly dead mother and the crew is willing to help you

─ Warnings: none

Part one / Part three

ahhh don't worry about asking for the second part suddenly, I'm glad you like my work, hope you like this <3

─ You were probably adopted (maybe not, but you never wanted to ask), your mother was a giant owl that ate the human-human fruit, but you don't care where you come from, you always loved your mother.

─ A little curious fact is that she is a collector of devil fruits, which caused you some problems because people are greedy with treasures like that, but the thing is that you got your powers because of that very collection.

─ You were just a child when you were snooping through her things and that devil fruit looked tasty, you were disappointed with the taste and on top of that your mother scolded you for that, but there was nothing that could reverse the effects.

─ Normally you had to change houses continuously, the government and some people wanted the devil fruits that your mother collected, as if that were not enough, they also wanted you as an experiment subject since your fruit was quite powerful or sought after.

─ And one day what you were fearing simply happened, the government found you, worst of all, your mother sacrificed herself for you to flee, you couldn't do anything and you began to hate the government more than before, they had taken a being loved without regrets.

─ After that you wandered aimlessly, many newspapers had the exclusive that they had caught the 'evil' thief of devil fruits and were going to make her pay for her sins, your whole world collapsed when a week later, word spread that she had died and they had put up a wanted poster only alive with your face.

─ Your life began to fall apart but luckily, before your intrusive thoughts could do anything, you met Luffy… well, Usopp in the first place, but the important thing was that the strawhats took you in after your life was gone overboard.

─ You started noticing some small clues about your mother inadvertently since Luffy declared war on the world government when they rescued Robin, since then you were much more involved with them.

─ Within you there was that little ray of hope, maybe they didn't kill your mother, maybe she is captive due to her knowledge about the devil fruits, that's why you began to investigate further, following small clues.

─ You kept all this hidden from the others because you thought it was something you had to solve on your own, although Robin was already suspicious about you, you always went to her when you needed more detailed information about the government.

─ "Why so curious now about this?" "For nothing in particular, I like to find out about the people I hate so I can hit them harder." It's not like it was a lie itself, you wanted to hit those bastard governors.

─ You had a small diary where you had everything collected in the last months, luckily they respected your private things, although they thought that all your secrecy was because you were young and you were embarrassed to share some things with them.

─ "Why do you always hide that book of yours when you see us, huh? Don't tell me, it's a diary and you write about your lover there!" "I-It's nothing like that Luffy!" Luffy would always try to tease you and play jokes on you however Sanji or Zoro would always stop him if he got too close to stealing your diary.

─ What made you jump into the attack was a call in which you interfered one night, a call that turned all your suspicions into solid facts, "Yes, my son is the consumer of that fruit, we could locate him if the rumors about that is next to the strawhats are true" "m-mom…?" Luckily they couldn't hear the disbelief in your voice as you heard your mother's clear voice.

─ You were extremely confused as to why she would be part of the government, deeply hurt by the fact that they were looking for you, and not especially to give you hugs.

─ Everyone on the ship noticed your change after you discovered that, you started to talk less to investigate more, you became more paranoid and you started to put a barrier between them and you, you didn't need to cause them more problems than they already had.

─ But your plan to do everything on your own went awry, you tried to deal with some undercover guys who worked for the government on an island, you were seriously injured, if it wasn't because Usopp found your diary and decided to browse a bit ( because this guy couldn't contain himself and thought one look wouldn't hurt anyone) you'd probably be dead by now.

─ While Chopper treated you in a fit of stress, the others looked at your wounded body with a frown, most of them angry for not being able to arrive earlier, Luffy angry with you for not having told him anything.

─ When you recovered he scolded you because you didn't trust them to help you, "Idiot, we are here for you! You are my nakama and I would do anything for you." "I'm sorry…"

─ You apologized to everyone for being so reckless and going alone to a fight you couldn't win, they forgave you and just like Luffy, each one showed in their own way that you didn't need to have that fight by yourself, if you needed their support, there they going to be, even if they had to fight against your own mother, they would not abandon you.

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 22)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,985

Summary: As Horacio's and Javier's stay in Manizales comes to an end, Elena has some words of wisdom and an unexpected offer for their future.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, religious themes, brief non-explicit sexual references, smoking, swearing.

Notes: As promised, here's the second half of their Manizales adventures. I'm still wrestling with editing chapter 23 at the moment, plus life has been kind of busy/stressful lately, so not sure when it will be ready to post. But the finish line is definitely within touching distance now ❤️

Thank you once again to anyone still reading/commenting/making moodboards and playlists or drawing, I'm blown away when my fic inspires others to create. I'll be making a proper masterlist once the fic is finished, where I'll link to everything people have made or have suggested playlist songs etc., plus there'll be my own playlist and moodboards.

Feel free to drop me a comment, whether it's about the new chapter or an older one, I'm always happy to chat 😊

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 22: Past, Present, Future

The early morning mist transformed into drizzle in the time it took Horacio to run around the farm boundaries, the spray cooling his clammy skin as he worked up a sweat. He left Javier to wake and shower at his own leisurely pace, a routine they had settled into since arriving here. Although two mornings ago, both Javier and Alejandra were suspiciously worse-for-wear, and Horacio didn’t see much of either of them until after lunch.

Today, they planned to join one of Fabián’s tours, which included a coffee-tasting session. So, even if the exercise hadn’t woken Horacio up, the caffeine certainly would.

The rain eased off once back at the finca, sunrays now straining to break through the low clouds as Horacio showered and dressed, somehow still beating Javier.

Tempting aromas from the kitchen let Horacio know his Mamá was already up and about after making the children breakfast before Alejandra dropped them off at school.

As he sat down at the kitchen table and poured himself a glass of orange juice – his usual coffee would wait for later – both cats, Caturra and Bourbon, took turns rubbing themselves against his legs.

“You and Alejandra loved that stray cat when you were young,” said Elena, who had appeared from the larder with her arms full of eggs, chorizo and arepas. “What was her name?”

“Estrella.”

“She was the next best thing to a jaguar, and you were desperate to see one back then.”

“I remember. Never did, though.”

“Not many get the privilege these days.”

“Can’t say I blame them for keeping out of sight.”

Horacio remembered his Abuela Margarita telling him stories of how the jaguar, snake and condor were the original creators of the world and how the jaguar was tricked by man into parting with its power of fire. The feline creature was forced to survive on its cunning and strength alone, prowling around the mountains and jungles of Colombia, waiting patiently to exact revenge.

For too long, Horacio had stalked, clawed and mauled his prey all over Medellín, seeking vengeance on those who betrayed his country and its people. He was an apex predator maintaining balance and order in the food chain, not out of choice but necessity. A reluctant warrior backed into a corner until a palpable sense of duty kicked in when the threat was too real to ignore.

But whatever the unseen truth was, jaguars gained a reputation as ferocious killers, feared by humans until they became the hunted rather than the hunter, gunned down and chased into hiding and a life of solitude. An act of cowardice by the jaguar on the face of it, but these days, Horacio liked to think of it as an evolutionary advantage, the opposite side of the fight-or-flight coin.

“It’s understandable, yes. But a life in the shadows has its drawbacks.”

“True. But there can be a certain kind of freedom in the dark. Especially when those with flares want you dead.”

“Not everyone offering light wants that, Mijo.”

Horacio, who had focused on the floor for most of the conversation, finally looked up, hazel eyes mirrored back at him with extra shades of wisdom. His dour expression softened, and his shoulders sagged in concession. “I know.”

“Whilst I’ve got you here…” Elena trailed off, disappearing upstairs before returning with a small wooden trinket box.

She sat down at the table and extracted a gold chain from the box. “He’d want you to have it.”

Horacio stared at the pendants that swung back and forth like a pendulum clock as Elena held them out towards him. His cheeks hollowed, and his lips formed a sharp pout from how tightly he held his jaw in place. “Mamá, I can’t. Not after everything. Not after I ran away.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After I was injured, I went into hiding...in Laredo, Texas. And I quit.” He grasped his hands together and bowed his head as though in prayer, but he wasn’t sure even God could help him now he had confessed his sins. “I’m sorry I kept it from you. And I know you’re probably wondering why I went –”

“Javier.”

Horacio froze, undecided if he was caught off guard by the mention of Javier’s name or how he could hear his Mamá’s smile as she said it, as though it was the most glaringly obvious response anyone could ever have given.

“It’s okay, Mijo. You don’t have to explain yourself. He told me about the ranch whilst you and Alejandra cleaned up on your first night here.”

“That’s how you knew?”

“Well, not only that. I might be older these days, but I’m not blind.”

Elena chuckled, but Horacio could tell it wasn’t at his expense. So, he allowed his jaw some leeway, unclenching his teeth and facial muscles, almost appreciating the ache left behind. A chain reaction surged through his body, tension unknowingly carried for decades ebbing away now the secret he once believed would follow him to his grave was not only out but wasn’t being held against him.

And so he threw caution to the wind and let the floodgates open. He told his Mamá about Madrid and working on the ranch, about their plans for the future, about life in Laredo and even the crucifix, just in case she had noticed its absence and assumed the worst.

Talk of the crucifix prompted Elena to take one of Horacio’s hands in hers, where she deposited her gift of gold before he could refuse. “Take it. Please.” Her hand formed a dome over Horacio’s, fingers gently squeezing.

Once Elena withdrew, Horacio unfurled his palm and stared down at his very own El Dorado. “After my injury, I’d dream about this sometimes. And the stories you and Abuelita Mirabel told us about Bochica. I wish it’d been as easy as striking a staff to stop Escobar.”

“Bochica might have saved his people from drowning, but he couldn’t save them from the conquistadors and their gold-digging.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know you don’t approve of Madrid, Mamá. And I know I’m no Bolívar, but –”

“Mijo, what are you talking about? I know you had your reasons for Madrid – even the second time. That’s not what I meant. And no one’s asking you to be Bolívar.”

A salient monument dedicated to Simón Bolívar stood in the centre of Manizales. The statue was half-man, half-condor, each entity synonymous with the other as national symbols of freedom and sovereignty. It still stung for Horacio to be reminded he had worn the Colombian coat of arms on his uniform sleeve every day, the proud condor flying above the motto Libertad y Orden (Freedom and Order) with Dios y Patria (God and Country) sworn beneath. But unlike Bolívar and Bochica, Horacio was unable to liberate his people.

Instead, he had sought refuge in two countries that had interfered the most with Colombia's autonomy. He had made a home on the land of the former Empire and used the gringos to his advantage when it suited him, never mind allowing one of them into his heart and bed.

Elena pressed her hand tenderly to Horacio’s cheek, the conflict in his mind apparently written all over his face. It was an action he had been on the receiving end of throughout childhood, but one that still had the power to soothe him as though no time had passed since.

“You’re also forgetting Chibchacum’s role in Bochica’s story,” she continued. “He was the one punished to carry the world on his back for creating the flood in the first place. Bochica did the best he could in terrible circumstances, and that’s all anyone could ask for.”

Memories re-surfaced of Abuelita Mirabel sitting between Horacio and Alejandra on the sofa, a blanket spread across the three of them, where she told of how every time there was an earthquake in Colombia, it was the weight of the world shifting on Chibchacum’s back. Little did Horacio know that would become a feeling he was all too familiar with when he was older.

But his Mamá was right; he wasn’t Chibchacum or Bochica. And he certainly wasn't Bolívar. But neither was his Papá.

So, he took a deep breath and raised the chain to unclip the fastening. From there, he attached it behind his neck, letting the deity and the angel finally rest against his skin.

“Beautiful,” Elena said, her eyes suddenly glossy and the corner of her lips twitching.

“Thank you.” Horacio held his Mamá’s gaze until it was necessary to look away and clear his throat. “What else is in there, anyway?” He swiftly motioned towards the box.

Elena passed it over to Horacio so he could look for himself. Nestled inside were his Papá’s wedding ring and lapel pins, his Abuelo Ignacio’s St. Michael’s cross, rosary beads, an old pack of Deportivo Independiente Medellín trading cards, a postcard of an orange grove with handwriting Horacio recognised as his Mamá’s on the back, and a black and white photograph of a young boy draped in a police jacket that was far too big for him. Behind him stood his father in the rest of the uniform the jacket belonged to.

“Is that Papá and Abuelo Ignacio?”

Elena laughed. “Of course!” She got up again without explanation, re-appearing with a photo album this time.

She flicked through it until she found what she was looking for. “Where do you think we got the idea for this from?”

She was pointing at an almost identical picture. The two boys in the photos had the same thick dark hair and charcoal eyes, a resemblance that would carry through into adulthood – although Horacio built up more muscle than his father ever did.

Horacio smiled. “I remember that being taken. It was my first day at school.”

“It was his idea before you set off for school, and he set off for work. He made sure I was ready with the camera when you came downstairs in your uniform.”

“I never knew it was his idea.” The dejection was evident in Horacio’s voice, even if he tried to hide it.

“He might not have said it much, but he was so proud of you, you know. And so am I.”

Horacio swallowed hard with his eyes shut, anything to hold himself together. “I used to take this when you weren’t looking,” he managed to get out, gesturing towards the photo album. “Same with some of the other old albums we had. Well, I kept a couple of them, actually.” He chuckled at the thought of the albums currently residing on a shelf in Madrid. “I always went back to the photos and his uniform for some reason.”

“You didn’t have to hide it from me.”

“Neither did you with us.”

“I know. But you were both so young. You didn’t need that burden on top of everything else.”

“You could never be a burden, Mamá.”

“You and Alejandra were busy forging your careers. I had to stay strong at work, helping people worse off than me. So, I saved most of it for my prayers and Día de Todos los Santos.”

Horacio remembered attending Mass and his Papá’s grave every Día de Todos los Santos. But it was different to Día de Muertos. They weren’t welcoming his Papá home; they were praying for those in purgatory and heaven. And as much as he liked to think his Papá was a saint, there was always a part of him terrified that if he didn’t pray hard enough, his Papá would never be cleansed of his sins.

“I was in Laredo for Día de Muertos. Javier’s father – Chucho – had a box like this for Javier’s mother – Mariana. He used it to make an ofrenda for her.”

Another piece of the puzzle seemed to click into place for Elena in a look that combined realisation with sympathy. Another loss, another parallel, another explanation.

“A beautiful tradition,” she concluded.

“Yeah, it is. One that remembers the people we’ve lost as we knew them and welcomes them back home.”

“A bit like this, you mean?”

“Something like that.”

“Whilst we’re here…there’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Go on.”

“Money from the house sale in Medellín has been sitting in a bank account since I moved here, along with some left over from your Papá. The plan was to split it between you and Alejandra when I’m gone, but…why wait?”

“What? But Mamá, that’s your money.”

“Technically, half of it is your Papá’s. But he’s not here. And who better to put that money to good use than his children?”

“Even though I wouldn’t have children of my own to return the favour one day?”

It was a question that had lingered on the tip of Horacio’s tongue since arriving here. A question he had tried to ignore for a long time before that, if he was honest. He learned of Juliana’s first pregnancy from his Mamá, who had heard the news from a friend of a friend. That was all she said on the matter, but Horacio was never sure whether he imagined the traces of disappointment in her voice that it wasn’t his child.

“Horacio, do you really think that matters to me?”

There was no disappointment in Elena’s tone now, just incredulous confusion that made Horacio regret his words.

“Even if I wasn’t surrounded by my amorcitos every single day, I would want you and Alejandra to make your own choices. Live your own lives. If that doesn’t involve children for you, then so be it.”

Horacio nodded, his lungs expelling a freeing breath he hadn't been aware was trapped in the depths of his rib cage. “Have you spoken to Alejandra about the money?”

“Not yet. But I know the farm needs repairs, and they’ve always got plans for this place. Same as the ranch.”

“I don’t own the ranch, though, Mamá.”

“No. But from everything you’ve told me about Chucho, he obviously trusts you with his business. And I don’t imagine you and Javier will want to live in a guesthouse for the rest of your lives. Visas don’t come cheap, either.”

Of course, she was right on all three counts. Horacio had a lot of on-the-job training ahead of him. He would effectively be starting from scratch again. But Chucho had welcomed him with open arms into his home and livelihood. It wasn’t implausible that if Horacio had ideas for the ranch, Chucho would take them on board.

They hadn't discussed living arrangements yet, but Horacio was confident neither he nor Javier had envisaged the guesthouse as a permanent solution. And then there was the small matter of Horacio’s visa. The paperwork upon which their future in Laredo hinged. He tried not to think about all the different ways it could go wrong or what they would do if it did. But that was a problem for another day. A problem that would no doubt be made easier with extra money in tow.

So, he ignored the whispering ghosts of his ancestors because his Mamá was right; he wasn’t doing this for his Papá. And he certainly wasn’t doing it for the people of Colombia, past or present.

“Okay,” he said in the end. “But only if Alejandra agrees to it, too.”

The sound of a throat being cleared caught them off guard and drew a temporary line under the conversation.

“Morning,” Javier greeted as he hovered by the kitchen door. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” Of course, he knew he was and an apology with his eyes was all he could offer Horacio for the time being.

“Good morning, Javier. And on the contrary! How do you feel about calentado?”

Whatever Javier had been expecting Elena’s response to be, for some reason, it wasn’t that. He looked towards Horacio for the slightest hint about what he had walked in on.

Horacio wanted to explain everything – and later he would – but for now, he ushered Javier to sit down.

“Er, sounds perfect, thanks,” Javier told Elena as his foot found Horacio’s under the table.

And as the three of them chatted and helped prepare breakfast, Horacio had to admit Javier was right.

------------------------------------------------------

The coffee tour took up the rest of the morning. It was no wonder Horacio had always been particular on the subject when he knew which were the best beans and blends to be found in Colombia. He still had occasional pangs for his former life, but the weak instant shit the gringos brought with them to Carlos Holguín wasn’t one of them.

Naturally, the heavens opened before the end of the tour – bad for the tourists but good for the soil – and by the time they had returned to the finca, another shower was required.

They showered together, the finca empty for a change. Plus, they had nothing to hide anymore – at least not with the people that mattered the most. That hadn’t quite sunk in for Horacio even after he told Javier everything. Even when his last defences buckled, and he broke down in Javier's arms, letting himself be held. Even when he was kissing Javier, slow and deep, in his family’s bathroom, their breaths heavy and desperate in such a confined space.

One thing could easily have led to another as Horacio pinned Javier against the cold tiles, bare skin seeking out bare skin, emotions running high. There was no doubt they wanted it to, and in almost any other circumstance, it would have.

“Not here,” Horacio whispered, his voice shaking and his forehead falling against Javier’s as he was hit by a sudden clarity of thought. “I’m sorry.”

Javier hushed lightly, cradling Horacio against his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.” He kissed across damp hair, running his fingers through thick strands that always became curlier when wet. “We don’t have to do anything.”

Light strokes soon morphed into lathered hands as Javier washed and rinsed Horacio’s hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp and soothing away stubborn remnants of tension.

Although a niggling knot remained, an unspoken question and an uninitiated conversation. “When I was talking with my mother earlier…” Horacio began, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to let the hot jets cascade down his neck and shoulders.

Javier hummed in encouragement, his lips following the water droplets, enveloping Horacio in a blanket of warmth from all angles.

“She reassured me she wouldn’t be disappointed if I never had children.” Horacio let his words hang in the white noise of the shower, giving Javier time to adjust to the change of subject.

“Did you think she would be?”

“It crossed my mind. So much has been passed down through the Carrillo side of my family. From my Abuelo to my Papá. From my Papá to me.”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but four of your nieces and nephews are around here somewhere.”

Horacio let out a light huff. “Like I could forget. But…they’re Alejandra’s, not mine.”

“I know. But I think you’re forgetting the real question here. Would you be disappointed?”

“Back when I was younger, when I was with Juliana, I might’ve said yes. More out of expectation than anything else. But with you…I think we ripped up and threw away the rule book a long time ago.”

“Thank fuck for that. We’ve never been very good at following rules anyway.”

It didn't take long for them both to laugh at such a flagrant understatement.

“So, you do feel the same then?” Horacio asked in earnest.

“I was less than an hour away from getting my very own white fucking picket fence. If I’d wanted it, I could’ve had it. But that wasn’t my idea of the American Dream.”

Horacio turned in Javier’s arms, and the last seed of doubt was finally plucked from his mind. His lips captured Javier’s again, a statement of intent for their future. A future they no longer had to hide from their families. 

------------------------------------------------------

Javier seated himself in the large wooden gazebo at the end of the garden, which doubled as a viewing platform over the steep valley below. For once, sunlight had won the battle against the mist, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. It made it possible to see for miles, giving the illusion of being high amongst the surrounding trees alongside the raucous birdlife living in their branches.

It was their penultimate morning in Manizales, upon which Javier had changed a habit of a lifetime by getting up with Horacio. They had penned in some sightseeing of the city later. But for now, Horacio had gone for his usual run, and Javier started the day with possibly the best coffee he had ever drunk.

“May I join you?”

Javier looked up from his cup and cleared his throat. “Oh, er, of course.”

As Elena sat down, the sun glinted off the silver jewellery bonded to Javier’s chest, making them squint at its reflection. He instinctively brought a hand to his neck in a fumbled effort to shove the crucifix beneath the open collar of his shirt.

“You don’t need to do that, you know.”

Fuck. He'd been busted.

However, Elena's voice contained no traces of judgment, and it quickly put Javier at ease. He lowered his hand to his knee, giving a brief bob of the head before taking another sip of coffee.

“I still wear these.” Elena raised her left hand, showing off a sparkling diamond ring above a plain gold band. “The amount of awkward questions about the whereabouts of my husband these have caused over the years. Yet I still can’t bring myself to take them off. Although…”

With her right hand, she took hold of the top ring and wiggled it off her finger, then did the same with the second ring, with more force required this time.

Javier wasn’t sure what was happening until the dappled morning light fell on the inside of the ring he held up to his face.

Suerte que encontré a mi media naranja

(Lucky that I found my soulmate)

“It’s beautiful.”

“Eduardo wasn’t a man of many words, but he had his moments.” Elena’s smile took on a wistful appearance as Javier passed the ring back.

“My Pops is the same with his wedding ring. He insists on wearing it every day, which isn’t really compatible with the day job.”

“I can imagine. I hear it became Horacio’s day job, too?”

“Yeah,” Javier said with an involuntary grin. “I know it might be hard to believe, and I know it’s not what he expected, but it suits him.” Literally as well figuratively, he managed to stop himself from blurting out.

“I can’t remember him ever saying he wanted to be anything other than a police officer. My parents ran a textile business, and Eduardo’s mother was a nurse. But Horacio followed his father, who followed his father like it was their birthright. I always worried about Eduardo, especially if he was running late or was called to an emergency. Then it was the same with Horacio, too. So much blood spilt on our doorsteps, on our streets, in our churches.”

Elena promptly picked up her cup, the balm of hot fruit tea required before she could continue.

“Whenever the phone rang – or I heard a knock at the door – I prepared for the worst. It happened to so many friends and neighbours. So why not my husband or son? Of course, it was Eduardo’s heart in the end. But once Search Bloc made Horacio a walking target, it was only a matter of time. I’d spent years expecting it, but what I hadn’t accounted for in all of my fretting, pacing, and prayers…was you.”

“Me?”

“He told me what you did. How much trouble you and your partner got in for it. How you got injured yourself. How…you saved my son and his men.”

“We couldn’t save them all,” was Javier’s sole response to the lashings of praise he still wasn’t convinced he truly deserved in light of how the ambush came about in the first place.

“You saved more than your superiors were willing to, by the sounds of it.”

Javier scoffed. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

“Good. And as for the ranch…he’s always liked to keep busy. Just like his father, he could never sit still and relax for long. I can see it. I bet he looks the part.”

“He does, actually.” That was allowed, Javier told himself.

“I thought something had changed after his injury, even if he wouldn’t tell us much. I hoped he’d seen sense, but I knew he was prepared to die for that mission of his – that obsession. I’d almost accepted it, to be honest, especially without Eduardo around to stop him. So, when he told me he’d quit, you were the only reason that made sense.”

“Ever since my Mamá passed, I tried to change things – or control them, at least. Anything to not feel that…helpless again. But it didn’t work like that. Walking away was the only choice left.”

“But it was a choice you both made. That can’t have been easy. I may not have known you very long, but it’s already clear to me you’re good for each other.”

“Even though I’m a gringo?”

“We all have our flaws.” Not only did Elena catch the humour in Javier’s eyes, but she matched and surpassed it with her own. “But to answer your question properly…I would say the complicated histories of our homelands have more in common than meets the eye.”

Javier hummed as he had flashbacks to high school of learning about Laredo starting life as a Spanish colonial settlement before a bloody tug-of-war between Mexico and America – and independence from both – had broken out. There was no denying he had benefited from certain privileges of owning an American passport, and he’d always accepted the gringo label without much pushback. But deep down, he knew it was only half the story.

“You’ve shown each other new paths,” Elena continued. “Safer and happier ones. And that’s what counts.”

“Not quite sure what my new path is yet, to be honest. I’ve spent so long running away from Laredo. I’ve forgotten what it means to live there.”

“It took me a long time to accept my place was here now rather than Medellín. Whenever there was a bombing, or a shooting, or a kidnapping, I had to stop myself from getting on a plane. But Horacio worried I’d be a target because of him. He didn’t want me there. And what could I have done anyway?” Elena let out a self-deprecating huff at the mere thought.

“You wanted to protect your son.”

“Yes. But it wasn’t just that. Medellín was my home and my work. And many of Eduardo’s friends and colleagues were killed. Their wives were sisters to me after his death. But I couldn’t return the favour from down here. Not in the same way, at least. I sent cards, flowers, food parcels, even money sometimes. But it never felt enough.”

“It never does.”

“No. It doesn’t. But I did what I could. And being there for Alejandra and the kids made me feel useful. I got involved with the church again. Worked for a small charity. Even though we’ve been protected from the violence here, the repercussions of it spread far and wide. So many displaced families in need. At least I was making a difference somewhere.”

“I thought I was making a difference. And maybe sometimes I was. But I don’t think it was ever really my fight.”

“Perhaps not. But maybe it helped lead you to the right one.”

“Maybe.”

Javier’s mind drifted back to the family history his Pops told him over the phone in Madrid, not just about his Mamá but his grandparents too. Not to mention all his Pops had done for the local community over the years. He thought of the stories Señora Romero had shared and the kindness she had shown him and Horacio. They had all made a difference in their own ways. And they had done it without leaving their cities, let alone their countries.

As Elena excused herself to ensure Mateo and Sofía weren’t starting another civil war in the kitchen, Javier nursed his coffee cup and surveyed the meandering scenery below. For the first time since he told Stechner to go fuck himself, he could see the outline of a path emerging in front of him. He wasn’t exactly sure where it was leading yet, but at least it was something. Something closer to home.

------------------------------------------------------

Their last day in Manizales came faster than Horacio had expected, presumably a side effect of waiting for the other shoe to drop any minute. Miraculously, it never did.

“Knock knock.”

Horacio looked up from the bed where he was wrestling with the zip of his suitcase – and currently losing. “Morning.” Another tug, but it wouldn’t shift. “You just gonna watch me?”

“Because you’re usually so good at accepting help.” With a dry smile and shake of the head, Alejandra came to the rescue with less heavy-handedness than her brother, unjamming the zip in seconds.

“I’m better than I was.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“And thank you, by the way.” Horacio stood up, lifting the case from the bed and bringing himself face-to-face with his sister. “For everything.”

Alejandra nodded, maintaining eye contact with Horacio long enough to be distracted by the sunlight dancing across the gold chain around his neck. “It suits you.”

“Thanks. Better than it collecting dust in a box.”

“I don’t just mean the necklace.”

The subtle glow of Horacio's pupils mirrored Alejandra's before he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Take care of yourself, okay?” He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head.

“You too. And don’t leave it so long next time.”

“We won’t. I promise.”

“If it helps, I can sweeten the deal with a stay at one of the hot springs around here. They’re always giving me freebies for supplying their coffee. One of them has private thermal pools and everything.”

“You don’t have to bribe me to visit.” However, the thought of it being him, Javier, and a jacuzzi was enough for him to re-think his position on taking bribes. “Plus, I wanna see what you do with the place.”

“So you can take inspiration?”

Horacio rolled his eyes. “You wish. If you think you can handle the Texan climate, you know where we’ll be.”

“Don’t worry, I can and I will.”

“We about ready?” Javier appeared in the doorway with the rest of their luggage, pausing at the threshold. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Again.

“It’s okay; your boyfriend was just inviting us all to the ranch.”

It had only been an innocuous comment, but Alejandra managed to stop both men in their tracks with one word, a bashful look passing between them at the novelty of it.

“Oh, er, that’s great. The more the merrier.” Javier recovered just in time, although the flush in his cheeks showed no sign of abating. “My Pops always makes enough food for the population of Texas, so you’d be more than welcome.”

“Likewise here, Javier. As long as you bring more aguardiente next time.” She winked and drew him in for a hug.

“I think that can be arranged.” Javier broke away first so he could look at Alejandra properly. “And thank you…for everything this week.”

Alejandra gave a bob of the head once more, her smile widening as she glanced from Javier to Horacio, the depth of their gratitude beyond words but written all over their faces. “It’s what big sisters are for.”

------------------------------------------------------

After eating enough breakfast to last them for most of their journey to Medellín – the rest supplemented by Elena’s homemade empanadas and cocadas – they were stood back on the front porch again.

There was a chorus of goodbyes this time, ones that didn’t have the foreboding air of finality about them as they had done in the past.

Horacio allowed his Mamá to clutch him with all her strength, the scent of her perfume transporting him straight back to childhood.

“You take care of each other, you hear? And keep me updated on your visa. You know where I am if you need anything.”

“Don’t worry, Mamá. I will.”

“Y no olvide su español.” (And don’t forget your Spanish)

“No lo haré, Mamá.” (I won’t, Mamá) Horacio barely managed to suppress a tone of amused exasperation, given that he had been surrounded by almost as many Spanish voices in Laredo as in Colombia.

“Javier, you heard all of that. So, don’t let him forget.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Javier received the same treatment as Horacio with a bracing hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mijo. And don’t fret about finding that path. Just remember to follow your heart.” 

------------------------------------------------------

The light was fading fast, leaving behind a watercolour blend of ambers, yellows and reds that blazed against a backdrop of purple haze and the ethereal silhouette of ancient mountains. The glimmer of city life below felt distant, as though they had left this world altogether and now lived above the clouds.

Which was fine by them as they caught their breath; Horacio draped over Javier’s lap in the passenger’s seat, the culmination of their release glistening across their stomachs.

“Just like old times,” Horacio panted as trails of kisses became interspersed with heady laughter.

“Well, not exactly.” Javier’s thumb and forefinger delicately held the silver and gold pendants at their chests before untangling the chains that had become knotted during their tryst.

“No.” Horacio brought his forehead to meet Javier’s, an instant tonic to the painful twinge gripping their hearts as memories of their last visit to this spot resurfaced. “I told you we’d make up for lost time this past week, though.”

“Yeah, I figured you meant in the hotel. Or even back in Madrid. Not the minute you parked up in Medellín.”

“Like you were complaining.”

“Fuck, no, I wasn’t. Less likely to be overheard up here than in the hotel anyway.”

Once Horacio had regained enough feeling in his limbs to dismount and sit back in the driver’s seat, Javier reached for the glove box. He took out their emergency stash of cigarettes and lit up.

Horacio attempted to clean himself up as best he could and did the same for Javier. “So, this is why you brought those with us.” He nodded towards the cigarettes.

“Obviously.” Javier took a long drag and exhaled with a deep sigh, his body latching on quickly to the nicotine, his mind still blitzed.

They passed their shared smoke back and forth in comfortable silence, basking in their afterglows and the aftermath of the last few days.

“You still like it up here then?” Horacio asked after stubbing out the butt in the ashtray between them.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t think I’ve ever seen it looking so beautiful.”

“Me neither. Funny how the same view can look completely different in a new light.”

Javier hummed in agreement, their gaze now fixed on each other rather than the windshield, the irony not lost that they were back in the same spot where it could easily all have ended.

"I can think of a way to make it even better, though.”

“Go on.”

In a flurry of movement, Javier zipped up his jeans, pulled on his shirt and got out of the car. He rustled around in the trunk until he retrieved a couple of spare towels they had packed for emergencies, along with their jackets. It wasn’t quite the thick blanket from the ranch, but at least it was a mild night.

They sprawled out on the grass behind the car, lying atop the towels and wrapped in their jackets. Javier propped his head on a folded sweater with Horacio resting against his chest at an angle that allowed them both to take in the cityscape below.

“How about we just stay here forever?” Javier rasped between slow, sensual kisses.

Horacio moaned against Javier’s lips as he went back for more. “Don’t tempt me. At least we didn’t book an early flight tomorrow.”

“Good point.” Another string of kisses, each more addictive than the last.

“Although,” Horacio began once they had calmed down, his fingers tracing patterns across Javier’s torso, "we’ve got a lot to sort out once we’re back in Madrid.”

“I know. But at least we ripped off the band-aid.” One of Javier’s hands found Horacio’s and slotted their fingers together.

“I spent so much energy worrying about this trip; I was almost expecting something bad to happen.”

Javier raised their linked hands to his mouth and brushed his lips over Horacio’s knuckles. “But it didn’t.”

“No. In fact…I think I know what I want to do with the money.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If you and your father agree to it, that is. And I can find a good lawyer.”

Javier lifted his head slightly and turned in Horacio's direction, urging him to continue.

“I was thinking….what if we bought the corn farm? The three of us, I mean.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah. I think I am.” Horacio couldn’t help but laugh now he’d said it out loud. “Like I said, I’d need to check everything with a lawyer about my visa first. But there is an option for investors. And you still have some of your money from the ranch, right?”

“Yeah, I do. And obviously, you can count me in. But…shit, Horacio. Are you sure? I mean, it’s your inheritance.”

“It's nothing Alejandra isn't doing with her share. And well, if your father bought it outright, an empty cottage would go to waste on our doorstep. Last I looked, it needed a bit of maintenance, but it wasn’t in bad shape.”

Now, it was Javier’s turn to laugh. “Got it all figured out, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s funny, ‘cos, er...I’ve been thinking, too. About something your Mamá said.”

“About what?”

“About looking closer to home for a new path. And I think I might have found it.”

------------------------------------------------------

They only meant to stay until they got too cold, but their shared body heat let them doze until sunrise. The watercolour skyline re-emerged from behind the mountain tops, gradually bathing Medellín in a heavenly half-light, stirring them awake as it reached their hideaway.

The plan was to freshen up and have breakfast at the hotel before dropping off the hire car and heading to the airport after lunch. But there was something Horacio needed to do whilst the city wasn’t fully awake, whilst the low sun felt like a gift from God Himself.

As they pulled up a stone’s throw away from Horacio’s old family church – a few blocks down from his childhood home and former apartment that Trujillo had cleared after his hasty exit from Carlos Holguín – Javier hesitated, unsure if this was something Horacio needed to do alone.

“Come with me,” Horacio said after stepping out of the car as though he had read Javier’s mind. “Please.”

That was all the confirmation Javier needed to follow.

They walked silently along a well-kept pathway that forked off in multiple directions. It was maze-like and disorientating, but Horacio took purposeful strides despite how long it had been since his last visit.

He halted at a large marble slate engraved with a crucifix and the CNP emblem. There were some dried old flowers in a vase at the base of it, where Horacio knelt down and swapped them for the fresh bunch of marigolds he’d carried from the car.

“A gift from Mamá,” he whispered. “She’ll be back again soon.”

Horacio remained on the grass and brought his hands up to the back of his neck, where he unhooked the gold chain. He studied it between his fingers, then clasped it in his palm and bowed his head.

The cemetery was empty at this time in the morning, the loud rustling in the trees drowning out the murmur of traffic beginning to burst into life.

Javier watched wordlessly a few feet behind Horacio, almost beginning to feel like he was intruding.

“Pray with me.”

“Are you sure? What if someone –”

“I’m sure. No one’s here but us.”

Javier checked around them once, then twice, just in case. Even if someone did happen to come by, two men praying over a grave wasn’t exactly the most compromising position they could be found in. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once satisfied, Javier joined Horacio on the grass. They couldn’t get away with how they had done this in private, but Horacio dropped his right hand to the floor beside him, palm outstretched.

Javier took the hint and discreetly placed his left hand over the top, encasing the gold necklace between them.

With heads lowered and eyes closed, they prayed. An unspoken acknowledgement of all they had lost and how it had led them here. They honoured memories made, those that would never be, and those they could still make together despite everything.

Horacio’s eyes fluttered open as the sunlight fell on the headstone above him, forcing him to blink away a glassy sheen. His hand stayed connected with Javier’s on the earth, his present and future by his side, giving him strength to finally make peace with his past.

He rose to his feet and made the sign of the cross on his chest before running his fingers along the embossed letters of his father’s name. “Te quiero mucho, Papá.”

Javier gave as much time as was needed until risking a gentle squeeze of Horacio’s shoulder. “You ready?”

Horacio looked from the gravestone to Javier, the charcoal of his irises burning with the fire of conviction. “I’m ready.”

[flamerunn3r]

Ok making this as a new post bc I adjusted a couple of minor things on these. In the order I drew them in, heres the great p5u au design post finalized after working on these on and off for like 5 months

This is my own personal interpretations but is also somewhat speculative in nature. I'm mostly trying to use already established characterizations and arena epilogue set ups as a branching off point but there might be stuff I've missed or forgotten (i also haven't played dancing yet sorry if there's something in there I hadn't accounted for). This is kind of like if I took the creative reigns on the story where I'd continue with it. Only the investigation team for now but maybe I'll do the shadow ops at some point.

Yu Narukami

He's currently either attending school as a journalism student in the city or just starting out as one. Enthusiastic about his field but still tries to find the time to keep up with his friends and visit Inaba when he's free. I felt journalism made alot of sense for him with the themes of persona 4. I liked the sport jacket and turtleneck but wanted something different so the scarf was chosen to keep the same kind of silhouette. I made the collar on the winter coat large and I feel like Narukami's large uniform collar is a key part of his design. and I wanted to call back to that in his casual outfit. The summer outfit I kept close to his summer outfit from p4. I mostly wanted to keep his outfits smart and simple. For his meta verse outfit I really wanted to go all out with the bancho (kingpin) stuff and other delinquent tropes. I lengthened the uniform coat a little because I wanted it to look like a tokko-fuku. Alot of smaller detail inspiration was taken from Izanagi. The lenses in the mask are supposed to mimic glasses. I'd imagine he'd take off the mask the same way he throws off his glasses at the end of P4.

Teddie

I can't imagine him leaving Inaba and the TV world behind. Still staying in Inaba and working largely the same job. He's got his own place now albeit small (still a step up from the closet though). At some point the IT asked Mitsuru to pull some strings so he actually has a legal personhood now. The animal hoodie is something that came to me spontaneously but I knew I needed to include it. I really that his normal outfit in 4 keeps the white and red of the bear costume in the outfit so I tried to keep the colour scheme here too. Most of his later outfits are less flashy and more casual so I tried to continue that trend. I didn't want to lose the rose from the corsage completely so I included a rose pattern in the second shirt. Alot of his outfits feature light blue so I wanted to feature that. (I considered making the hoodie light blue initially) I don't think he'd have a metaverse outfit he'd just use the bear costume.

Naoto Shirogane

I'm under the assumption Naoto is still presenting masculinely to the general public as of p5 but I may be mistaken. (If I'm wrong I'd still probably largely keep the outfits largely similar to this.) Naoto's still working as a detective and I don't think that's ever really going to change. One thing that a hypothetical p5u would have to address is what Naoto and the shadow ops would have been doing during the events of persona 5 but I haven't worked that out yet

I feel alot of the appeal of Naoto's design is the kind of boy detective fashion. I went at this design with the intention of kind of refining that into something a little more adult while still keeping in a similar vein. I did have to ditch the pageboy hat unfortunately as I felt it made them look too young. These outfits were kind of designed as pseudo work clothes which is why I tried to make them a bit more formal. Something I consider notable about Naoto's design that I deliberately avoided here was the rolled up pant legs. It's very obvious in 4 it's done because Naoto is short but I feel like Naoto would start getting that either custom made or tailored to fit. I was initially going to forgo the blazer on the summer outfit but the design felt empty without it. Naoto having a noir detective themed metaverse outfit is an idea I'd had for years but I tried to incorporate design elements that were princely. I alot of the inspiration was from Sam Spade specifically. Deliberately made similarities to Akechi's white crow design. The band around the hat is supposed to invoke the similar one on the old page boy hat.

Yukiko Amagi

Still working at her families in but is taking online schooling during the less busy seasons. She's mostly happy where she is but is keeping her options open. Occasionally makes visits to other ryokans out of town for ideas for her families own inn, as well as an opportunity to for her to sight-see.

The headband was included in her design in p4 as a like retro design thing but I find it too important of a marker of her design to remove it. I understand the why they went with the hairstyle they did for her golden epilogue but I feel it just ends up making her look way older then she is. I thought her having her hair up would be a nice change since she does it so rarely and settled on a ponytail. Tried changing the bangs but the ones she already had just felt right. I wanted her clothes to carry this kind of air of sophistication so I tried to keep them relatively simple and sleek. She's wearing pants in the winter outfit but I chose the longer coat to keep a similar skirt silhouette. The choker was largely inspired by the scarf she has in her winter outfit. Despite being a different colour the cardigan was also chosen to tie back somewhat to the sweater she wears with her school uniform.

In some side material it's mentioned that Yukiko has an interest in western fashion and aesthetics (part of what made the castle manifest the way it did) and I wanted to lean on that in some way for her metaverse design. I ended up going with a masquerade ball theme. I tried to keep the dress to something simple and easy to move in. The gloves and boots take inspiration from her persona in terms of design and size. I wanted to incorporate elements from her work kimono as well hence the ribbon around the torso and flower patterning. Probably the most unsure of this one of the metaverse designs so far. Especially the colours (considered making the reds pinks initially). Might revisit this one.

Rise Kujikawa

Canonically still making music as an idol as of p5. She thankfully has a little more time to herself now then she did at the height of her popularity but shes still enjoying herself and her career.

I really liked her epilogue design having her hair down because it feels alot more relaxed. I feel she probably stop wearing the pigtails as regularly outside of work as time goes on. I went for a more casual relaxed style for her in for her general casual wear, but I still wanted a kind of cute vibe.

Wanted her to have two metaverse outfits mostly because I wanted her to have this little magical girl transformation thing when she fights. But I also think it kind of emphasizes her thing in arena with Himiko about having different sides of herself. Tried to keep them visually similar. General coloursheme of these were inspired by the album cover she has in p5 bc I really liked the kind of more mature vibe to it then weve been shown with her previous idol stuff.

Himiko kind of has this like emphasis on a lack of mobility with the mermaid dress so I ended up using this with Rise as well bc I thought it would be fitting for a navigator. I based the battle outfit mostly on her idol oufits from the anime and DaN. I was really unsure the direction to go with for the mask but I wanted it to be two-toned to emphasize the multiple faces thing again and I like what I ended up with.

Yosuke Hanamura

Studying in the city and struggling to juggle college and a part time job. I'm unsure on what he'd major in but he's paying his own way through college. He's working at either a Junes branch or a Triple Seven or something. I think he's rooming with someone in a rented apartment currently (either Narukami or someone outside the IT. Leaning towards the latter)

I'm trying to go for outfits that are like flashy but still pretty casual and I think I did an alright job. Darker colour pallete in his outfits here then the p4 ones but I think it works. The headphones being wireless was an immediate obvious design choice I thought of as a way to show the difference in time period (sounds weird to talk about it like that since its like 5 years difference but it is what it is/)

I went for this kind of tropey ninja/super hero thing with his metaverse outfit. The primarily black colour was something I also chose for this reason. The tools on the belt are also kind of typical in this regard. The headphones were something I felt was integral to his design so I had to include them. Charge suggested the googles as a mask idea and I think it works really well.

Kanji Tatsumi

Continuing the family business as well as expanding to sell his work online. Generally doing fairly well for himself, rightfully confident in his work. I feel like he's probably tried out a few things when it comes to his personal style before settling where he is now. Has gone back and forth quite a few times on his hair but eventually decided on keeping in black.

Going to be honest I sketched this out after Naoto's but ended up psyching myself out of working on it for a while. Anyway I went at this with this kind of idea of trying to like soften the though guy aspect of Kanji's appearance without losing them. I did try out a couple of other hairstyles but I couldn't come up with something else that felt right.

The Metaverse Design was initially going to have more samurai inspiration but it ended up only coming through with the mask in the end. Deliberately harkening back to his initial design with this but I feel like it's warrented because Kanji's fashion in 4 is as much a facade to keep people away as it is just his own personal taste.

Chie Satonaka

Still pursuing police work around the Yasoinaba area. I think all the IT are signed on with the Shadow Operatives in case of emergency but Chie is more actively involved with the Operatives then the rest of the IT as she actively asks and tries to be. Still talks to Akihiko fairly regularly as well (mostly exchanging texts).

Generally with her everyday outfits I mostly wanted to keep it sporty but relaxed. Deliberately made these a little less overtly feminine then her p4 outfits because I feel like she'd grow more confident in herself not being as feminine as her peers. Tried to keep an article of clothing the same between the two of these outfits to call back to the jersey she was wearing in 4. I considered having her not continue to dye her hair but I didn't feel like Chie once I changed her hair colour so it gets to stay the same.

Her metaverse outfit takes inspiration from kung fu uniforms, particularly the pants. The chest plate is styled after a hotoke dou albeit shortened. Charge also came up with the mask for this one; a blindfold to invoke the idea of a uber competent blinded martial artist, the fabric here is sheer though. The shoes on this design are not necessarily finalized as they are not technically part of the outfit. They are her weapons and would change as such like in the rpg.

Ok that's all for now. Glad to finally have this done

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

this is a WIP probably gonna work on this sometime, but in the meantime I feel like this is right up many people's alley so I figure I might as well share it. forgive any errors or disorganization, I've been off one of my meds for a week now and also in general not in the best place mentally or physically.

content warning for the usual, blood, animal death, mild gore, pretty in line with the last Majexatli fic. Halsin and Majexatli are the main focus but Astarion is also mentioned because of the theme of blood and hunting ✌🏽

//

Majexatli wondered, sometimes, what drew them to the hunt. It wasn’t something they took the time to consider before the Nautiloid, when they prowled the Sword Coast in wildshape. Back then they rationalized it, it was much easier to hunt and eat in wildshape than to gather ingredients and make camp and cook something. Having most of their meals be bloody and raw made the ones they had outside of wildshape that much more special.

Now, though? They spent their days as a person, every night there was a camp with plenty of rations, there was wine and cooked meats and soups and breads enough for everyone. There were traders who could sell them any array of foods, greens and mushrooms a plenty along the road, abandoned campsites and kitchens with all sorts of meats and produce. Majexatli didn’t need to hunt, every night they could curl up by a fire with a full belly.

So what drew them to the hunt? Why did they still feel a hunger clawing at them? A restlessness in their own skin? 

Sometimes at night Majexatli watched Astarion hunt while prowling in the shadows and lurking in trees. He was effective enough, but clumsy. As much as he has grown better at stealthing, ambushing enemies with his bow or dagger, he was different when he had just his teeth, when his mind was preoccupied with hunger. It was quick and inelegant, never drawn out, he picked whatever animal he could find, it didn’t matter what it was so long as they had blood. It seemed wasteful.

Sometimes Majexatli entertained the thought of teaching him how to hunt properly, the art of drawing it out. Maybe they could have him hunt them, make him prove himself before spilling their blood. Never were his eyes more present and alive than when their blood was on his tongue.

They could teach him the rules of the hunt.

They shouldn’t, they knew, shouldn’t drag him down with them. They were supposed to be the kind and wise druid coaxing him back from the edge, rather than echoing the dark whispers in their mind and showing him the shards of divinity that could be in everything if you tore into the flesh enough, how if you swallowed holiness bloodied and raw enough it could fix you from the inside.

But Astarion was a vampire, undead, he needed blood to live. He had a reason for his bloodshed, he would starve without it. What reason did Majexatli have? If their hunt was just a supplication, a prayer, an offering, then why did they hunger? Was devotion making them a monster, or was their piety a justification for the monster they already were?

If they weren’t a monster, if they were truly good, then Majexatli would have been at camp, basking in the victory of the Shadow Curse being lifted, finding what pleasure could be found in the brief moments before they chased the Elder Brain to Baldur’s Gate. Kethric Thorm was dead, the Nightsong freed, Thaniel made whole again, Gale alive, Wyll would be free of his contract soon, Jaheira had joined their camp. There was a veritable feast around the campfire, endless companionship, if they wanted they could be pulling someone away to somewhere private and chasing whatever pleasure they could.

Instead they were in the forest, hidden in the shadows, following a trail of blood through the trees, the buzzing euphoria of the hunt dulling the hunger that had dug its claws into them. 

Slaying the young is forbidden.

The brown bear was full-grown, only slightly larger than Majexatli’s current form. In any other form it would have been stupid, reckless to take on a bear. It might still be, but they wanted a challenge, wanted to impress. It wasn’t often Majexatli took the form of a Dire Wolf, they wanted to make the most of it.

And a bear claw was one of Malar’s holy symbols.

Make your kills long and bloody.

They had jumped from the shadows, snapping at the bear’s hind leg, making sure to bite and tear enough for the bear's blood to spill on the grass below. They had let the bear get a swipe on them, feigning a pained yelp as it spilled their blood in turn, run off into the trees as though afraid and wounded.

Oh, Majexatli had been disappointed when the bear didn’t follow, didn’t try to hunt them down in turn, but they could adapt. Keeping to the shadows, every so often purposefully stepping on a twig, to watch the bear stop in tense silence, sniff the air. Then they would dash out, pounce and bite and then run off again before the bear could truly react. Majexatli shouldn’t have enjoyed it, they knew, but the only thought in their mind was blood.

And they followed the trail of blood through the trees, stalking, tracking, thrilling at the adrenaline in their veins that kept them warm and warded off the cold breeze. Majexatli let the blood lead them to the edge of a clearing, down to the river’s edge.

The bear was wounded, patches of its fur stained red and glistening in the moonlight. The wounds weren’t grave, bites and claw marks purposefully shallow, just enough to bleed, to distract it. There in the open there were no twigs or dried foliage to alert the bear to their presence as it licked its wounds on the river bank. Crouching in the grass, Majexatli almost felt at home, they could almost forget about the Elder Brain and the Nautiloid. 

They let out a growl as they lunged, managing to knock the bear over as their jaw clamped down on the juncture of its neck, heart jumping and blood singing  as they held it there, felt the bear thrash beneath them claws swiping at them blindly, weakly.

And then Majexatli’s blood turned to ice as they felt the fur beneath their teeth fade, muscles reshape and suddenly their teeth were sinking into a person’s flesh, so much more fragile, so easy for the flesh to give. The rush of blood in their mouth filled them with terror. They should have released immediately, should have let go of the shoulder as soon as they felt the change, as soon as they heard a cry of pain in a voice so familiar. They should have relaxed their jaw—but why? Did they want to let go and drop wildshape? Or did they want to let go so they could adjust their bite, shift their teeth from shoulder to neck, find the jugular and sink their teeth in—

A strong hand found the scruff of their neck somehow, even as now this form dwarfed the man beneath them. Blunt fingers dug into their fur, into the flesh and muscle there, more gentle than he had any right to be.

“Majexatli,” 

They could feel the vibrations of his chest beneath their teeth, Halsin’s voice slightly strained, yet firm and with none of the hatred Majexatli deserved.

Majexatli’s jaw relaxed, teeth pulling out of flesh and they knew blood was spilling from the wounds. They hadn’t felt any bones snap beneath their teeth, yet their mind raced with images of what they would see when they pulled away, visions of Halsin with his throat torn open, bleeding out before they could do anything. A memory surfaced, unbidden, so visceral even 20 years later, how quickly they had bled out, how they had spent those few seconds begging for Silvanus to save them, calling up every prayer they had memorized, every supplication and offering they had given. They had spent every breath striving for the balance Silvanus wanted and he had simply watched their lungs be torn from their chest, as if their slaughter was simply an accepted collateral in his divine plan. 

“Majexatli,”

There was a hand on their face, and it took everything in Majexatli not to snarl and snap at the gentleness.

They couldn’t bring themselves to meet his eyes, instead staring at his shoulder, the tears in his tunic, the bloodstains, the bite marks still lazily oozing blood. He must have cast something, a healing spell to stem the worst of the bleeding and coax the shallowest wounds closed.

“It’s nothing serious,” His voice was so genuine, “I’ve had much worse, it’s alright. We’ve all had moments where we lose ourselves to the beast,”

Halsin let out a slight laugh, but Majexatli could hear a slight pain, the way it was slightly forced, as though he was trying and failing to ignore the Dire Wolf that stood over him. He knew, he had to know that Majexatli could snap his neck with their teeth, that his blood lingered in their mouth. Majexatli wanted to be horrified, disgusted, and they were, but they also wanted to lick their lips and savor the taste.

“Are you alright?”

They finally met his eyes and recoiled, from the concern in his face, from the cautious but naïve trust. He should be running or shifting back to a bear that could snap them in half, they would deserve it.

Majexatli ran. Darting off into the trees, ignoring Halsin’s voice calling after them, blindly zigzagging through the forest as if they were trying to shake someone off their tail. But the beast they were trying to outrun was the one wearing their own skin.

They crashed out of wildshape, into the dirt hard enough to skin their knees, their palms, though they could hardly tell their own blood apart from Halsin’s. Curled up on the ground there, they watched as the moonlight filtering through the trees slowly faded and was replaced by sunrise.

If your prey escapes, they have earned their freedom and whatever boon seems fit.

Majexatli didn’t know if there was anything they could give that would make up for what they did. But they also weren’t sure if Halsin was the prey, or they were.

[kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay]

So cold 🏔️

Summary: You - a rookie agent on their first mission - are sent out with none other than The Natasha Romanov. But what was supposed to be an easy job, suitable for your first timer status, quickly goes awry when Hydra agents unexpectedly ambush the two of you at your safe house.

You barely get away, always following the steady lead of your experienced partner, even when the path she chooses is icy and unforgiving. Can you keep up, or will you be left behind?

Pairing: Natasha Romanov x Reader

(I did not use any specifying descriptions for body type, skin colour, gender etc. so feel free to imagine whatver you like. Also, in case some descriptive word did escape my notice, please feel free to point it out and I will find a more neutral alternative)

Warnings: 18+, depictions of violence, use of weaponry (guns etc.), environmental extremes (snow storm, ice), detailed near death experience (almost freezing to death), angst, Natasha being a cryptic drama queen

Word count: 6.2k

Author's note: Hi there, long time no see lol. This is my entry for @the-slumberparty's "Christmas in July" challenge! All in the spirit of bringing some nice tropes and themes from the winter season into the heat of summer 🌨️ My chosen prompt/trope is 'Cuddling for warmth' with Natasha Romanov 🖤

I hope you enjoy 🥰💖

...

“Keep going!” Natasha shouted in front of you, her head slightly tilted to the side as she spoke, so the wind wouldn't carry the words away before they reached your ears. “It's not much longer now, agent!”

You weren't cut out for this. You had massively misjudged your own abilities and it was coming back to bite you in the ass now.

She was wearing her usual attire, the thin suit not suited for this weather any better than your own tactical gear.

Your winter clothes were still back at the not-so-safe house you had to abandon after Hydra had invaded the space in search for you and the assassin still trudging ahead of you. Someone must've tipped them off that you were coming and they decided to nip the threat – aka you and Natasha – in the bud.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panted, toes and fingers frozen from the icy winds. Snowflakes whipped around you, the cold ice crystals biting at your exposed skin. It felt like being poked with dozens of sharp needles.

Natasha and you barely escaped the awaiting Hydra agents and you did so only because of the seasoned assassin's quick wit and ability to improvise in any situation.

She had efficiently taken out the brunt of the attackers, pried a set of car keys from the pockets of a fallen agent and then shouted at you to follow her.

The two of you left, legs pumping and heads ducked as bullets shredded the bark of the pine trees surrounding the property.

The red-head was quick to spot the vehicle, or rather one of the vehicles, their enemy used to get to the secluded house and with a flick of her finger unlocked the correct car. The black, windowless van gave a short 'beep' and flashed its lights and you headed for it without hesitation.

How you went from being in a realtively safe vehicle to stumbling through the ice cold tundra of Svalbard?

Well, your attackers swiftly started the pursuit of you and your red-headed partner, so as soon as the opportunity presented itself, you ditched the car in a mostly hidden location and continued your escape on foot, this way they had no way of tracking you via the car.

So off you went, further away from what little civilization there was in the first place and out into the uncharted terrain of the arctic archipelago.

Your frozen fingers failed to hold the loaded hand gun you had kept at the ready and you cursed when it fell into the snow. You stiff body protested as you tried to bend down to pick the weapon up, frozen limbs making it hard to remain balanced. All it took for you to topple head first into the snow was a strong gust of wind.

The icy snow bit at your skin, the cold seeping through your clothes and settling deep in your bones. You whimpered pathetically, uncoordinated limbs flailing in the snow as you tried to regain your footing.

It was so cold. The wind didn't stop blowing, the snow didn't stop falling from the sky, the usually cheerful ice crystals now glinting with murderous intent as they settled down on your shaking form.

It was summer. You didn't even know it could get this cold somewhere in the middle of summer.

But out here, on this cluster of islands in the middle of the sea, surrounded by looming mountains and sparse plant life, the cold temperatures seemed to be at home. The glittering peaks rose around you, the snow covered stone giants looking down at you like sentient beings silently awaiting your demise.

A violent shiver ripped through your body and you picked up your heavy head to look at the darkening sky. Soon it would be night and the temperatures would keep plummeting.

The thought of freezing to death in this no mans land jolted your body into motion. Along with the terrifying discovery that you couldn't spot your partner anywhere.

Adrenaline poured into your system, forcing your limbs to move. You scrambled to your feet, your legs unsteady beneath you as you stared ahead but could not see any sign of Natasha.

Your gun was long forgotten, left behind thoughtlessly as you hurried through the snow, your frantic gaze sweeping from left to right.

The storm kept sweeping up the settled snow around you and the added snowflakes swirling down from above clouded your vision further, but not so much that you wouldn't be able to see the red-head, had she waited-

Maybe she didn't realise you fell. Maybe... Maybe you laid there longer than you think, motionless in the cold snow, and she didn't notice as she kept trudging along without you.

Panic spread through your chest, a sharp, stinging sensation that expanded to your stomach and made you jittery.

All caution thrown to the wind, you hurried ahead and called out.

“Hello? Agent Romanoff? Hello!”

Your voice briefly echoed around you before the strong winds carried it away, like a sentence written with ink washed away in water.

Tears gathered in your eyes and your throat closed up.

“Please! I'm here! Where are you?”

What if she was gone and you truly were alone? Would the weather get you first, or would Hydra sniff out your trail and kill you?

You should've just accepted a desk job. When SHIELD hired you, it was to join their army of secretive pencil pushers, not to become an agent in action. But as you underwent the mandatory training every single agent had to go through – whether they would see active duty or not – your skills had quickly gotten you a few recommendations and before you knew it, you had been bumped up from a desk job to a field agent.

Just like that.

And now you were forced to accept the consequences of a decision that wasn't even fully yours. You would pay with your life because someone thought you'd make a good field agent and decided your path for you.

You really should've insisted on your original placement. Safe and sound behind a desk, uncovering and hiding away state secrets and ending secret wars all with the push of a few buttons.

You dropped to the snowy ground again, your numb legs felled by a hidden obstacle that blocked your foot and sent you to your knees. Your hands hurt terribly when they made contact with the cold ground, but you didn't dare lift them lest you fall even further. You didn't think you'd be able to get up again.

“Natasha, help-” you shouted out weakly, your arms threatening to buckle beneath you. “I don't want to die.”

Tears flooded your eyes, the salty liquid drawing cold paths along your face and gathering at the tip of your nose before dropping to the cold ground.

Just as you were about to give up, your arms folding and knees slipping, a strong hand roughly grabbed your upper arm.

You let out a scream, your body raising whatever strenght you had left to struggle weakly against the sudden assault, when the flushed face of Agent Romanoff appeared in your vision.

“Agent!” she snapped, bending down fully to grab your other arm and hoist you to your feet.

Your struggle seized immediately and relief flooded through you at the sight of her. Your hands reached out, stiff fingers holding onto her arms with all your might. She was your life line and you wouldn't dare to let her go.

She was saying something, you could hear it, words said in an urgent, but controlled tone. You saw her lips moving, the scowl she wore as she stared at you. But you didn't understand any of it. You just stood there, clutching her arms and staring at her face with wide eyes.

“We have to move!” the woman snapped eventually. She pried your hands off her arms and moved next to you. She hooked one arm around your middle, while the other grabbed one of yours and slung it over her shoulder.

You weren't much help in your state of shock, your body slow and clumsy as she did her best to drag you along, regrettably leaving wide trails in the snow behind you. If you were lucky, the falling snow would cover your tracks before anyone could follow you.

The two of you kept going for what felt like ages until eventually, Natasha stopped in a thicket of bushes and trees. She gently lowered you down, leaning your trembling body against a tree trunk and then hurried away from you.

“Wait!” you called out, the thought of her leaving you again shaking you out of your stupor. You tried to push away from the trunk, to get to your feet and follow her, but your body gave out and you helplessly slumped back agains the rough bark.

Natasha didn't stop. She walked a few more steps before stopping and crouching on the ground. You could see her hands digging through the snow, her pale skin beginning to turn blue due to the cold.

A few moments later the red-head got up again, hands latched to something on the floor. She gave a violent pull, using all her strength, leaning her body into the motion and then, with a loud, tortured creak, a trap door opened in the ground.

She flung it open, the heavy metal thumping against the snow covered ground, and turned around to retrieve you from where she left you leaning against the tree.

“Come on, we're almost there,” she said, her voice still steady, though you thought you could hear a smidge of concern in her tone.

The assassin dragged you towards the bunker, your feet tripping over air as you clumsily moved along.

The trap door looked like a hungry maw as it greeted you surrounded by the blinding white of the snow, the sight of it sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the icy cold still surrounding you.

“Focus, there are stairs. I can't carry you down,” Natasha said firmly and you did your best to straighten up your slumped body draped over her much more steady form.

She led you down the first step, your clumsy feet slowly following her example, even if only just.

The two of you made your way further down until you reached the bottom of the stairs. It was a good thing too, because you were ready to keel over.

“Here, hold this,” the levelheaded red-head said as she lifted your arm from around her shoulders, leaned you against the bunker wall and pressed a flashlight into your numb hands. Your frozen fingers barely managed to curl around the object before she let go of it and then hurried up the stairs.

As you stood there, shaky legs hardly supoorting your own weight, a numbing sensation took the place of the ever biting cold. The loud 'thunk' of the trap door falling shut barely stirred you, the only thought that occurred was that you should stop feeling so numb with cold now that the wind and ice had been locked out.

But the numbed prickling sensation spreading all over your body made it feel like you were still left out in the storm where the ever creeping fingers of death slowly close around your heart, squeezing it in its icy hold.

“Hey, hey! Eyes on me, agent,” Natasha snapped, a light pop to your cheek startling your eyes open again. You hadn't even noticed they'd closed.

The red-head blew out a long breath as your unfocused gaze slowly zeroed in on her. She eyed you for a long moment before turning to the metal door that was inlaid into the cement wall at the bottom of the stairs. Her pale hands grasped the heavy wheel attached to the door and turned it with all her might until it began turning with a defeaning screech.

You didn't have the energy to actually jerk at the unpleasant sound, your muscles so drained they'd even stopped their violent trembling. You didn't think that was a good thing. Didn't muscles tremble as a way to warm up your body?

The door swung open with another tortured sound and Natasha disappeared inside right after plucking the flashlight from your grasp. You swayed in place, body threatening to fold the longer you stood in the dark.

A few long moments passed and you were starting to grow restless at Natasha's absence. Taking a determined – and horribly misjudged – step forward, you immediately began to crumple to the floor in a decidedly unelegant way and with a hoarse squeak, followed by the loud 'thump' of your body hitting the cement floor.

Strangely enough, there wasn't really a sensation of pain, merely a dulled throb in your knees and elbows.

A light humming sound started to pick up around you just as you found yourself lying on the floor, the flickering of the overhead lights hurting your tired eyes.

Natasha must've found the generator. Or whatever else was used to power this ancient bunker.

You heard the quiet sounds of her light steps growing louder and eventually a cursed “Great!” uttered by her. “Can't leave you alone for a single second. How the hell did you pass your field training...”

She looped her arms underneath yours and began dragging your limp form into the bunker. Your wet clothes left a streak across the bleak floor.

“ 'm tired,” you mumbled, your thoughts swimming aimlessly around your cottony head.

“You're not allowed to sleep. That's an order from your superior Agent,” Natasha barked through clenched teeth.

She heaved your heavy body onto something soft – well, not exactly soft, but definitely softer than the unforgiving floor – and rolled you around until you laid on your back and stared up at the grey ceiling.

“We gotta get you out of your wet clothes. They will cool you down and that's the last thing we need right now,” Natasha informed you, her hand briefly touching your frozen cheek before wandering lower and working on quickly removing your layers of wet clothes.

You tried to help as best as you could, straining to lift limbs and shift left or right so she could slip off various items of clohting until you were left in your sports bra and panties. They too were slightly damp, but you were glad Natasha had decided to grant you your modesty. Not that you could have protested if she had wanted to take the last of your coverage as well.

The red-head had talked to you the entire time, keeping your mind engaged and awake. She was still talking now, her voice much more soothing than before, the tense edge gone from her rich baritone.

Some feeling was slowly coming back to your extremeties and you finally noticed how warm it was in the small underground room – and how cold you were in comparison.

Sharp, stinging pain started to needle at every inch of your skin and you had absolutely no control over the tears that rose unbidden to your eyes, barely brimming along your waterline before spilling over with a weak sob rattling in your hollow chest.

“I wan' go home,” you slurred, tears running down your temples and into your hairline.

“Hey, it's alright. You'll go home, don't worry. I'll make sure of it,” Natasha's voice soothed you.

You were so occupied with crying and suddenly fearing for your life that you didn't notice the red-head had dressed down to her underwear as well and was now climbing onto what seemed to be a sturdy, wall-mounted cot jutting out from the bleak cement walls.

The mattress dipped beneath her body as she climbed on, shuffling carefully on her knees and using her hands to roll you a little further towards the wall.

The movement jostling your body made you aware of the sublte tremble that overtook your muscles once more as you laid on the firm cot. Tears were still trickling down your face and your breathing came in shaky stutters. There were so many things you wanted to say, last words and farewells for Natasha to deliver to your loved ones, but nothing but chocked crying and shuddery breaths made it past you ice-cold lips.

“I'm going to get you warmed up. I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable with this, but I don't know how else to help you,” Natasha explained evenly.

She had shuffled down to lie next to you, her front pressed againt the curve of your spine. You felt the faint vibration of her voice against you trembling back. Your core muscles had begun to shake violently now, the cooled down flesh trying to preserve body heat with a desperate last measure.

“Come here,” the older woman muttered behind you, wrapping her arm around you and pulling your bodies flush together. Her bent legs fit perfectly against your own, her thighs slotted up against the underside of yours and her scarred knees firmly lodged in place in the soft backside of your own.

She reached out to pull the thin blanket over your bodies, carefully making sure that it covered you from your neck down to your frozen toes that still felt concerningly numb.

“S-so c-co- cold,” you mumbled, your tired eyes falling shut as you instinctively nestled back against Natasha's warm body as much as you could in your delirious, weakened state.

“Shh, you'll be warmer soon. Just stay with me, rookie,” the red-head soothed, her hand resting on your soft belly making the smallest of circling motions to calm you.

The touch was so soft, your frozen body almost didn't register it as you sniffled through the gradually slowing tears wetting your cold face.

“ 'wan home,” you tiredly slurred again, your mind getting slow and foggy as you laid tucked up against Natasha, your trembling muscles shaking the mattress.

Bone deep exhaustion was creeping in, the emotional and physical shock of the day's events dragging you under at last, drowning your conscience in thick darkness.

-

“-Ookie. Wake up.”

Silence.

“-gotta wake up.”

A murmur.

“Can you hear me?”

Your eyes fluttered open for a moment, blurry vision hardly able to focus on your surroundings. The only thing your sluggish mind registered was the glaring light brightening up the space you found yourself in.

“There we go. Come on, keep those eyes open.”

There was a light tap to your cheek. A warm hand settled on the skin and popped against it a couple of times until your eyes opened once more.

“Hey, look at me.”

It took you a moment to figure out what was going on. Your eyes settled on a familiar red-head who stood in front of the cot you were curled up on in nothing but your practical underwear.

Natasha was in the same state of undress, her hair in a mussed up bun. A few strands fell in her eyes when she bent over to stare down at you with observant green eyes.

���Mmh... wha'?” you mumbled, eyes blearily blinking up at the woman who scanned your face carefully.

Your cheek itched and you instinctively reached up, heavy arm fighting against exhausted muscles to scratch the itch.

“You can move, that's good,” Natasha observed and straightened back up. “Stay awake. You need to eat and drink.”

It took you a moment to understand her words and then the dramatic position you had found yourself in not long ago filtered back into your foggy thoughts.

The ice and the snow, the freezing winds tearing at your clothes. You'd fallen, unable to get back up from the frozen ground... After that, flashes of the red-head's face, her hands on your trembling body, dragging you, undressing you, holding you.

“You- you saved me,” you uttered quietly, the words clearer now that you became fully conscious.

Natasha stopped in her tracks. She had already turned her back on you, walking off towards the other end of the room, but your quiet voice made her halt. She glanced at you over her shoulder.

“Yes, I did,” she said evenly and continued her path. “You're welcome.”

You stared after her for a moment, watching as she strode across the cement floor, the glaring ceiling lights throwing her shadow on the ground, until it became too hard to keep your eyes open and you surrendered to the pull of your heavy lids.

“Didn't I tell you to keep your eyes open, rookie. I was under the impression you were good at following orders,” Natasha's voice came from right in front of you, startling your tired eyes open again.

“Sorry. I'm tired,” you mumbled and rubbed your eyes before maneuvering an arm under your body and pressing up into a more upright position. It was hard on your tired muscles and Natasha saw you straining.

She set the bowls she was holding onto the floor and reached out to hoist you into a sitting position with your back leaning against the cool wall behind you. Then she grabbed the bowls and handed you one before climbing into the bed beside you and pulling the blanket over both of you.

“Eat,” Natasha ordered curtly. She didn't shy away from physical contact despite her distant behaviour, quite the opposite. She settled close to you, her side pressed against yours. She was warmer than you, but not noticably so.

It made you realise that, for the first time since you and your partner had fled your safe house at the edge of the sleepy town, you weren't cold. You weren't shaking, your limbs weren't growing numb or stinging from the biting cold.

“Thank you,” you said quietly after having a mouthful of the hot broth steaming in the tin bowl. “For the food and... you know.”

“You're welcome. Now eat. I didn't go through all the trouble of dragging your frozen ass through the tundra just so you die of malnutrition,” the red-head said, nudging your side with her elbow without looking up from the bowl of broth she made and continued eating.

Somehow her answer didn't feel genuine, but then again, saving lives was more or less her job, so maybe she didn't expect any big displays of grattitude.

You tried to shrug it off and silently finished your food. It was tiring, holding the bowl and bringing the spoon to your lips for every bite. The ordeal in the cold had sucked every bit of energy from your body and now that you weren't actively freezing to death or delirious it hit you like a train.

You came incredibly close to losing your life. The realisation was humbling and terrifying and it filled you with so much grattitude towards your mission partner. If it wasn't for her experience in the field, her quick thinking and acting, you would be dead. Not frozen to death in the stormy tundra, no. You would've died with a bullet in your back the moment you were ambushed if it wasn't for Natasha.

Your shaky hands set the empty bowl down in your lap and you raised your gaze, properly studying the space you were in for the first time. It was a bunker, practical, bare, down to the point.

Cement floors and walls, several bunk beds jutting out from the walls, a small nook that held old kitchen appliances, a rickety set of chairs and a table. Several filing cabinets stood pushed up against the far wall to your right.

“Where are we?” you asked, hoping to keep your spiraling thoughts about your fragile existence at bay as well as wanting to fill the eerie quiet surrounding you.

“A bunker,” Natasha supplied very unhelpfully. She pushed up from the cot, pulling the blanket off her body and tucking it back around yours before taking your bowl from your lap and bringing it with her to the kitchen space.

“I.. I can see that. I know I'm a rookie, but I'm not that clueless,” you replied, somewhat irritated at her curt responses.

You thanked her for saving you and for the food. You were trying to make conversation. Why was she being so dismissive? You didn't do anything wrong.

“You almost died out in the cold if it wasn't for me. Not to mention that you lost your firearm. I'd say you're fairly clueless,” Natasha pointed out, her voice still infuriatingly even. As if she didn't care, as if you were nothing but an inconvenience for her.

You clenched your jaw, anger bubbling up beneath your skin. She wasn't being fair. You didn't ask for this. Someone made the decision for you, telling you you'd be better off as a field agent rather than wasting your talents behind a desk. None of this was your fault.

“I- This-” you started, chest puffed out and hands weakly clutching at your blanket.

“Think before you speak,” Natasha commented, leisurely washing the bowls and spoons you had used.

That did it. Your eyes bore into her back, a snarl twisting your features.

Shoving – well, in your state it was more a weak flopping of limbs – the blanket away from your body, you somehow managed to maneuver yourself to the edge of the cot and began to get up.

“Stop it! I- I didn't ask for any of this. This is my first time in the field, a decision that was made for me. They kept telling me I shouldn't waste my skills on a desk job and I was stupid enough to believe them! And look where it got me. I almost died! I could've been dead. Shot, stabbed, tortured by Hydra agents, frozen to death in the snow like some unloved pet left by an owner! It's not my fault things went sideways and I can't be blamed for not knowing better either, so stop acting like I'm some dumbass who purposely makes things difficult for you, you- urgh”

The moment you tried to push yourself up into a standing position to march over to the seemingly indifferent red-head your legs gave out beneath you. You vision swam, head pounding as your heart pumped desperately in your chest to supply your brain with enough oxygen and keep you from passing out.

Natasha was by your side in the blink of an eye. Your knees barely got the chance to touch the floor before she caught you, hands shoved under your arms to keep you from slamming into the cement floor like a sack of potatoes.

She gave a sigh, muttering something under her breath as she heaved your floppy body back onto the mattress and moved you onto your side. She drew the blanket back over your exposed body and then gripped your chin between her index and thumb.

Your vision was still a little blurry, thoughts scrambled from the sudden collapse that you probably should have anticipated considering your current state.

“Stay in bed, rookie. You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep this up,” Natasha reprimanded.

Assumingly having found what she was looking for, the red-head released your face and settled it back on the pillow.

You watched her groggily, eyes following her shape as she retrieved something from a squeaky cupboard and returned to you. It was a water bottle by the looks of it. You couldn't read the label.

Natasha opened the bottle with a swift twist of the cap and then reached behind your neck to prop your head up enough so you could drink from the bottle she held to your lips.

When she deemed that you had had enough, she pulled the bottle away and put your head back on the pillow.

You were too embarassed to speak, ashamed of your outburst and your collapse. Once again, she had to help you. You really were clueless. Not that it could be expected otherwise, seeing as this was your first mission. And it immediately went awry.

Natasha didn't say anything else either. She merely climbed back up onto the mattress, carefully climbing over your lax body and settling close behind, once again molding your two forms together.

After a while of tense silence, you let out a sigh.

“Sorry.”

Natasha merely hummed at your apology.

You began wracking your brain for more words to say, something to convince the woman that you never meant to make things difficult for her, but that you simply didn't know any better. Before any of those half-bakes sentences can make it past your lips though, Natasha begins to speak.

“It's an old soviet bunker. I know it from my days with Dreykov.”

It took you a moment to place her words, not expecting the sudden change of topic.

So that's where you were. An old soviet bunker. You could only thank the stars that it was Natasha Romanov who you had been sent out with. Anyone else might not have had this knowledge and you would've ended up dead in the snow.

“Okay... How- How did you know it was deserted?” you asked hesitantly.

“I didn't.” Natasha replied bluntly, shifting behind you to press closer. You knew it was only to keep your body temperature up and steady after the hypothermia, but you couldn't help but take comfort from the action.

“But- What would you have done if there were people here? Armed people?” you wondered, images of bloody scenes flashing before your eyes. You shuddered, head dipping down and body nestling back against Natasha's firm one.

“I would've killed them.”

That gave you a pause.

“You- you would've... of course you would,” you stuttered and then gave up with a huff. You didn't know what you expected.

“You're my responsibilty, rookie. I don't like to see colleagues dying on the job,´not if I can help it,” Natasha said. She lifted the arm she'd kept on her hip over your waist, settling her hand on your soft tummy just the way she had done when she climbed onto the cot last time. “Especially not sweet ones like you.”

Your stomach squeezed strangely at the unexpected compliment, a giddy kind of feeling bubbling up in your overtired mind.

“What? I'm not- not sweet,” you deflected, flustered and confused. She was being so steely before and now she complimented you out of nowhere.

“You are. And green behind the ears like no other,” Natasha said matter of factly, causing you to pout a little.

Yes, you didn't have experience, but according to your trainers and superiors you had at least some skill, otherwise they wouldn't have sent you out in the field. Still something you deeply regretted not turning down.

“I usually don't take new recruits on missions. I either work alone or have an experienced agent of my choosing with me. Most of the time Barton, if he's available,” the woman added.

You frowned. Was she regretting this mission? Regretting that she had given it a try to go out on a job with someone less experienced and steady?

“But... why did they send me with you then? They should know you don't work with noobs like me and reagrding your stature in the Agency... Well, I'd like to think they respect your wishes,” you mumbled.

“Oh, they do. I asked for you as my partner. It would've been an uneventful solo mission, so taking you to show you the ropes seemed sensible,” the red-head revealed.

Her words made you stop. She'd requested you as her partner when she could've easily done this by herself without any complications? You didn't get it.

The Black Widow, a former KGB agent and most feared assassin, wasn't known for such niceties. What could have possibly made her think you were worth her time?

Thankfully, Natasha didn't let your thoughts spiral too far.

“I knew the moment I laid eyes on you during your training that the field wasn't your place. You are good, yes. In a controlled environment. But out here, away from shooting ranges and bullet-proof vests? You hesitate. You think too much and it will get you killed. So I made sure that wouldn't happen and that, after all this, you can go back and start that desk job you applied for,” she concluded.

There were countless questions swirling through your head, each one fighting to be ask first.

“Does that make me less?” was the question spilling forth before any of the others.

Natasha sighed. She shifted behind you, legs pressing closer to yours.

“Some would think so. But it doesn't,” she said. For a moment you thought that was it, but after a short silence the red-head kept going.

“There's a reason we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Every job needs doing, no matter how inconsequential it might seem. If not for cleaners and refuse collectors, who would keep our streets and public spaces clean? They are just as fundamentally important to our life in society as any politician or police officer. The same goes for you. We need people out in the field, but without the people behind the desks, directing them, gathering information, finding new sources and uncovering secrets, they would be lost.”

Her words stunned you. They came unexpected. You thought highly of Natasha Romanov, but she always seemed untouchable, so above everything else. It surprised you that she had such on open view of the world. So many active duty agents that you had met in your short time at Shield constantly frowned upon and made jokes about their stationary colleagues who sat behind desks, organised meetings and collected information.

“That... That's a very nice way of looking at things,” you replied eventually.

Once more the red-head only gave a hum. It made you feel like you had overstayed your welcome by asking questions she had to obligation to answer. Then again, she did say she chose you to come on a mission with her, so...

Yes, so what? What was her reasoning for that? She said she knew you weren't fit for the job when she saw you at training. But what does that mean? Why didn't she just report her opinion to someone in charge and spared you all this hassle? Why did she care at all?

“Why me? Why do you care what happens to me?” you blurted out, unable to hold back the burning question that plagued your mind.

“I see a lot and I hear a lot,” Natasha replied cryptically, before continuing in clearer terms. “It is part of the profession. And sometimes, when I see something, I decide that I want to see more. To know more, hear more, learn more. And when I saw you, well, I wanted to do exactly that. To follow the intrigue and see what hid behind it.”

“But I'm not very intrigung, am I?” you deflected nervously.

“Hm, to me you are. You're sweet. Would be a shame for you to be gone before I ever got the chance to have a proper conversation with you, don't you think?”

You found it strange that they were sending you with the Black Widow on your very first mission. It was even stranger that besides a stake out here and there, much of your time was spent with her in close quarters doing not much of anything. Well, before things went sideways, anyway.

It couldn't be that the woman behind you chose you simply for selfish reasons? To get to know you and watch you up close?

'I'm going mad' you thought to yourself, your still sluggish head unable to wrap around the truth that was slowly being revealed piece by piece.

A squeeze around your middle brought you back to the present moment.

“Don't worry you pretty little head about it, rookie. I already contacted Fury when you were sleeping. The communication systems down here are outdated, but I made it work. They are sending an extraction team for us and backup to sniff out where Hydra is hiding. Soon, we'll be back and then you have all the time in the world to figure this out,” Natasha said, the slightest bit of a teasig undertone to her voice.

“Until then, sleep. You need it and I need you to make a full recovery,” she added at last.

You wanted to say more, protest that you weren't tired and wanted to figure out what she was so intriguingly hinting at, but your body agreed with Natasha's statement.

A shuddered jawn tumbled out of your mouth and you could already feel your eyes fluttering shut despite your efforts to keep them open.

A soft humming sound came from behind you, helping you drift off to sleep until the last thing you remembered was a rough hand softly stroking your skin until you fell asleep.

...

There we go! A little late, but I managed after all! Cuddling for warmth is such a weakness of mine, especially when it is with my favourite Agent and Partner in crime Natasha Romanov 😌😇 I'd let her cuddle me day and night. I'm very squishy and soft, so perfect for snuggling! 🥺🥰

I really appreciate being allowed to submit this late 😅😳 and I hope you enjoy this angsty detour into the icy, nothern territories that, even in summer, are cold and unforgiving ❄️🤍

[consolecadet]

I'm feeling slightly less seething Christmas hatred than usual this year. I've reached a point where, though I still strongly dislike a lot of things about Christmas, I can separate out the different bits and not let the ones I hate make me cranky about the ones I like.

Like. . .I despise Christmas music, "ugly sweaters", the Salvation Army, jingly little bells, eggnog, candy canes, big hunks of ham, Christmas media, the crushing expectation that you must put on the cheerful rictus of The Christmas Spirit, elves (Santa can stay but only if he's gay), most Christian conceptions of religious entities, people's assumptions that you have a pleasant and uncomplicated relationship with your family of origin, the planet-burning American culture of consumption, proselytization, those new LED string lights that make your front lawn look like a gamer lair, etc, etc, etc.

But I do like peppermint bark, the smell of balsam fir, cheese plates, a short visit to my parents' nice house where trans people outnumber cis people 2:1 and I can always get into my car and drive away, knowing my sister will cherish any lesbian-themed objects I give her, incandescent string lights, neatly wrapping presents with nice paper and double-sided tape, and I guess Die Hard.

My local Buy Nothing group means I no longer have nearly as much of a guilt spiral about receiving gifts I dislike. I believe I've finally gotten my father to stop giving me novelty socks and awful plasticky novelty band-aids. (Actually, maybe I'm giving myself too much credit. I just realized the store where he bought his most irritating gifts closed permanently in 2020.) I also just don't take it as personally when people give me something that betrays a major misapprehension of who I am. It's not like I make it easy for people to know me, especially my parents.

I think part of what's making this time of year less psychologically harrowing is that 1) I got to do Christmas and Hanukkah with KC and without my parents last year, and thus reject within our apartment everything I hated while keeping the menorah and peppermint bark and 2) I spent some time this year trying to practice Judaism in ways my dad was not interested in sharing with me when I was growing up, and figured out what I did/didn't like or value about certain aspects of Jewish religious practice.

It seems very obvious that if I can give up on learning Hebrew because it's upsetting and difficult for me and have a seder with gluten-free matzo that doesn't halachically qualify as Real Matzo, I can absolutely also banish the concept of Christ and all renditions of Silent Night from my home while enjoying smelling a tree in there.

It's extremely common to be a child of an agnostic interfaith couple who did not give you a connection to any kind of faith community and left you with lots of baggage about it. I don't have to wait to fix my feelings about that before I can participate in any holiday or religious practice, and probably HAVE to try participating with a modicum of vulnerability if I want to change anything. Also none of these things materially affect Israel's genocidal behavior unless I, like, buy my parents SodaStream canisters for Christmas.

It probably also helps that I left the job where my boss expected extreme enthusiasm at all times and took any doubt or questions as personal affronts. I read The Promise of Happiness and no longer feel like affect alienation is a personal failing on my part. I feel far less bitter, resentful, and hateful about Christmas if I don't let people pressure me to be (or perform being) sweet, cheerful, and loving about it.

Fuck the Elf on the Shelf though. That's just weird.

[spicyicymeloncat]

Can you do Nya for the doodle/ramble? :o

Nya!!

DISCLAIMER: sorry sorry sorry this is so dang late, I have been sitting on this essay for like 2 months and I feel really bad about it. I just had so many passionate thoughts about Nya until school and work and assignments meant I lost flow and I probably won’t finish it. Tbf I did write lots so Oop lol. I’m just gonna post it unfinished like this so take away what you will :)

Awww hell yeah! So in the last post of this series, I said that Cole is probably the best written character, but i think Nya is the most interesting, and Cole’s only higher because sometimes Nya falls into kinda sexist cliches sometimes. But for the most point Nya is such an inspiring character who goes through so much strife. Honestly I think that her writing is actually a really good commentary on modern day misogyny, which is unexpected since this is just a Lego show marketed to mainly boys, and even if it wasn’t, Nya’s arc hits so much harder than you’d expect. But either way, regardless of the societal analysis, Nya is generally a really strong character who gets a lot of development simply bc was more of a side character who basically fought her way into the plot.

So the main themes of Nya is her struggle with destiny, whether she has free will or choices or if she just has to do what other expect her to. Like so many of her arcs are her struggling against what other people have told her to be or what she tells her self she has to be.

First of all, her time as samurai x and how she initially kept it a secret. In s1, in like, the first episode, we see Nya training on the training course trying to beat Kai’s score, wishing she had a dragon, and generally trying to tag along with the guys despite not being included in their team. Maybe you could argue she always wanted to be a ninja, to prove that she could do that too. However it never really caught on (until much later), and she ended up abandoning that idea in favour of becoming something else; samurai x.

I’ve always thought it was weird that she kept samurai x a secret when there wasn’t really any consequence to it when everyone found out. I think that maybe she felt a little bitter about not being included with the ninja so she decided not to share in what she got up to. Also I bet she just kept it up because the guys’ annoyance at not knowing who she was, would’ve been actually hilarious. But also she may have kept it a secret because no one could tell her how to be if no one knew it was her. Samurai X was her way of having freedom and independency, and her way of proving that she was useful, most importantly, in her own way on her own. She wanted the power to make her own choice and in order to do so, she didn’t even risk letting other people in the know in case they took it from her.

Short mention of s2 but the scene where we see Nya get corrupted is actually so horrific and invasive but it completely fits Nya’s narrative of getting her choices taken away as she’s corrupted by the dark matter. Ooh, quick s2 rewrite concept but the dark matter doesn’t immediately make you evil, but it only builds upon already dark feelings present, and in Nya’s case its her struggle with being alone, presently the fact that she was captured and overall how she gets singled out for not being a ninja or how she has to work harder to be seen alongside everyone else. With both her and Kai, they both seem to equate their worth and right to be in the family with how much they can contribute, and Nya especially puts a lot of pressure on herself, to be just as good or even better than the other ninja.

Now s3. S3… is a mixed bag. Bc it’s notorious for having a god awful love triangle that arose out of nothing but then if you think hard about it, everything after the set up kinda makes sense. Jay and Nya have kinda a strained relationship, where if we view s1 and s2 skeptically, their feelings aren’t really justified further than “jay likes girls and Nya is girl” and “Nya happens to like the colour blue”. It feels very forced hetero 2011 writing because it kinda was, but at least s3 is consistent. If you’re generous and are invested in making the most of a Lego show’s writing, then you’ll be happy to know that all of that accidentally works really well. Because we can assume that jay and Nya were quite young and it’s very common for kids/teens to just get into relationships in only name, for the pure reasoning of “we are guy and girl who hang out sometimes” Nya and jay being in a loveless, one sided relationship where neither are on the same page is pretty realistic actually, and the show tells us that Nya isn’t as invested as jay is and how there seems to be a fundamental imbalance of affection between them. Whilst I hate that Nya changes her whole mind as soon as the computer tells her to, it kinda works in that its consistent with Nya’s incredibly surface level reasoning for attraction. Her mind set is basically: if she was told a guy liked her, then she’s supposed to like them back right? That’s just what you do! Compulsive romance is so real and it’s how I personally see Nya in s3. Also it links in either s3’s theme of relying too much on technology, with Nya being swayed because of it.

Now the actual love triangle links back in with Nya and choice. She’s forced to pick between Jay and Cole but even if she does pick one, she’ll let the other down, or they might not accept it. It looks like she has a choice but there are no good options. And when she feels like she’s fighting against the grain, just like when she gave up from being a ninja, she too retreats from the conflict, avoiding giving an answer that she knows wouldn’t be accepted. She just lets them duke it out until they’ve forgotten about her and any relationship she had or could’ve wanted. By not picking a side, both sides left her after s3 and she just accepts it.

…or maybe I’m looking into to it too much as a way of coping with awful love triangles.

Quick note about s4, bc Nya kinda just kicks ass that season and I honestly don’t have too much to say. She’s just very cool. I will say that’s it’s interesting that she stayed home with wu Lloyd etc when the rest of the team dispersed. You could say she again was left behind. She stayed rebuilding the bounty, which may have been in tribute to zane considering he found the bounty. You could say zane brought the family together and found them a home, so when he died, Nya tried to fix it by remaking their home. Im gonna make a separate post about this actually.

Okay s5 is where we really get going and tbh, this season should’ve been more officially Nya. Because she’s actually becoming a ninja. I think with Nya interpretations, people usually see Nya being a ninja as a bad thing, something that was again forced upon her, which is true. I’ll talk about this again when we get to crystalized. But idk if this is a hot take but I think ninja Nya is a good thing, if you interpret samurai x as being a last resort because she didn’t become a ninja. It’s her learning to not give up, to keep at it, which is how she unlocks her true potential. That she’s just as valuable, in fact, uniquely valuable on the team. Idk I think it’s nice if you look at samurai x being her giving up on trying to be a part of the ninja. Her arc of needing to be perfect at what she does, without allowing herself to be messy or vulnerable or confront what makes her weak because she always thought that if she was a ninja, she’d be the weak link, and confronting why she hadn’t become a ninja makes her vulnerable. And her facing that fear and realising she’s more than she gives herself credit for is so so so good. Nya actually has such a low self esteem and tbh you can’t blame her when it looks like she has to fight tooth and claw to be as good as everyone else, but I’d bet on her being the strongest ninja, in some ways stronger than the green ninja. It’s very fitting that she wears the green gi in s5’s finale, because when the ghosts realise she isn’t the green ninja, they’re actually more terrified. Because she is something more feared than the green ninja. The water ninja. One of the only elements that the fsm couldn’t control. She single handedly drowned the preeminent (and destroyed an 1/8 of the universe but shhh).

And then we get to s6, which is only really good because Nya. Because even when she figures out she’s super op, society hasn’t. We get the whole news stuff in the first episode where the ninja deal with their acquired fame (nice acknowledgment of the rest of the world tbh), and we’re highlighted of how, whilst Nya took down a literal eldritch monster in the last season, she’s still only known for the love triangle, and it feels a little meta because I bet that’s what a lot of fans knew her for too (and I say this because unfortunately 13 ye old me was that, but I’ve rewatched since). We see Nya having to face everyone else’s expectations of her and the media doesn’t see her as anything but the girl ninja and she’s just told to accept that. And even when she’s trying to go against the grain, the fact that she’s only doing it to prove or disprove someone else still means she’s technically still controlled by something else. This is how I interpret the (admittedly mess of) the romance plot. Nya has and does love Jay, but she’s scared of that being all there is to her, that doing what the media expects her to means giving in to it, and losing her sense of independence. She basically can’t do what she wants because she’s holding herself to standard in response to other standards placed on her. It’s like a form of toxic masculinity but for feminism, where women feel like they have to be tough and never vulnerable because they’re trying to fight against being defined by those traits of vulnerability. Nya and Dogshank in particular, have a very specific relationship, they’re on opposite sides but play exactly the same roles, women who fought against the grain and did what was not traditionally expected of them, but in they’re fight to do so they ended up sacrificing their own freedoms anyways (Nya stops herself from getting close to the others in her need to be independent, Dogshank traded her life to be Nadakhan’s pirate just so she could win at something once). And say what you will about s6 but Nya’s death scene will always be the saddest thing, because we truly see Nya just give up her life. She’s so resigned to her fate, finally giving up on changing it and tells Jay that she never wanted to be apart of their boys club anyways. The reference of the “boys’ club” comes up 3 other times in the show: when Nya reasons why she became samurai x - she felt excluded in the group, when Nya is corrupted with dark matter and the guys fight her - Kai quipping that the “club” just became boys only and when the love matcher machine in s3 describes Nya as an independent self confident young woman who refuses to be part of a boy’s club. The evolution of the use of the quote, going from the reason Nya felt excluded, to Nya being defined by it and lastly as an acceptance of her own death, sums up what I mean, Nya internalising that “othering” and just growing to accept it. Nya then says that she guesses it’s true, the greatest love stories end in tragedy, which I think shows how she’s been told and sold so many expectations of how she wouldn’t end up happy, and it further shows how she’s given up. And the resolution of the plot isn’t perfect but I actually do like how Jay essentially bent time and space to show her that it doesn’t have to be true. Metaphorically, Jay erasing the timeline feels like he’s erasing the proposed bad end Nya’s predicted of herself. S6 is definitely flawed but I do like the theme of inevitability and the defiance of that with Nya in particular.

~~~

Yeah sorry friends that’s where I stopped. But I’ll paste my little planning stage so you guys know what I would’ve started writing about?? Anyways Nya good!!

Intro- hell yeahhh - good writing altjough ppl don’t think so

- boys club - choices

- Samurai x inventing her own identity but in retaliation

- Water ninja - child of destiny

- S6 choosing her own fate - crystalise

- S11 powers significant + seabound

- Crystalised

- Tidbits such a cool narrative but like s567 could’ve been even cooler

Conc honestly I get emotional bc she’s actually so cool man

[butterglitter]

The Forgotten Love

You had a crush on boy who didn't even know that you existed. But will that be the case forever?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is my first tumblr post. I hope you like it. If you like this story, please feel free to ask me to write about another one.

TW: Yandere themes, talking about self harm , hinted kidnapping (I don't support any type of obsessive behavior and self harm in reality. If anyone of you are dealing with this, please take actions against it. Anyway take care besties!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were a dorky student in your school. You liked to paint and watch cartoons and stuff. Like most typical girls, You also had a crush on a basket ball player. He was an emo type. He wasn't the captain or anything but he was really good at playing basket ball. The coach wanted to make him the team captain but he refused since, he didn't talk much to anyone, he didn't want to become one.

One day you decided to confess your love to him before the tournament. Well, whatever you do, always confess your love to someone in PRIVATE. But since you weren't any romance guru, You didn't know that.

HAHAHA! Do you think I will date someone like you? I don't even know your name. He said.

You felt your world collapse. How could you be so stupid? Worst of all, a girl came to him and gave him a kiss right on the lips. That girl glanced at you and snarled. "Babe~" She said, "who are you talking with? " She was non other than Jessica.

"A nobody. Anyway, the match will start soon.. so, make sure to cheer for me babe, I will have surprise for you when we get home". He said to her.

Then they both laughed and left. All eyes were on you. Everyone was whispering about you and laughing. Heck, they thought it was the best failed love confessions. You felt suffocated. And you ran away.....

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years passed away as you experienced water drip from the skies, leaves falling out from the branches and snow falling in front of you like pearls. Everything changed and so did you. The rejection that you had gone through made you stronger. And after that incident, you mainly focused on your studies. You built your confidence and worth that no mean popular girls can obtain. You have changed mentally and physically in a way that you felt comfortable with. Life became sweet. You became a nurse and took care of patients. The patients loved your gentle smile and warm embrace. They thought no one could reject you. But they were not familiar with your past.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In present, you were working as usual and a new patient got admitted into the hospital. You were assigned to work for his recovery. As you were reading about his information...........

"Jake Lantin?" You muttered out. He was your crush.. It said that he got into an accident revolving around fire and got seriously burned. You didn't want to treat him but you had to. You entered the room where he resided in. His face was nothing like you remembered.... It wasn't smooth and it was covered in blood. Well, his whole body actually. Obviously, you had no interest in treating him. But you felt pity looking at his condition. So, you started to nurse him. He was in deep coma due to the impact.

But he recovered slowly and started to talk to you. He didn't know that you were the same girl that he rejected all those years back. And you never told him either. He started to get comfortable with you. He said that when he and his girlfriend (Yes, the same mean girl, Jessica . You can say that Jake loved her too much. Lol ) went to shopping mall, a fire formed due to reckless behavior with the wiring. And they both were locked inside the mall. Well, Jake would go unharmed but his girlfriend, Jessica couldn't able to get out, So, Jake saved her and thus, got badly injured. But Jessica broke up with him cuz he wasn't attractive anymore. (Poor Jake) You felt bad for him. At least he was loyal to his partner. Anyway, you took care of him. And he started to get to know you more. And thus, he started to develop feelings for you.. You started to like him as your friend. But the feelings you had for him were gone . What he did back all those years hurt you but you realized he became a good man that's why you have forgiven him. But he would get anxious if you wouldn't come early to tend him. And he wanted to harm himself so that you pay extra attention to him. He wanted only you. He loved you. He wanted to kiss you passionately. He would get jealous if you mentioned any man. He grew obsessive towards you that you will leave him just like Jessica.

Well, soon he got discharged and while you were assisting him , unaware of his planning. He decided that he will have you. You are only the one who could stay besides him You belonged to him, nobody else. You were his.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------